Oasis for the Heart

For six weeks he had been gone, not a word, not even a whisper of his whereabouts. Mary was at her wits end, not knowing what happened to him. And she wasn’t the only one. Of the followers who had stayed after his disappearance, were edgy, ever snipping, constantly rebuking each other. Mary was sure if it weren’t for their faith in his returning, they would either disburse or physically assault each other. “Wasn’t that the opposite of what Yeshua taught them?” A phrase he repeatedly quoted creeped into her mind. "Ye of little faith.” It was so true.

Not long after Mary moved from Magdala to Nazareth, she met Yeshua and from the first moment she laid eyes on him, she was enthralled by his presence. From the beginning of his mission, she stood by his side, and even now, she gladly held on to every word he said.

That evening, just before the sun had set, Yeshua returned. It was a joyful reunion, where everyone surrounded him and expressed their happiness for his return. A great feast was prepared, and all were invited. As the seats were arranged, all the disciples clamored to be the one to sit at the master’s right side.

Through all the commotion, Mary watched Yeshua, as he stood among them. He had lost weight, she thought. His skin was burnt by the sun, but besides that and a few cuts and bruises, he seems fine. Everyone scampered around Yeshua and battered him with questions about what happened. He smiled and answered their questions as best as he could. But as he stood there, talking to his disciples, Mary noticed a listless look on his face. Normally, his face lights up when he speaks to his followers, but now, it seemed distant and hollow. And there was something else. Not once since Yeshua returned, did he truly smile. The smile he was displaying tonight was a mask covering his true feelings. Something is deeply troubling him and it’s tearing at his soul. Mary knew she had no choice. She As soon as the time was right, she would have to confront him and draw out the poison that was killing him.

Shortly after the evening meal, Mary tried to confront Yeshua, but it was to no avail. Eager to hear any word Yeshua would say, none of the follower would give him a moment’s peace. “Tomorrow, then,” she said to herself. “Sooner or later, they’ll have to leave him alone.” Mary went to bed and waited for the morning sun to get a second chance. As it turned out, she didn’t have long to wait.

          Shortly after she fell asleep, Mary was shaken awake. As she struggled to open her eyes, she heard a familiar voice whisper, “Mary.”

            A heartbeat later, Mary was fully awake, and by the second beat, she whispered back, “Yeshua is that you? What are you doing up this late at night?”

            Gently, Yeshua grasped her hand and led her outside under a star filled sky. Alone together under the light of the moon, Yeshua said, “I wanted to talk to you as soon as I arrived, but as you saw, I was surrounded by my disciples, but as much as I wanted to speak with you, I didn’t have the heart to break away from them.”

As if her voice was detached from her body, Mary heard herself say, “It’s all right. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I’m sure, you couldn’t,” he said. “All that snoring you were making must have kept you awake.” Then, Yeshua laughed.

It was the first time Mary had heard him laugh since he returned, and she returned the gesture. When they were laughter was spent, she asked. “So, what was so important, you had to see me in the middle of the night?”

All signs to their previous humor evaporated. “I went to the desert to speak with my father, but instead of finding my him, robbers found me, and by the time they were finished with me, they left me for dead.”

As realization set in of where Yeshua’s cuts and bruises originated from, Mary gasped out, “What? Are you okay?”

Yeshua smiled and squeezed Mary’s hand. “I’m fine,” he exclaimed. “Let me tell you, my story. After I fell victim to the robbers, I dragged myself to the side of the road and waited for help. As I laid there in a pool of blood, a Jewish man passed by. I reached my hand out, begging for help, but he turned a blind eye to my demise. Was it the thought of him becoming unclean if he touched the blood of my wounds or was I just an inconvenience he didn’t want to bother with? I don’t know which, but what I do know is I saw my brother walking away, leaving me lying there alone.”

Yeshua sighed and shook his head. “In my weakness, I felt ashamed and alone, and I thought about giving up on everything and for once, just worry about myself and my wellbeing. I couldn't help but think, why am I doing this? Does God want me to suffer like this? So many things I can do to make my life better. Riches and comfort await me, if only I reach out and take them, and it’s so simple to do.

“It was then I was about to put my thoughts into action, but at that moment, as I laid on the ground, I looked up and there peering down on me, was God himself. Not the God in Heaven, but God in the body of a man, a Samaritan in fact. I'll never forget the look of compassion on his face and the words that he spoke. You look like shit, is what he said. He dragged me out of the ditch and placed me on his donkey. From there he took me to a nearby town and tended to my needs. With his loving spirit, he fed me, gave me shelter, and bounded my wounds. As others abandoned me in my need, he ensured others would be by my side during my time of healing. Not only did he save my life, he may have also saved my soul. At times like these, I wonder if he ever heard me preaching about God’s mercy and compassion, while I was in Samaria. I may never know.”

Yeshua sighed again. “Mary, I came so close to losing myself. What if I fail next time?”

Mary’s heart was ripped asunder. “Don’t think such thoughts,” she said. “You didn’t fail. You were nearly beaten to death, weakened by your torture, but you didn’t fail me, you, or God himself. Now, you’re stronger because of what happened. Yes, it changed you, but it changed you for the better.”

Yeshua continued as if he didn’t hear. “Next time I might be beaten worse, far worse than from a simple robbery, and tortured beyond what I can endure. Will I fail then? Will I give in to my human weaknesses and turn my face away from my father?”

Mary patted Yeshua’s hand and answered. “Only time will tell, but my heart says you can conquer anything, even torture and death.”

Finally, Yeshua relented to Mary’s pleas. “I pray, with all my heart you’re right. Thank you for listening to me. I miss those days in Nazareth when we stayed up all night talking.” Yeshua turned and left.

“Me too,” Mary whispered to an empty room. “Me too.”