Under A Million Stars by Mindy Haig
There he stood, motionless for a moment, his head tilted just a bit as he watched me. I shrank back into myself, but I could not look away. He was average height. He stood amid his company; he should have just been one of the crowd, but he wasn’t. He stood somehow above them, as though he walked upon a cloud. The bright rays of Heaven shown upon him alone. He radiated otherworldly glory. His hair was dark, his clothes were simple, and his beard was neatly trimmed. He was beautiful in his ordinariness in a way that set him apart from all men in all of time.
The others urged him back toward the road as he left the group and made his way toward me. “We don’t have time...,” the one at his side started, but he turned sharply and held up his finger in warning. “We always have time to heal a person in need. Always. That is our mission, that is the reason we walk this path.”
The others whispered amongst themselves, but he let their words pass him by as he came and stood before me. It was then that he spoke those first words and my heart was changed forever.
He reached out his hand to me but I felt ashamed to touch him. He was the Son of the Almighty Father and I was a sinner. I had never been whole. My father’s wealth and the traces of beauty I was born with hid the evils that plagued me. No amount of money could cure me and my appearance made me prey to men who would take advantage of my wish to be healed. So shame kept me from taking his offered hand even though my heart was already singing out his name.
He seemed to know every thought in my mind. Soft words, meant for my ears only, came from his mouth as he crouched before this wretched mess of a woman. His voice was the music to which the angels sang, and my heart felt joy even as my eyes showed their pain.
“I can help you if you will let me. If you could place your faith in a man just one more time, by the grace of my father, I would heal you,” he told me. “I will not let another hurt you and I will not mislead you with lies. My name is...”
“I know your name, My Lord. I am not worthy of your help.”
“There is no soul that is not worthy of redemption. I can see your heart. I can see that you have trusted others and that you’ve been betrayed by your desire to be made whole and hearty. I tell you that is no sin of yours, but a black scar upon the eternal life of those whose cruelty has led you here. Take my hand, Meiri, and together we will leave this place of sadness.”
“You mistake me,” I whispered. “My name is...”
“No, it is no mistake. The name means giver of light, and I give this name to you,” he smiled. “I see the light in you. I see the golden glow of Heaven that illuminates the soul within you. I think you wish to leave this person you are at this moment behind. So I will call you Meiri and you will be what guides me through the darkest hours.”
“I will cause you trouble. I cannot contain that which possesses me,” I told him quietly as I slipped my fingers into his hand.
“I have no fear. Walk beside me and I will bear your burden with you until I can free you from it.”
The moment he clasped my hand in his own, I knew peace.
More than that, though, I knew love. Boundless love. Love that was eternal, that was stronger than pride or self. Love that could overcome demons and death. That is what he was; the embodiment of love.
That is what our story was all about.
I stood just gazing into eyes that appeared to be so regular, so ordinary in shape, in size, and in color, but just beyond the color was paradise. I don’t know how others could stand so close to him and not realize that he was the gate to the almighty. But I knew from a single touch of his hand that my life belonged to Yeshua.
Shtayim:
Together we walked along, surrounded by his men, but at the same time alone in the world.
Just the two of us. I did not know if he felt what I felt, I could not ask him. Falling in love was a woman’s weakness; surely he did not have such frivolous thoughts. But each time his eyes met mine, my strength grew, my mind cleared, and the world seemed to change, to open, before me.
The others whispered and passed their judgments upon me. My dirty clothing was finely made, and they wondered whether I’d come from riches or stolen them from the home of a master. My long hair hung loose, and again they debated whether it was my social status or simple misfortune, though the tone of the conversation made it clear they assumed that I was no more than a prostitute or a concubine driven out of my home by madness or treachery.
Yeshua shook his head just a fraction and sighed, but said nothing as we continued on the road. He lifted his eyes to the sky in silent prayer, and then he smiled at me. He walked with his hand in enclosing mine and peace written on his face, so while their words were an assault, I let them float away into the place where words can no longer hurt and not rile the vicious tormentors in my blood or the sharp words that sat upon my own tongue. Instead I soaked in the tranquility that he projected and bore silence and contentment like a sword and shield.
~ ~
The day waned as we traveled. The company did not stop for food or drink along the route. They simply walked. Yeshua stopped for a moment as the sun sank toward the horizon, gently pulling me away from the others and closer to his person. “If you listen closely, Meiri, when the sun meets the land you can hear all the Angels sing praise to The Father for his gift of this day.”
“Is that true? Can you truly hear that?”
“Yes, I can.”
“I have never heard such a song. Perhaps I am not worthy to hear.”
“Of course you are worthy, but you have to believe with all your heart that they are singing to you.”
He slid his arm around my shoulder and he closed his eyes. I cannot describe in words the way he looked when the sun touched the land. Clearly he heard the angels. I wished with all my heart that I might hear them, but there was no sound beyond his breath and my heart.
“You will hear them, I promise you.”
“I believe you,” I whispered, though just hours earlier I would not have believed in angels at all.
~ ~
We took our rest in the home of strangers that night. They were acquaintances of acquaintances of the family of one of the twelve men called Disciples, who traveled at his side.
Our hosts greeted us warmly and yet warily but Yeshua had a tongue of silver, and his words wove a spell of peace and hope among them. I stood away from him as he made the greetings. I did not want to sully his image with my filthy presence. I knew from my father’s house how important a man’s first impression was to the success of his endeavor. But he was grace and charm and his message was well received. Even my heart was moved.
Our hosts offered a meal. The men said nothing, not even the one whose family had arranged this respite. They stood humbly awaiting Yeshua’s decision to accept or decline. I could feel the hunger and the need of each of them and it was at that moment that it truly occurred to me that this mission of theirs was one that had to be held close to the heart and firmly believed because there was no luxury. There was not even the promise of basic hospitality. There was only faith in The Father and in Yeshua’s ability to speak his message to the masses.
Yeshua thanked our hosts kindly, but begged a favor for me before anyone would be fed.
He asked the ladies of the house to bathe me, and to clothe me.
They graciously agreed, calling it a simple task, but to me it meant the world. They could not understand what it would mean to me for Yeshua to see me clean. He was kind to the most unfortunate of women, but I needed very badly not to look disgraced. Perhaps that was just vanity. He said he could see the light inside me, but I needed desperately to radiate that light. And the first step was washing away the filth of the life he took me from.
The ladies did not question my place among the company. They merely focused on the task at hand. My body was bathed in rose scented water, it was most likely a treasure that was being saved for a special occasion, but used upon a strang
Yeshua’s eyes met mine the moment I entered the room. Those two beautiful windows into all the mysteries of the world opened to me for just the smallest fraction of time as a hint of a smile turned his lips. And just that quickly it was gone. He returned to the conversation already in progress as we were shown to the table and I was seated with the women.
I did not get another moment of his time.
~ ~
Later that night, I was given a place to rest, alone, away from the men. The room was finely appointed considering the modesty of the other parts of the home. It could have easily been the room I had grown up in at my father’s home with the soft bed and the fine furniture. But this room most likely belonged to an elder. From the mementos I could see, I assumed it was the mother of the man of the house. I was so tired. I could not recall the last time I rested my head upon a soft pillow. My previous days and nights were nothing but an incomprehensible tangle in my thoughts. The time and memory were distorted, warped with the anger and that madness which lived within me. Weariness was my only certainty. The long hours upon the roads we traveled passed so quickly, so innocently, as I walked beside Yeshua, that I did not notice the evils that possessed me until they returned to collect their payment as I lay in solitude. And even as exhaustion ravaged me, in this room of splendid comforts, I could not rest.
My head ached.
My hands began to shake.
The urge to run was strong because I could feel those things that I wished to be quit of, awakening and I feared the shame of causing grief to Yeshua.
I walked quietly down the hall searching for him. I needed to look upon him. I needed the peace of his presence.
Some of the men slept in the main room, while others were in a room near the back of the home. Yeshua lay upon a pallet inside and I sat down on the floor outside the entry to the room, just looking at him for a long time. Seeing him calmed me, strengthened me. A great peace settled in my heart, and I finally surrendered to its promised relief as my eyes drifted closed. I felt myself begin to slide sideways toward the floor.
Gentle hands caught my head, swept my hair away and laid me down.
He was still asleep beside me when I awoke.
Shalosh:
Nearly a full day passed before we shared more than brief passing words. So many men came to speak with him. Some were greatly touched by his message while others disputed him vehemently. I did all I could to remain occupied, to keep myself from dwelling on the pain in my head and the voices inside that mocked me. I tried to wear a smile, but I knew it did not show in my eyes.
And each time he glanced at me, he looked as pained as I felt.
~ ~
We found a private moment just before the midday meal was served.
“Meiri, forgive me. I gave you my word and our day here has been more complicated than I thought it would be. I have not had a moment to attend you.”
“Your work must come first.”
“No. My word must come first. If the ones I love can’t believe in my word then I have already failed at this task.”
“I believe in your words. I don’t want you to be a failure. I don’t want to cause you to be a failure.”
“You are in pain. I asked for your faith and made you a promise to relieve that pain.”
“You did make such a promise, but you did not set a time. You said you would help carry my burden until you could free me of it. I think you have kept your word, because I feel peace in your presence.”
His mouth dropped open in surprise as a reply failed to find it’s way to his lips. But a moment later a smile curved those lips. He tilted his head and leaned close to me. “Tonight, Meiri, when the others have set to rest we will sit beneath the moon and speak private words,” he whispered as he kissed me softly upon the cheek.
My hand immediately went to the spot, covering it, wishing to hold his kiss there forever. And I was perplexed. I did not understand how my defective heart could be bursting with love for this man whom I had only known for one day. I had been betrothed to a man once and did not feel anything for him. I had put my faith in men who claimed they could help me and though I occasionally felt glimmers of hope and small fragments of happiness, never had my cold, uncaring heart known any of the feelings I felt for Yeshua.
I could not wait for the night.
I could not wait to see the moon rise into the heavens so that I might sit in his presence and feel whole.
But the day dragged on endlessly. I set about helping the ladies of the house bake the bread and cook a meal that would feed so many for so much longer than they might imagine. At last the sun dropped low enough into the sky that it shown through the narrow windows. I watched its descent until it approached the horizon. I excused myself and walked out into the garden. I stood alone, with my eyes closed, and prayed to The Father to find me worthy of hearing the song of the angels.
At last that moment came.
I turned my face to the sky. I stopped breathing so there would be not a single noise to prevent my hearing. But the angels did not sing to me. I was not worthy of their song. My shoulders slumped as I dropped my chin. He put his hand upon my golden hair and sang words in a language that was unknown to my ear yet resonated inside me. His voice was as clear and fresh as water from a spring. And though his song was brief, the moment lasted forever. Captured and saved inside me to be returned to in times of need.
“You will hear them, Meiri, I swear it. One day they will sing your name.”
Then he turned and walked back into the house.
~ ~
It was late when the men finally settled in for the night. The moon was already past its apex and was slowly moving toward the place where it would lie down and rest through another day.
I sat alone in the back garden looking out over the fields and into the heavens beyond, pondering my purpose with this group and trying not to be disappointed that Yeshua had not come to join me.
The weather was mild but I still felt chilled. I wondered what would become of me when we left this home. I wondered if he kept his word and healed me, if he would then leave me behind. I knew in my heart that I didn’t want to be healed if that meant being parted from him. But what use could I be upon his mission?
Just as my thoughts grew too heavy to continue thinking, he sat beside me.
“I have no intention of leaving you behind, Meiri.”
“Do you know my every thought, Yeshua?”
“No. But I can feel that which worries you.”
“Why did you stop for me?” I asked.
He turned his face to mine and looked at me with that tilt of his head that would be the look that would always make my heart pound in my breast. “You were promised to me,” he answered quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“The men that walk with my purpose at heart were all chosen by The Father. He set me upon the path to finding them all, except my cousin Yochanan who has been with me all of my days. Each time, he sent me a dream, a prophesy with some small detail of what I was looking for. I set upon my path gathering the flock he raised to do his will. I love them all, Meiri, but not equally. They all have greatness within them of some sort, be it courage or passion, but they all have flaws as well. There are times I do not like the words they speak and there are words inside me that I cannot speak to them because I must always be calm, focused on what I must do. I cannot let them know that sometimes I am only a man with the same weaknesses all men possess,” he sighed.
“You are so much more than a man, Yeshua. You are a gift,
“No, Meiri, I am a vessel. The Father fills me with those things he wants me to share. He fills me with the things I need to spread his word and his love, but there are times when my vessel is empty and I have feelings I cannot share with the others. I prayed to him. I asked for help because I needed something that I could not find.”
“What did you need?”
“I needed someone to love me,” he continued quietly. “There is my mother, whose love has always been true. But even she cannot be my confidant because the love between mother and child is not the same love as that between soul mates. Yesterday my prayer was answered. The father sent me a dream weeks ago. He said I would find Nechama Li, my comfort, in a ray of golden sunshine that others would ignore. He said I would feel you. And I did. I watched the people shun you. I watched them pretend you did not sit in agony. My heart wept. The light of Heaven sat right there among them and they refused to see. Even those hand chosen by The Father refused to see and I am gravely sorry for the words they spoke as we walked. But I think on all that has happened at this very moment, Meiri and perhaps only I am meant to see what is really here because he made you for me. And that thought brings me great joy and overwhelming grief.”
“Why does it bring you grief?”
“Because, My Light, your path to me was so difficult. You carried burdens I would not wish on even the most vile man. He led you through the lowest form of existence to bring you to me and I am regretful that you had to suffer to be the thing I needed to continue.”
I began to cry. He tried to apologize to me, but my tears turned to laughter. I threw my arms around him and held him tight to me.
“Why do you laugh?” he asked solemnly.
“Don’t you see, Dodi, you have just given meaning to all of my life! I would bear my torment again and again if that is what it takes to reach this moment.”