Isabel looked up from where he sat among the other leaders of the Bible study. The chilly night wind rustled the trees outside of the small home, branches scraped against the tin roof of the porch.
The dim light from the single bulb overhead cast flickering shadows across the worn wooden table, illuminating the Bibles and notebooks spread before them.
The light flickered and almost died.
Isabel made a mental note. He’d have to buy new light bulbs before the group met on Thursday.
The Bible study had grown so much since it had started in his home seven years ago.
Had it really been that long? It seemed like it was only yesterday that he had accepted the Lord.
After his son had almost died.
—
Eric had been only four months old when the sickness came, an unrelenting cough that no priest or witch doctor could cure.
At times, baby Eric would stop breathing, turning purple and growing limp in Isabel’s desperate arms.
Then his wife committed the greatest treachery of all. She took her son to the new village church—one that preached salvation by grace and not by saints or rituals.
She declared that if Jesus healed her son, she would commit her life to serving him.
Isabel had been furious. Their shouts would mingle with the weak cries of their dying infant. It would be her fault if their son died. Didn’t she understand that God was a harsh ruler who gave nothing for free?
But what could he do? He had never known his own father, and more than anything wanted to be a good one. Yet this sickness had left him helpless. He had spent every last coin on medicine, on priests, on witch doctors. Nothing had worked.
His son would be taken from him.
Still, his wife insisted Jesus would save their son. None of it made sense.
Each Sunday, she carried the frail infant to the church, and Isabel seethed. How could she expose their dying child to wind and cold chasing after some new religion? Why couldn’t she accept the inevitable? They should just let the boy to die in peace and beg the virgin to accept him in heaven?
But then, something unexplainable happened.
Week by week, both the baby and Isabel’s wife returned with shining eyes and a renewed strength.
Baby Eric’s his cries became steady and sure, his tiny frame filling out with new life. And, before Isabel knew it, his sickly infant grew into a chubby, energetic baby, toddling around, learning to walk.
Isabel couldn’t believe it. But yet there was the proof before his eyes. Was there truth to what his wife insisted? Did this Jesus offer a salvation greater than saints and witchcraft?
Isabel did the only thing he could do. He walked through the church doors himself and gave his life to the One who had given his son back to him.
—
Now, years later, Isabel shook his head, letting the memories settle as he stood from the table. Around him, the other teachers continued their discussion, planning for the discipleship gathering on Thursday.
The night air had grown colder, so he moved to the stove and added more wood to the fire. Atol bubbled in the pot on the stove. A hot drink to be shared at the end of the study.
Isabel straightened from attending the fire. Village lights could be seen overlooking the hillside. The smoke of a hundred family fires drifted in the evening air.
The village and his family had called him a traitor when he accepted Christ. A weak husband. A shame to his family. But there was no turning back.
He had received a gift. And he committed himself to lead his family in accepting and treasuring that same gift as well, no matter the cost.
A few years after accepting Christ, an American missionary had come to the village and started a Bible study with his wife. Isabel had opened his home. It would not just be his wife and neighbors who studied the Bible together, he and his sons would attend as well.
It didn’t matter that his children were young. Eric had only been six at the time. But Isabel was strict. His three boys would sit at table during Bible study. They would listen.
Wasn’t that the best gift he could give his sons? To know Jesus as he had?
Almost eight years had passed, and after learning to read and interpret Scripture for themselves, the American missionary had given their small group a new task: to invite and teach new believers.
Could you imagine that?
Isabel had never even finished middle school. And now the missionary had given him the job to teach others?
He had taken the responsibility as a great honor. But now he was not enough. The group had grown again and the youngest boys now needed a teacher of their own.
“We need to think and pray,” the American missionary was saying. She looked around the table at the other leaders before meeting Isabel’s gaze. “We need to pray that God raises up another leader. Let’s think of who we could invite to help us.”
Isabel didn’t need to think. He already knew.
He quietly excused himself and stepped away, leaving the murmur of discussion behind as he entered the house. Pulling back the curtain of his son’s small room, he found Eric bent over his schoolwork.
At fourteen, Eric was almost a man. But in the dim light, Isabel saw him again as an infant cradled in his arms, breathless and fading.
He shook the image away. “Son.”
Eric glanced up and grinned. “How are the teachers? Getting ready for Thursday? I invited one of my classmates to join.”
“Son, come with me.” Isabel said.
Eric cocked his head, “What’s going on?”
Isabel met his gaze. “I want you to learn how to be a teacher, too. We need someone to help with the boys, your little brothers included. Will you do it?”
Eric hesitated, his eyes widened.
Isabel stepped forward. “I will help you. I will teach you to walk in my steps.”
Eric pondered for a moment and gave a nod. He stood, his height nearly matching his father’s now. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
Isabel clapped his son on the shoulder. “Let’s go introduce the newest Bible study leader to the group.”
As they walked back to the porch, Isabel felt his chest swell with pride and gratitude.
Years ago, the Lord had given him his son back from the edge of death. And now, he would give his son back to the Lord.
What greater gift could a father give?
