He was a decorated officer of the armed forces. Both his battle and leadership skills had been tested. He had only one problem. It had been months since he first noticed it, but he shrugged it off, assuring himself it would go away. After a while it started to lose feeling in his forearm; a death sentence for a warrior like himself. Forced into early retirement, he spent his days in his palatial spread, searching for answers. “I’ve got to get back on the battlefield. I can’t stand being cooped up in this house. I would pay handsomely for a cure for this debilitating disease.”
He certainly could afford it. The spoils of war had made him far and above well-to-do. Then he got a reprieve. A little maiden in his own house, who waited on his mistress, gave him the news. “There’s a prophet in Samaria who can heal you.” So off he goes, with a recommendation letter, loaded down with gifts for the man of God. As important as the soldier thought he was, he didn’t even get an audience with the prophet. He got an email (I mean a message). “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times and you’ll be healed.”
“What? I ain’t doing that. That’s nasty water. There are plenty other rivers much cleaner that I could wash in. He must be a jack-leg preacher. Let’s go!!”
It’s good to have people around you that love you. The warrior’s servant spoke up. “Master, if he had asked you to do some big thing, you would have done it. What have you got to lose (besides your arm, he thought).” Even if it doesn’t work, you’ll be no worse off than you are now.”
Naaman reluctantly went down into the Jordan and followed the prophet’s instructions. He was healed just like the prophet said. He had been disregarding the small, looking for a miracle. How often have we ignored the smallest of instructions from God which may have lead to the miracle we were seeking in another area? “Don’t sweat the small stuff!” − a familiar cliché that may be costing us the victory we could have had.
© Fredrick F. Nicholson 2010 all rights reserved