If you would prefer to listen to this story as an audio recording, CLICK HERE.
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NOTE: As has become my annual practice, starting this week and for the three weeks that follow, i will be posting four short stories about four different people who encountered Jesus during the months leading up to His crucifixion and resurrection. You will find each of these individuals in the Gospel accounts, however i have added fictional elements to each of their stories so that we might see each one … as they journeyed through their lives leading up to their encounter … and as they continued their journey in the days that followed. You will read the parts of their stories you may already know … and the rest that could have been. Though some of the other characters and details contained in each story may be fictional, you will find the truth conveyed about the One they each encountered to be very REAL! My prayer is that through the stories, you will see Jesus and be reminded of the Good News of the cross and the empty tomb as we enter into this season of remembrance. To that end, let’s look at their stories:
The Paralytic (This week – March 23)
The Grieving Mother (March 30)
The One Caught In The Act (April 6)
The Man Who Owned The Upper Room (April 13)
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My name is Yanis. I grew up in the hills overlooking the Sea of Galilee not far from the road that now leads from Tiberias to Nazareth. The men of my family have been shepherds as long as anyone can remember. I never had to wonder what I would do when I grew up. Because I am my father’s oldest son, there was never any question that I, too, would be a shepherd – and one day my father’s flock would become mine.
My father began teaching me how to care for our sheep and goats when I was still very young. We kept the animals in the fold during the months of January and February to protect them from harsh weather. Our fold was a walled enclosure behind our home with a roof overhead to help shield the animals from the elements. Though we never experienced the snow and cold weather that others did farther north, our winters were still very rainy and cool.
I’ll never forget the first time my father told me to feed the animals in the fold. I was eight years old. When they heard me enter, every one of them, young and old, stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to look at me. My father told me to talk to them so they would begin to know my voice.
The older members of the flock walked toward me to get a closer look. They knew I didn’t look or sound like my father. They began to look at me so critically from beneath those shaggy eyebrows that I started to get nervous. They were trying to decide if they could trust me. I worked to control the nervousness in my voice.
I could tell they were anxious as they looked at the food I set before them. They smelled it and then they tasted it. When they decided it was the same food my father gave them each day, they seemed to calm down. As they began to eat, I continued to talk to them. Eventually, they began to know my voice and decided they could trust me. That began a lifelong relationship.
Each year I looked forward to spring. Come spring, the sheep – and the shepherds – are both ready to get out of the fold and step out onto the fresh, green grass pushing out of the ground. The sheep’s winter fleece is sheared and the sounds of new life echo as lambs are born. As a boy, I began to name each new lamb and kid. It always amazed me how quickly they learned to respond to their names.
There is nothing like spring in the hills of Galilee! As you look toward the eastern horizon, you’ll see the morning star fading into daylight, as if it were welcoming the rising sun. It’s calling out to the birds to awaken and serenade the hills with their songs of joy. The flowers are just beginning to paint the hillside with the colors of spring. Yes, there is nothing like spring in the hills of Galilee!
When summer heat set in, we would move our flock to cooler pastures on even higher ground. For days on end, we would work and sleep outdoors, allowing the flock to graze on the steep green slopes. We would construct a temporary sheepfold to shelter the flock and protect them from jackals and hyenas. We took turns with the other shepherds standing guard over the sheepfold gate. If the howl of a hyena or jackal panicked the flock during the night, our reassuring voices would calm them down.
Often, one of the animals would wander off. That’s why we named each one and kept a close count – if one went missing we were able to call it by name. Sheep can find some of the most dangerous places to become stranded. They will step onto a precarious ledge just to get a taste of a small clump of grass.
Fortunately, my father had taught me to carry a staff among other things. He taught me how to gently wrap the crook of my staff around a stranded sheep and lift it safely into my arms. He showed me how to place a rope around a sheep’s midsection to lower it to safety. My father also taught me how to use a rod and a sling to fend off the advances of any attacker. Once I found and rescued a lost sheep, I would lift it and carry it on my shoulders as we returned to the flock. It helped reassure the animal that though it had been lost, now it was found and safe.
Last year, I was off looking for one of our lost sheep. It was early spring. It had been raining for almost a week and the hillside was muddy. I spotted the lost lamb on a ledge sticking out from a steep crag. I had long ago stopped trying to figure out how sheep could ever put themselves in such danger. I knew I needed to climb to the top of the crag and reach down with my staff. The rocks were slippery, so I carefully made my way to the top.
I was able to hook the sheep on my first try. As I began to lift him toward me, he shifted in the crook of the staff and I lost my balance. Suddenly I was sliding down the steep face of the crag. While still cradling the sheep, I reached out with my free hand to grasp something to stop my fall. My hand kept grabbing air until I landed on my back on a rocky ledge. Snap! Suddenly, I realized I couldn’t move. The sheep fell right on top of me, so I clutched him to my chest.
I didn’t have any feeling in my legs. One was limply hanging over the ledge, and the other was somehow folded underneath me. I knew I was too far away from the other shepherds for them to hear me shout. But I trusted that my father would eventually come looking for me.
I don’t know how long I laid there on that ledge. My pain eventually overtook me and graciously I became unconscious. It was my father who found me, and who, with the assistance of several other shepherds, successfully lowered me to the ground. They contrived a pallet so my father and four of my friends could carry me home.
It was the next day before I regained consciousness. The last thing I remembered was lying there on the ledge with the sheep on my chest as I called out to God to rescue me … and like a Good Shepherd, He had.
One of our neighbors traveled to Tiberias to find a physician who could attend to me. After setting my leg, which was broken in two places, the doctor turned to me and my parents and said, “The rock you fell on, young man, injured your spine. I’m sorry, but it is doubtful that you will ever walk again.” That is difficult for anyone to hear – but especially a seventeen-year-old with his whole life ahead of him. I tried to be brave for my family as we absorbed the news – but inside I was still calling out to God to rescue me.
As the months passed, my broken leg healed – for all the good it did me. I still wasn’t able to get out of bed. I was grateful for my four friends. Whenever they weren’t in the hills watching over their sheep, they were there by my side. They did everything they could to encourage me and cheer me up. But still the days passed slowly – and I continued to call out to God to rescue me.
Eventually spring returned, and my friends insisted I was not going to miss the sights and sounds of new life. They took me on my pallet to the top of the hill to look down on the sea. They set me down on the ground so I could feel the fresh grass, smell the new flowers, and hear the birds as they delivered their spring songs. I longed to run free and climb the hill with the flock – so I continued to call out to God to rescue me.
One day, my friends came to me with stories about a Miracle Worker by the name of Jesus. He had lived in nearby Nazareth, but now He was traveling throughout Galilee. My friends told me they had heard how He could make the blind see, the lame walk, and the leper clean. Perhaps He could make me walk! It was the first time I permitted myself to have a glimmer of hope.
“We hear He is in Capernaum,” one of my friends announced.
“But that’s a day’s journey away,” I said. “And that’s if you have two good legs and are able to walk!”
“Yes, but the four of us have eight good legs and we are able to carry you!” my friend replied with a smile. There was no talking them out of it. And I began to have hope that the Good Shepherd had heard my cry.
It took us two days to make the journey. When we arrived in Capernaum, we learned that Jesus was teaching in the synagogue.
It seemed as if every man from every village in all of Judea and Galilee was gathered in that place! The crowd had spilled out into the street and courtyard surrounding the synagogue. There was no way we could enter. My friends had carried me all this way, but now we weren’t going to be able to get to the Miracle Worker. My heart sank – and again I quietly called out to the Good Shepherd to rescue me.
One of my friends suddenly looked up and pointed to the roof of the building. “All of our lives we have been rescuing stranded and injured sheep by lowering them to safety,” he said. “This isn’t any different! We have not traveled this far to turn away!”
They carried me up on the roof. There was a man there observing the commotion below. I could tell from the way he was dressed that he, too, was a shepherd. He didn’t try to stop my friends; he just watched to see what they were going to do. In a matter of moments, my friends were removing roof tiles near where Jesus was speaking. Initially no one seemed to notice, which gave my friends the confidence to keep going.
Once they made the opening large enough, they attached ropes to the four corners of the pallet. By this time everyone inside the synagogue was looking up at us – including Jesus. My friends were not going to stop because of a few stares! They began to gently lower me through the opening. The crowd parted as my friends lowered me onto the ground right in front of Jesus.
As I lay there on the pallet gazing up at Him, He looked at me and smiled. Somehow, I felt like I had seen His face before. Then I realized I had – on the day of my accident. As I had lain unconscious on the ledge, I saw Him looking at me just as He was right now – and He had told me He would rescue me. Standing over me was the Good Shepherd! He had heard my cry then and He heard it now. He was going to rescue me! He would free me so I could walk again. He would raise me up!
Jesus looked at me, looked up at my friends, and then turned back toward me and said, “Young man, your sins are forgiven.”(1) Immediately the religious leaders in the room began to cackle like hens. “Who does He think He is?” they exclaimed. “That’s blasphemy! Only God can forgive sins!”(2)
Having heard them, Jesus replied, “Why do you question? Is it easier for Me to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or ‘Stand up and walk’? So that you will know that I have authority to forgive sins, I now say to this man, stand up, pick up your mat, and go home!”(3)
The Good Shepherd had just told me to get up. I heard His voice. I knew His voice. I knew I was His sheep. And I knew there was only one thing to do. Get up! The crowd gasped as I jumped to my feet. My friends cheered. And I stood there not quite knowing what to do next. I bowed before Him, then looked into His eyes and thanked Him. I reached down, picked up my pallet, and walked out of the room. The people parted and marveled as they watched me go by.
By the time I got outside, my friends were already there to greet me. As we embraced, I realized that Jesus had not only touched my life that day, He had forever changed my friends’ lives, too. As we stood there together praising God, the man who had been on the roof approached us.
I asked him who he was. “Me? My name is Shimon, and I’m just another shepherd,” he said. “A shepherd who now follows the Good Shepherd.” His eyes brightened even more as he looked into mine and said, “And He just rescued another sheep! You’re why He came here today. He knew you would come. He came to forgive you of your sins – yours and those of each of your friends. As you return to your homes, tell your families and friends what He has done. Tell them that today you have all been rescued by the Good Shepherd.” With that, he turned and walked away.
My thoughts turned back to Jesus. The Good Shepherd had stood before me! He had told me to get up, and I had obeyed. I knew I was His sheep. And I knew there was only one thing I needed to do – and that was to stand up. Now I knew there was one more thing I needed to do. I needed to tell everyone I encountered about the One who had stood before me and rescued me!
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This story is taken from The One Who Stood Before Us, a collection of forty short stories.The entire collection is available through Amazon in standard print, large print, for your e-reader. Click HERE for more information on how you can obtain your copy.
You can listen to an audio recording of this story by tuning into this week’s episode of my podcast by CLICKING HERE
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In multiple instances the dialogue in this story comes directly from Scripture. Whenever i am quoting Scripture, it has been italicized. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.
The Scripture references are as follows:
(1) Luke 5:20
(2) Luke 5:21
(3) Luke 5:22
Copyright © 2022 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.
Photo by LUMO – The Gospels for the visual age on Lightstock