Bent double, crippled inside and out, that had been my life for the past eighteen years. Eighteen years of pain and doubt and fear, fear the crippled me from the inside out ....
I had always been a worrier, as a young child I carried the cares of the world on my shoulders, listening intently in the night to my parents whispers of concern over whether or not they could eke out the provisions until my father received pay for his latest work. My father was a craftsman, a carpenter, strong and steady, a perfectionist, often their whisperings were concerned with the speed of his work, a little more speed a little less perfection my mother would urge, the pay would be the same. but he would have none of it, a perfectionist to the end.
I would lie awake and worry, worry that the burden of a daughter, an extra mouth to feed was to much for them, my two brothers were already learning the trade, becoming useful, but that was not the way for me and so I worried.
I worried as I grew older, no man would look at me twice for I was no stunning beauty, neither did I have a dowry to speak of. I worried that I would continue to be a burden. Slowly but surely the fears and the worrying ate away at my insides.
My mother died first, she was not old, and so I took over keeping house for my father, cooking and cleaning, caring for him. My brothers were married now, living close by, they and their families would gather with us to celebrate the Sabbath meal, a happy time, and yet one where I would sense myself sinking further and further into the background.
Eight years I lived in this way, caring for my father, when he became ill with a fever, I nursed him day and night, it took him a week to go, and suddenly I was alone. Alone, and afraid!
I had the house, small though it was, by rights it should have gone to my older brother Seth , but he had more than he needed, a quick and efficient business man, he was not a perfectionist in the way my father was, and his business was flourishing, he did not begrudge me the house, not the small inheritance my father had, going against convention left to me. I suspect it would have been my dowry!
I was careful with the money, and took in mending to make ends meet, and yet each night found me worrying, tossing in sleeplessness....
...and then one morning eighteen years ago, I remember it clearly, I went to get out of bed and could not stand, I was bent double, the weight of my fears and worries had become tangible and they pushed me over, bending me double. I was terrified!
I prayed, and heard nothing, friends came offering advice, nothing....
My brothers were kind, they made sure I had enough to eat day by day, they made sure I was clothed, but they could not lift the weight from me, they could not help me to stand straight.
From that first day until now I spent my days in reflection, going over my life in minute detail, looking for causes to my condition. My perspective shifted further inward, I could no longer lift my head to look at the sky, instead I looked at the ground, the dust, and peoples feet instead of their faces.
I still prayed, and heard nothing, I still attended the Synagogue faithfully, clinging onto faith with my finger tips, always hoping, and yet always disappointed.
Disappointed until today....
For today I met Jesus, he had come to our Synagogue, I'd heard he was in town, I had heard of the miracles that followed him everywhere ( who hadn't), but I was not prepared for what would happen next...
He picked me out of the crowd, back in the womens section and called me forward. I did not want to go, but the other women pushed me out of my place, and I went hesitantly. He moved towards me, knelt down and looked me in the face, I will never forget his eyes. Filled with something more than compassion, they were on fire with a righteous anger, but it was not directed at me.
He stood, and laying his hands upon me he spoke: " Woman you are free".
A jolt of pure energy shot down my spine, and the terrible oppressive weight broke in two, and I stood. I STOOD! Something inside had also changed, for the whisperings of despair had been replaced by shouts of praise, and I found myself lifting my arms and singing with joy!
The Pharisees did not like it of course, they has often commended me for my patient endurance, for my quiet uncomplaining ways, for my faithfulness despite the burden I had been afflicted with, they encouraged me to see it as just payment for sin, my sin.
I had listened to them of course, believing them right, until now. For now I was standing tall, I could see that the burden of guilt I had borne was a false one. Insidious lies had crept into my heart and soul crippling me, but now I was free, free of the burden and the weight of guilt, free to stand tall, free to praise God.
The Pharisees had surrounded him castigating him for his behaviour, healing on the Sabbath indeed! He looked over to me and smiled- he was not worried by their condemnations- and suddenly neither was I, not any more, not ever again.
Picture- The Dancing life by Njuguna
