Walking on Water

I Am Willing

News of the miracles Jesus had wrought at Simon and Andrew’s home that night spread throughout Galilee, almost as if runners had been dispatched with the message to every town and village, even to where there was no town. Early the next morning, crowds gathered, seeking Jesus, but He was not there. Earlier still, He had gone to a remote place to pray, to be alone with His Father, and to seek His will and strength.

In time, Simon finally found Him. “Lord, everyone is looking for you,” he exclaimed.

“Let us go somewhere else,” Jesus answered, “to the nearby villages so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.”

After a short time to take up what was needed for travel, they were on their way. A large crowd went along—some, wanting to see another miracle; others, to hear more of His teaching. Many were still unsure if they were ready to follow Him.

He did teach them, with words like no one else. The people marveled at His wisdom and His message. Simon marveled too.

Leaving one of the towns, the crowds moved with Jesus, and among them was a respected teacher of the law. Over the din of many voices came a cry of suffering. Jesus heard it first, not because His hearing was more acute but because His heart was.

Stumbling, almost tumbling, down a nearby hill came a leper, calling out to Jesus. Hobbled by the loss of his toes, he no longer was able to feel the ground on the stubs of his feet. Even the walking stick was not enough to steady him, and he fell to the ground while still a way off. As he tried to get back to his feet, the people took up stones to keep him away. To everyone’s surprise, the teacher of the law, Mateo, with both hands up to prevent harm, stepped in front to dissuade them.

“No, please, no. He will not come any closer. Have mercy,” Mateo pleaded.

It had been over a year since Mateo had seen him, three years since the man calling out had been found to be a leper. Though Mateo did not recognize the form, he still recognized the voice of his cousin, Jabez. Shabby clothes covered nearly every inch of his tortured body—or what remained of it. It would not be long; his remaining time was short.

“Lord, please, he is my cousin. I know him,” Mateo entreated. “He won’t come any closer.”

Jesus looked with approval at the Mateo, who, unlike many of his peers, was not jealous but truly wondering who Jesus was. As Jesus regarded both men, no one threw anything, but no one dropped the stones either.

“Then I will go to him,” Jesus concluded, stepping forward.

Simon caught His arm. “Lord, no.”

Jesus paused only for a second to look him in the eye. “Peter, what if it was you?”

Simon’s grip fell limp, and Jesus pulled away. The people fell back as Jesus went forward toward the leper. Murmuring rose in the throng as they watched, but they were merely bystanders now. This was about Jesus and a man in need, with only his faith in the Messiah.

“What would you ask of me?” Jesus questioned.

Jabez the leper struggled to his knees, trying to bow his face to the ground. He did not even lift his eyes to see Jesus. No one else would dare come so close, just a few feet away; it was too near already. This had to be the one. As a leper Jabez did not want his face seen, did not want his only hope to turn away in revulsion, like so many people before had done.

The man was spent, and Jesus waited as he caught his breath. Knowing he was considered as good as dead by everyone who had known him, the leper had no pride remaining and hadn’t even considered how to word his plea or what he wanted. There was so little of him left. What did it really matter now? He only wanted to be free of suffering and pain. But rather than listen to doubts of what his mind could not conceive, his faith won out, and he spoke what his soul believed about the Son of God. Pulling down the wrap that covered from view the ravages the disease had brought on his mouth and lips, he affirmed, as clearly as he was able, “Lord, if you are willing—You—You can make me clean.”

Jesus was touched by his faith, and what He had intended to do anyway now became a great joy for Him. Stepping nearer still, as the crowd gasped, He reached out to touch him, reaching into the hood that had been used to shroud the painful horror that Jabez was living with—dying with. That fearless gesture allowed his poor, wretched soul to feel acceptance greater than anything he’d know, even in what seemed like another life, his life before this. Months ago, he’d lost almost all the feeling in his face but not in his heart. Everyone knew, including him, the law forbade touching a man with leprosy, but when Jesus reached out to him, there no longer was a leper. As with every malady of man, the disease fled before His touch. “I am willing,” He declared. “Be clean.”

New nerves leaped to life, anxious to meet the Savior’s hand, and Jabez felt another human touch for the first time in oh, so very long, and at the same time, the touch of God. His face was healed, the open sores that covered him were gone—completely gone—and he felt a strange tingling in his hands and feet. Reaching out his hand, he found fingers, whole, and new, and clean! Feet—he had feet again. He could feel the sand with toes, all ten of them.

Jabez wept as Jesus flipped the hood off his head, and he looked up at his Savior, feeling his own tears edging down his cheeks. Jesus unwound the wrap from his face, and the crowd could scarcely believe what their eyes told them.

Jesus’s hand moved from the side of his face to his shoulder. “See that you don’t tell anyone,” He instructed him, a glint in His eye. There were plenty of others, including his cousin, who would attend to that. “But go, show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift Moses commanded as a testimony to them.”