Sunday, 22 July 2012

Mini novel Ziva 3 - Instrument of blessing

Ziva continued to serve with all her heart, always giving her best, her good testimony captivated her masters.

Everything she had learned about the God of Israel, burned in her heart, the words of the prophet Elisha, the miracles he would tell were within her and that made her very happy even being captive and living in the midst of a pagan people.

While Ziva was watering the garden full of colorful flowers, she saw at the distance her lady who was sitting at a bench that was under a pretty, leafy tree in the background of the courtyard. She could see that her resemblance was down, she seemed sad and distant.

-Ziva decided to approach her: "My lady, I bring you this bouquet of flowers, I just cut them, why is your resemblance so down? Did something happen? "

"Ziva, my dear, your always so kind. What happens is that Naaman seems to be worse, the leprosy spreads and I'm desperate, you know that there is no cure for him; he must wait for his death. "

- "Do not say that lady, I have certainty that if my lord Naaman was before the prophet who is in Samaria, he would cure him of his leprosy" said Ziva full of faith, remembering when the prophet said he resurrected the dead.

- "Ziva, Ziva, that's impossible, I already made so many promises to the gods of Syria, and nothing happened, there is no more hope." Said the lady with tears in her eyes.

- "No, My Lord the God of Israel is different, before being captured and brought here, on that very same day the prophet said that in the city of Shunem had a woman whose son was dead, and when the prophet prayed to God, the child came back to life, isn’t that wonderful my lady, God can do the same with my lord Naaman.

The lady was shocked and amazed with the size of the story, immediately she rose and dried her tears:

- “Ziva if you guarantee me that's true, I will believe your words, let’s go talk to Naaman, he needs to know this."

The two rushed to enter the house and talk with Naaman, but he seemed tired - "Ziva we better talk to him another day, he is so weak."

- "No, my lady, we will talk to him now, why should we deal with the suffering of my lord?

- "What happened, why are you both are at the door whispering?" Naaman said quietly.

- "Naaman, Ziva has something to tell, it may be the solution to your problem."

- "Solution, you do not know that I am condemned; there is no cure for me."

- "My lord, when I was with my family, me and my sister went every day to the well to get water, and I would take the opportunity to hear the preaching of the prophet Elisha, He spoke of the power of the God of Israel and the miracles that He did, even the dead were resurrected. Our parents always taught us the faith in the living God and there are several letters relating the events of our God in the past too.

Does my lord know that God opened the Red Sea for the people of Israel to pass on dry land and not be captured by the Egyptians?

And that God multiplied the oil and flour for a widow in Zarephath that would die of hunger? Ziva said without stopping to speak, she was out of breath.

Naaman was stunned with the faith and enthusiasm that Ziva expressed in recounting these events, the words penetrated his heart, he had never heard these facts from the gods who he always believed in, this was something supernatural.

What attitude was Naaman going to take, would he believe or will he tell Ziva that she was fantasizing?

Continues next Monday

1 comments:

Jennifer said...

This illustrates what the Word of God says "Faith comes by hearing. . ." Despite being captive and living with pagan people, Zilva held onto and remembers the words of the prophet Elisha. This keeps her going, even enough to pass on the same spirit to that lady she saw sitting a bench who was downcast.

When you are born of God, you want everyone to know that there is hope.

One of the first things I noticed about Zilva is that she is kind. She was only watering the garden, but cut and presented the flowers to that lady.

I can't wait for the next chapter. . . !

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