Here’s a story from a little while ago.
A young accomplished doctor. Well spoken, semi successful, and still has the whole world ahead of him. His heart goes out to the nations without the ability to help themselves. One day he hears a small 3rd world nation suffering from a disease, an epidemic. It ravages the nation, leaving hundred dead in its wake. A disease that would quickly be eradicated if a certain person with a certain specialized skill can come and help. He knows he has to go. His wife and kids refuse to let him go and risk the danger. It’s hopeless. How is one man going to change a nation? But they can’t change the fire in his eyes. That lifelong passion, the dream, it all comes out because he knows. He knows he has to go, it’s almost a physical force telling him to go. He holds back the flood in his eyes as he hugs his kids and kisses his wife before flying out.
3 years pass…
There’s few means of communication to home. The doctor manages to send a letter every so often but not as much as he liked to. One day his wife finally gets that one that makes her burst into tears. I did it, I found the cure! I can come home now, he wrote. She tells the kids and manages to gather friends and family to meet him as he comes home. The day he comes back he is met with a huge crowd of people.
A hero’s welcome. Triumph over evil. A miracle maker.
His wife comes and kisses him, his two kids jump on him and knock him over, now 3 years heavier. Everyone is crying around him and laughing and enjoying his presence. But there is a dullness in his eyes. His lips are smiling and laughing, but his eyes hide something he holds deep inside. He did what he needed to do, but he also knew the cost.
He caught the disease. Getting it early on, he couldn’t find the cure quickly enough to stop it.
Only a week left…
~ Luke 19:28-44
