One of my favorite stories in my novel Through the Eyes of a Shepherd is about a fictional little boy who was encountered by two of the seventy-two disciples Jesus sent out into the villages throughout Galilee. i thought it would be fun to connect him with another little boy we actually see (though he is unnamed) in the Gospels. It became a very touching account that reinforces foundational biblical truth.

i originally told the story through the eyes of the shepherd Shimon. But in the book i am releasing next year, i retell the story through the eyes of the little boy himself. i’m posting the new story here this week because i think it is a truth that we all need to be reminded of again and again – particularly as we walk through these challenging days. As in all of my stories, some of the events and some of the people are fictional – but the truth they tell is trustworthy! This is longer than a blog post; it is a short story. But i pray you will find it worth the read.

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My name is Jonathan and I am ten years old. My parents and I live in the village of Chorazin in northern Galilee. It is a smaller village than most, with about one hundred families calling it home. I have lived here all of my life. Most of the buildings in our village were built using a black volcanic rock that is found nearby. It gives Chorazin a very different appearance. Everything is a beautiful color of ebony!

The village is surrounded by groves of olive trees. My dad once told me that some of the trees date back to the days when our patriarch Abraham was a boy my age. Those trees produce the finest tasting olives you have ever eaten! Many of the families in our village make their living from those olives. The olives of Chorazin and the olive oil they produce are traded far and wide throughout the region.

Our family is one of the few families who doesn’t earn its living from the olives. My dad is a shepherd. He raises sheep and goats. Just recently, he began to let me help him shepherd the flock. But that wasn’t always the case!

You see, I am actually my parents’ third child. Both of my older brothers were still born. My parents named my oldest brother Samuel, and our middle brother David. Though they never lived outside of my mother’s womb, we remember them always. Each year we recognize their birthdays and I think about what they would be doing at this age. I would have liked to have known my older brothers. I would have liked to have been able to play with them, confide in them and learn from them. My parents and I talk about the day when we will all be together in heaven. I so look forward to that day!

My mother tells me that she and my father named me Jonathan because it means “God has given” and they knew I was His gift to them. They tell me that I brought joy back into their home and their hearts.

I was just a few months old when they discovered that I had been born deaf. Some of our well-meaning neighbors asked them if there was unconfessed sin in their lives for which God was punishing them. I don’t think they meant to hurt my parents with their words, but I know that they did. 

Despite their sadness over my deafness, I will tell you that as best as I can remember my early years, I don’t remember my parents ever looking at me without a smile on their faces and joy in their eyes. I have never known a day without love – and I am so grateful to Jehovah God for His goodness to me!

While I was still very young, my mother began to teach me signs I could make with my hands that my parents and I would know represented words. The first words she taught me were “I love you!” As time passed, my vocabulary of signs became pretty extensive. Sometimes it was fun to know that no one else knew what my parents and I were saying to each other … but other times it was hard. The other boys in our village never wanted to play with me. Often when we were with other people, I would see them talking and so wish I knew what they were saying. I did learn some words by reading lips, but I wasn’t very good at it. And since I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t speak, so it made it difficult when I was around other people.

I spent all of my time growing up in the company of my parents. One or both of them was always with me. On a few occasions, my dad took me with him as he watched over the sheep, but he was always afraid that something might happen to me while his attention was directed elsewhere. Since I couldn’t call out to him, and he couldn’t call out to me, he thought it would be safer if I stayed home with my mom.

One day, not too long ago, two strangers came to our village. They told everyone that they were followers of a Man named Jesus. My parents told me that one of the men stood up in our synagogue and talked about this Jesus. Many of our people had heard of Him. It was said that He had made the deaf to hear, the blind to see and the lame to walk. It was even said that He had restored life to the dead. My mom had told me that the prophet Isaiah had long ago written about a Man who would come and do these things. The man who spoke in the synagogue said that Jesus was that Man!

My parents talked all that day and night about whether Jesus could enable me to hear. My dad wasn’t sure. He didn’t want me, or them, to be disappointed again. But my mom decided they needed to find out! So, the next morning, after my dad had taken the sheep and goats into the hills to pasture, she brought me to our neighbor’s home.

The two followers of Jesus, whom I later learned were named Shimon and Simon, were staying in our neighbor’s home. My mother asked them if Jesus could heal me so that I could hear. She explained that I had never heard a bird sing, or the sound of the wind when it blows, or even the sound of her voice. She asked, “What do I need to do so that my son can hear?”

One of the men – Shimon – began to talk to her. I had no idea what he was saying, but I later learned that he was explaining that Jesus had sent the two of them to our village. He apparently had sent other men out in pairs to other villages as well. He had told them to preach the Good News and heal in His name. Shimon told my mother he would pray and ask God to bring hearing to my ears.

I saw a tear drop begin to trickle down my mother’s cheek as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder and directed me to walk toward the man. I had no idea what he was going to do, but I trusted my mother – so I would trust this man. He placed his hands over my ears. I looked up and could see that he was speaking. At first it was still just silence to me, but then something happened! All of a sudden there was something different taking place. I couldn’t have described it at the time, but I was actually hearing sounds – and those sounds I now know were words. I didn’t know what any of them meant at the time, but the man was saying, “… Father, we ask You to unblock his ears and enable him to hear so that he and his parents, and others in this village might believe on Your Son, Jesus Christ of Nazareth.” 

As he took his hands away, I immediately raised my hands to my ears. I was experiencing a new sensation! For the first time in my life I could hear! I didn’t fully realize it yet, but God had given me hearing… for His glory and the glory of His Son! I looked at my mother with excitement. I didn’t know any words to speak, so I told her with signs, “I can hear!” Then she spoke to me. She spoke my name, “Jonathan!” I had never heard anyone speak my name. I had never heard my mother’s voice … until that moment!

Suddenly tears flowed down my mother’s cheeks. She and I embraced each other for a long time! Meanwhile, the two men and our neighbors were shouting and giving glory to God! And quickly the news spread throughout the village! My mother and I left to find my father. As we ran toward him on the hill, my mother shouted to him, “He can hear! Jonathan can hear! God has given him hearing!” My dad looked at me at first with disbelief, but when he saw the smile on my face, he wrapped his arms around me, drew me close and shouted heavenward, “Thank You, God!”

Later that day I went to find the man who had prayed for me. I wanted to know more about the Jesus who had enabled me to hear. Even though I could now hear sounds, I didn’t understand what most of them were. That would take some time for me to learn – but my parents and others would teach me.

The two men remained in the village for two more days. I began to understand that the man who had prayed for me was named Shimon. I learned to say his name – after I first learned to say “Mama” and “Papa!” And then I learned to say “Jesus!”  I remained close to Shimon for his remaining time here. Though I did not understand most of his words, my heart told me that he was speaking truth. 

Before they left our village, Shimon again prayed for me. This time he asked God to make me into one of His mighty men – one who God would use to lead others to salvation and to bring great glory to His name. If I had understood what Shimon was praying, I would have told him that Jehovah God had already begun to do that! As they left, Shimon told me he would see me again!

A few days later, I was on the hill watching our flock with my dad. He was teaching me how to be a shepherd … and we were learning how to talk to each other. Off in the distance, my dad and I spotted a large crowd gathering in the valley. Just a little ways up the hill from the crowd was a Man who appeared to be speaking to all of them. Everyone in the crowd was paying close attention. My dad said we were going to lead the flock closer to Him so we could hear what He was saying.

As we got closer, I noticed that there was a group of men standing near the Teacher. Suddenly I realized that one of them was Shimon! I began to wave to get his attention. I could tell that he now saw me, as he waved back! I asked my father for permission to go see him. My dad said, “Yes, stay in a place that I can see you and you can see me. And take your sack of food with you!” With that, I was off as quickly as I could run. When I arrived by his side, Shimon waved at my dad to let him know I was there, and he would keep an eye on me.

As we sat down on the grass, I asked him if the Man speaking was Jesus. He smiled and nodded his head. I didn’t truly understand most of what Jesus was saying. Shimon was able to explain a little bit to me. But I was just happy to be sitting with Shimon and listening to Jesus’s voice.

As the afternoon continued, some of Jesus’s followers approached Him and said, “Send the crowd away to the nearby villages and farms, so they can find food and lodging for the night. There is nothing to eat here in this remote place.”(1) 

But His followers were surprised when Jesus said, “That isn’t necessary, you feed them.”(2) Even I could understand that! But what was Jesus planning to feed them with?

I looked at the crowd, and then I looked at Shimon and said, “That’s a lot of people to feed!” I may not have known all of my words, but I knew my numbers, and it would take a lot of food to feed them. 

Jesus turned to one of the men and asked, “Where can we buy bread to feed all these people?”(3) The man replied, “We’d have to work for months to earn enough money to buy food for all of them!”(4) The man seemed to be a bit put off when Jesus immediately responded, “Don’t look at what you don’t have. Look to see what the Father has already given you. How much bread do you have? Go and find out.”(5)

While Jesus and the man were talking, I tugged on Shimon’s sleeve and showed him the food that my mother had placed in my sack. Though I couldn’t understand all of what was being said, I had a pretty good idea, and I wanted to help any way I could. 

Shimon turned to another one of Jesus’s followers and showed him that I was offering to give all I had. The man called out to Jesus and said, “There’s a young boy here with five barley loaves and two fish. But what good is that with this huge crowd?”(6)

I didn’t wait to hear Jesus’s answer. I stood up and walked over to Him to give Him my small sack of food. I wasn’t thinking about how little I had. I wasn’t thinking about how little it was compared to the great need. I just knew that I owed Him everything I had. As I handed the sack to Jesus, I looked into His eyes. He looked back at me with an expression that was both tender and welcoming. I knew He would know what to do with the food in my sack. He smiled and thanked me as he took the sack from me. 

After Jesus received my food, He looked at His followers and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.”(7) 

As I stood there at His side, Jesus said to His followers, “Tell everyone to sit down.”(8) Once they had been seated, Jesus lifted the sack toward heaven, and gave thanks to the Father for the food … and for my faith. He then began to break the loaves into pieces, giving the pieces to each one of His followers to distribute to the people. They continued to carry the bread from Jesus to the people until everyone had received enough bread. 

Then Jesus did the same with the fish. After everyone had eaten as much as they wanted and they were all full, He said, “Now gather the leftovers, so that nothing is wasted.”(9) 

They filled twelve baskets to the brim with the leftover pieces of bread and fish. As the twelve baskets were set side by side, I looked up at Jesus and smiled. Yes, He had known exactly what to do! And I knew from that moment that I always would be able to trust Him! Jesus wrapped His arm around me and told me that He was proud of me. He told me that I had shown everyone there what it meant to have faith. And He told me to continue to trust Him by faith.

Just before He directed me to return to Shimon’s side, He said, “Tell your parents that Samuel and David are fine. The Father is watching over them, just like He is watching over you. You will see your brothers one day, and they will see you and your parents. It will be a great day of celebration! And I will be there as well. Until then, Jonathan, follow Me!”

Shimon and Simon walked me back to rejoin my father on the hill with our flock. They carried two of the baskets of bread and fish and gave them to my father for our family. Though my dad had seen what took place from a distance, he was still overwhelmed to see and receive the baskets of food. Shimon told him that Jesus’s miracle had all begun with my unselfish act. And he said everyone had learned from me that day. Then he said goodbye and returned to join the rest of the followers of Jesus.

I don’t know when I will see Shimon again or when I will next see Jesus. But I know that I will. It may not be in Chorazin; it may be in heaven … with Samuel and David. Because the One who stood before me … the One who had given me the gift of hearing and so much more … also gave me a promise. And I will trust Him with all that I have … and all that I am.

Excerpted from The One Who Stood Before Us, Ch. 16

Copyright © 2020 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.

First published on kenwinter.org 17-Jun-20

(1)  Luke 9:12

(2)  Matthew 14:16

(3)  John 6:5

(4)  Mark 6:37

(5)  Mark 6:38

(6)  John 6:9

(7)  Matthew 18:3-4

(8)  John 6:10

(9)  John 6:12

Photo by Liz Masoner on Lightstock