And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. Romans 12:2 (MSG)

Eight Days – The Change Your Mind Series – Part 6

Go to PART 1  |  PART 2  |  PART 3  |  PART 4  |  PART 5  |  PART 6  |  PART 7

The last eight days had gone by so fast, yet so slow. Eleven days ago – twelve? He wasn’t sure – it feels like an entire lifetime between now and then. A whole other world ago. This new one, the now reality, isn't clear and vivid anymore. For eleven (or twelve) days now, life whirred by him in a mix of colors and shapes that taunted his faint grasp on reality, only further confirming that he had lost so much, including, perhaps, his mind.

As he walked to meet the others, his thoughts drifted to the man he had followed for the last few years, as he walked to meet the others. This man, who spoke of the world in such ways he was astounded, was now done and dead and gone.

For eight days, he had been avoiding the others. The claims they were making were ridiculous and painful. Careless. Even considered dangerous by some. If he really was missing, and they couldn’t find his body, Rome would make them pay. Caiaphas would spare nothing to see to it.

The memories of that priest’s face twisted in malicious glee made him shake involuntarily. Vomit rose to his mouth. Gagging, he wiped the sickly stench from his chin and wished he could do the same for his soul. He thought about turning around, but he needed to see them.

This time, he was leaving for good.

Up until a few years ago, He had lived a quiet life; predictable. Ordered. It had a steady rhythm to it. He was simple in loyalty and trust. Reliable. What you see is what you get. That’s what they used to say about him.

That was until that day when he met the Rabbi, who told him crazy things about kingdom and peace and mercy and life. His bizarre words felt amazingly like home and changed him in ways both obvious and secret. The Rabbi told him that things could be different, AND that they should be.

His transformation from quiet man to revolution participant had stalled eleven (or twelve) days ago when his Rabbi was crucified on a Roman cross; a political and public message to all who dared look. Everything crumbled, fell apart – the home he had built within himself caved inwardly until it was rubble in his soul. And then eight days ago, his friends, the others, told him that their Rabbi had defied death. They said they saw him. Alive. Breathing.

John and Peter were delirious in their excitement and belief, so much so that their antics mirrored that of John the Baptist's. Which only reminded him of that crazy man’s head on a silver plate… And after what had happened eleven (or twelve… maybe it was thirteen, or perhaps only ten) days ago, he – the man walking down that lonely dirt road toward the people he had once called brothers – had given up on wild, crazy revolutions. And the men who led them.

It had cost him too much, and now he was bankrupt. Worse… overdrawn. Neck deep in a faith-debt he could never repay.

As he turned the final corner toward the house, he rehearsed his speech in his head. “Why? What for? Why did he leave us? He made us look like fools! He said he was going to save us all!”

He pushed the door open and walked in. They were all there, excited, talking… he slipped up the back, eyes on his feet, sorting out words…

“Unless I can see through his shredded hands the evidence of his torture and touch that spear hole in his side…”

Mid-thought a voice broke through the room.

“Here are my hands. Do you want to feel them? The skin is a bit looser than it used to be. And that spear hole in my side? You can touch that too. If that’s what you need. Don’t be unbelieving. Believe.”

Thomas’s head snapped up. He saw eyes he never thought he would see again. And they weren't filled with condemnation, but with kindness and wonder. These were the eyes that a few years ago, invited him to follow. The same eyes that closed for the final time eleven (whatever) days ago. But here and now, right in front of him, they were bright and more alive than ever.

Things didn’t instantly clear up at that moment, but the light came back. The shapes and colors started making sense, and Thomas began to see (again) that things could change. Impossible things. Even dead things.

Not only because they can, but because they should.

Go to Part 7 – Just the Beginning »

Written by Lizzy Milani
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