Galilee

Though it would be better told by King David in his fluent odes which soothed King Saul so many years ago, this story comes from a country girl accompanied only by the whistling of the wind and the crash of the waves upon the shore of the Sea of Galilee. My tale is one in which it would be an unjustice to keep to myself, so I tell it to you just as it happened, not so long ago.
When I was too young to remember, my parents died in a storm at sea and I was left in the charge of my uncle, who graciously took me in and treated me as one of his own daughters. Every summer I have traveled from my uncle's home in Jerusalem, to the town where I was born, just outside of the small village of Tabgha in Galilee. My maid and I would travel together accompanied only by two armed men and a donkey boy. We would arrive at the door of a small thatched hut, surrounded by an abundance of yellow and white wild flowers which had the audacity to spread out to the very shore of the sea and dip their graceful heads, as if in an effort to gaze upon their reflections in the ever-changing water. A slight movement could be detected at the door of the hut, and soon an aged man, bronzed and weather-beaten from long years spent working beneath the unmerciful sun, would appear with his smiling wife leaning upon his arm. I would alight from my horse and run to meet them. No fancy or fluent language was ever exchanged, only the words of sincere joy and affection. I was once again at the only place I truly called home.
It was from my grandfather that I learned to love and cherish the teachings and prophecies of the Prophets of old. We would spend long hours amidst the beauty of the countryside discussing the mysterious fulfillments of the prophecies of Jeremiah, Isaiah, Daniel, and Hosea. So like all loyal Jews, I knew many of the prophecies by heart and heard them repeated lovingly by my grandfather many times. Yet as the years rolled by, my childlike faith - believing anything and everything my Grandfather advocated as true - wavered, and I held a secret skepticism which grew with each passing year, that the prophecies were perhaps just beautiful stories, never meant to be fulfilled. At times I felt guilty about this belief, but at my uncle's house I was encouraged by their way of life to disregard the dusty prophecies and only think of the here and now. Then, two years ago while pondering upon this phenomena, an event occurred which was destined to change my life forever.
   Yet for the cool breeze which glided across the sea, Galilee would have been unbearably hot. Having arrived at Tabgha no more than two months before, I was set into the routine of simple country life and had been busy helping Grandmother in the late garden. Grandfather had recently set out on a trading trip to Bethsaida, saying he would return in a fortnight and as it was now about time, I trained my eyes upon the distant horizon. At my first sight of him, I was astonished at what was almost youthful vigor. He alighted from his gelding and with a broad smile he oppened his arms and hugged me tight. "Lydia!" he spoke radiantly, "I have something to tell you." His whole being was filled with a strength and confidence that I had never beheld. My curiosity was satisfied by the telling of a strange story as I learned of unusual happenings in Nazareth, Gergesa, Capernium, and villages surrounding.
"It is rumored," he started, "that a Nazarene performing miraculous deeds and teaching the people to love and serve one another is calling himself the Son of God." He watched closely for my reaction and by the look on my face, Grandfather obviously saw that I doubted the validity of this man. He continued, "Lydia - I believed him to be the long sought for Messiah - the Chosen One."
   I started at this, and stared surprisingly at my grandfather, questioning whether there was any proof for this statement. "If there is truly to be a Messiah, and this is he, would not the scriptures have to be fulfilled - as the prophets foretold so long ago?"
   "As I have told you many times before, the Messiah has been prophesied by Micah and Isaiah to be born in Bethleham. This is true with the Nazarene!" Grandfather went on to tell me of the other prophesies that had been fullfilled.
   Later that night I walked alone along the moonlit shore, thinking over our discussion. I had learned that many of the prophesies concerning the birth and life of the Messiah had come to pass in the life of this Nazarene - a man called Jesus. Why, even his name was as foretold! I wrinkled my brow and turned to look out upon the sea - if these stories were true I would have to rethink my beliefs. What would my uncle's family say if they knew I was losing sleep over a matter which was obviously ridiculous - or was it? I was puzzled and decided to put it out of my mind. Yet over the next few days I could think of nothing else, especially with Grandfather fervently talking of this strange man, for although he had not seen him, he was so sure of himself that I felt guilty for not following his lead. He was all for dropping everything and heading to hear the Nazarene's teaching, but Grandmother put her foot down by pointing out that the crops must be brought in before anyone would be going anywhere.
   No matter how hard I tried to shake it, a sense of urgency filled me. This teaching of the Nazarene seemed to have been going on for some time, although the multitudes of people were just now beginning to recognize him as someone important. Because of our distance from towns and people, we had heard none of the reports of the strange and miraculous deeds he is said to have performed until months after they were accomplished. Could it be true that he healed the ill and raised the dead? Something in me would not allow myself to believe such reports, but I had to make an honest decision. Was he truly who he said he was - the Son of God? Was that the truth?
The scent of blossoms filled the air as I gathered up my skirts and ran lightly across the flower strewn hill down to the shore. This was the last day of my stay in Galilee and I decided to make the best of it - no more brooding, I reminded myself. Pushing the small fishing dory into the calm water, I sprang in and began to paddle towards the middle of the lake. Wanting to be alone today, away from Grandfather's continual affirmation of the Nazarene's story, I had set upon the open expanse of water as the only place where I could be alone, just me and my thoughts. Dangling my fingers in the cool water, my gaze drifted across the calm lake to the still trees and quiet fields. Such peace! If only peace of mind was as easy to find as the peace in natural wonders. Amidst the stillness of my surroundings, a slight movement caught my attention and I beheld far off in the distance a small fishing vessel heading my way. I sighed. "Just when I thought I was alone." Lazily watching the boat creep towards me, I began to notice that the sea was no longer calm, choppy white water having appeared upon the surface. Resolving to head home, I began to paddle with mounting desperation as a harsh wind picked up and the waves began to lap over the sides of my boat. With unbelievable fury, rain pelted down as lightening and thunder added to the tumult. Never before had I beheld such a sudden or fierce storm. Realizing the desperation of my situation...
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