Walking Like Jairus

She called from across the street, her arms waving me over. "Come on and help yourself to fruit! The gate is open, it's always open anytime!" "I'll be right there!" I shouted back. Yes, I thought to myself, I can load up on wonderful ripe lemons, oranges, grapefruit, kumquats, and the sweetest tangerines you could ever have. Oh, we have the best neighbors!

I grabbed two canvas bags and hurried across the street. I gushed my thanks to Dolly, but also wanted to catch up with her. I told her I had wondered how she and her husband were doing since I hadn't seen them outside as much. Actually, all was going pretty well for them, but they had had a scare a few months earlier. Their son had fallen, had suffered significant injuries, but had survived and now was doing well. However, more importantly, Dolly, a devout Catholic who always attends her weekly mass, was thankful that her son was grateful for her consistent prayers and had even called a priest to take confession. Her eyes glistened with tears as she shared her joy with me. After all these years of praying for her son, it now had seemed he made a decision to heal his heart as well.

Mmm . . . persistent, persevering prayer . . . mixed with years of patient pause. . . It reminded me of one named Jairus. His daughter was deathly ill, expected to die any minute. Yet, somehow he had heard of Jesus, perhaps because he himself was a high official in the Jewish religious system. Something within him brought him to that crowd that eagerly waited for Jesus to arrive. As soon as Jairus saw him, he began to desperately entreat Jesus to come to his home. He explained that his only daughter lay dying. Jesus began walking with him, but was interrupted by a sickly, unclean woman who had touched him. She instantly was healed from her ailment, but Jesus seemed now more concerned with her than the immediate need of Jairus. I'm sure those minutes spent must have seemed like hours to Jairus and though there is no recorded response of what he said or thought, he must have wondered if Jesus had forgot about his pressing need. Why is he taking all this time with a woman? What about me? While Jesus is still conversing with the woman, Jairus is told "not to trouble the Teacher anymore because your daughter has now died."

I wonder if he felt anger, sorrow or just felt perplexed. He had tried his best to get the sole attention of the One who could intervene and save his only child, but someone else got healed instead . . . a woman, no less. There is no recorded response of what he truly thought, but Jesus answered his anguish with words of encouraging hope, "Do not be afraid any longer, only believe, and she shall be made well." And they walked on. . .

Mmm . . . persistent, persevering prayer . . . mixed with times of patient pause. Throughout the rest of the story, we have no account of Jairus' thoughts, words, or reactions. All we know is that he kept on walking, even through the mournful crowd gathered around his home. They just mocked Jesus, after all, how could a dead child be brought back alive? Yet, Jesus came and gently raised her up like a little lamb that had only fallen asleep. That had to be the sweetest outcome for Jairus who silently pushed on. . .

My bags are now completely full with fragrant citrus fruit. Every year the trees go through the cycle of the bud, the bloom, the fruit. The fruit is the outcome of a tree that's thrived through rain, winds and summer heat. All the tree can do is wait and in it's time bear fruit. Even nature teaches me the lesson of pressing on in spite of circumstantial surroundings. Persistent perseverance mixed with times of pause or waiting yields the joy of faith. Faith in One who is not too slow nor never late to answer our desperate cries, and produce in us the fruit of peace.

"And the seed in the good ground, these are the ones who have heard the word in a honest and good heart, and hold it fast, and bear fruit with perseverance."
(Luke 8:15)