Story of the Month

God Smiles At Great Faith And Small

told by Dodie Davis

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Rebekah heard the familiar sound of the tiny silver bell and sat up suddenly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her mistress needed her! What time was it? Had she overslept? She threw off the warm sheepskin and stood up quickly from her sleeping mat on the floor. She hurriedly exchanged her night robe for a white toga and grabbing a bright blue sash, knotted it around her waist.

“Oh God who smiles on me, help me to be your servant today and show my mistress that you are the one and only true God who made the universe and each one of us for Yourself.” Rebekah whispered the words as she slipped her feet into well-worn leather sandals and left the room.

It seemed like such a short time ago that she sat beside her mother in their home in the land of Israel and heard her say, “Rebekah, the great prophet of God, Elisha, is coming to our home today and you must be very respectful to him. She was five years old and she stared in wide-eyed awe at this thin, old man with the wrinkled, brown skin, piercing eyes and bushy, white hair and beard. He noticed Rebekah staring at him. He smiled and patted her gently on the head. “Little one, God smiles when He looks on you.”

Rebekah never forgot that meeting and those words. She liked thinking of Jehovah as the God who smiled on her. Now here she was, ten years later, living in the land of Syria as a servant. She remembered the day she was walking toward home with her water jug balanced on her head, thinking about what she would do with this beautiful day now that her chores were finished. And then the whole world went black. When she opened her eyes she found herself riding on the back of a horse behind a soldier, her hands tied around his waist.

That was how, captured and spirited away from her home, she ended up as a servant in the house of Naaman, commander of the Syrian Army. She learned from the other servants’ whispers that Captain Naaman had LEPROSY!

She was so homesick at first. She cried herself to sleep every night and begged her mistress to please let her go home. Her mistress stroked her hair and wiped away her tears with the corner of her robe. “I can’t send you home, little one, but I can promise you will be treated well here. My husband is a good man. He knew I was sad without any children of our own and he gave you to me. You are a gift to me!

That night Rebekah dreamed she was back with her family and suddenly the old prophet appeared and again patted her on the head and repeated the words, “God smiles when He looks on you, little one.”

Now a cool breeze brushed her face as she sped across the open atrium to her mistress’s bedroom. The early rays of the sun were just beginning to creep across the marble floor. She heard the birds starting their morning songs out in the gardens and vaguely heard the soft splashing of the fountain in the middle of the atrium. No, she hadn’t overslept…it was early yet. What could her mistress want so early?

Rebekah knocked on the door twice and opened it. Sounds of sobbing filled the room. “Oh, my lady, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Has something terrible happened?” Rebekah kneeled down by her mistress full of concern.

“Rebekah! My husband’s leprosy is getting worse. Last night a spark from the fire landed on his hand and he didn’t even notice it. He has a deep burn now on his hand and he can’t even feel it. The servants are starting to avoid getting too near him and he’s afraid the king will say he is not fit to lead the army any longer. We have been praying to the gods every day and offering sacrifices but he just keeps getting worse.”

Rebekah could hardly bear to see this woman who was like a second mother to her, suffering so. What could she do to help? Jehovah God, she prayed silently. Show me how I can help my master and mistress.

Almost before she finished praying it came to her. Of course! God’s prophet, Elisha. If anyone could help, he could. He could even heal Captain Naaman’s leprosy. She was sure of it. She had heard many times of the miracles Elisha had performed. Why he had even brought a dead boy back to life.

“I know who can help you!” Rebekah’s eyes shone with excitement. “There is a prophet of God living in Israel. He can heal Captain Naaman. Tell him to go see Elisha.”

A week later the King of Israel received a letter from the King of Syria. He broke the seal, opened the letter and read it. His mouth dropped open in shock and he shook his head in dismay. “This is impossible! Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? Why does this fellow send someone to me to be cured of leprosy? He is just trying to pick a quarrel with me.” The King shouted and raged and in a final gesture of frustration ripped apart his royal robes.

Several weeks went by and then one day the King of Israel received another letter. It was from Elisha and it simply said, “Why have you torn your robes? Have the man come to me and he will know that there is a prophet of God in Israel.”

So that’s how it happened that a few days later Naaman and a whole troop of his soldiers and servants rode up to the front door of Elisha’s house in their chariots. Almost immediately a servant appeared in the doorway and asked them what they wanted. Naaman’s horses stamped the ground impatiently as Naaman leaned over the side of his chariot and said, “I was told to come to the prophet Elisha and he would heal me of my leprosy.”

The servant bowed respectfully and disappeared inside the house. In a few minutes he came back out. “My master says that you are to go wash yourself seven times in the Jordan River and your flesh will be restored and you will be clean.”

“Wash myself in that muddy, old river? Wait just a minute! I thought the prophet would come out and call on the name of his God and wave his hand over me or something. And if I have to dip myself in a river, why can’t it be the CLEAN rivers of Damascus?”

Gehazi just stood there, head down and hands behind his back. He didn’t say a word but he thought—I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t put one toe in that dirty, smelly water.

Naaman waited but Gehazi didn’t move and so Naaman whirled his chariot around and motioned for his men to follow. How dare a lowly Israelite, prophet or not, treat the commander of the entire Syrian Army like that?

Just then two of Naaman’s servants approached him. They bowed respectfully and waited for permission to speak.

“Well, what is it?” Naaman snapped. He was struggling with anger and disappointment.

“Excuse us, my lord, but we were just thinking that if the prophet had asked you to do some great and difficult thing, wouldn’t you have done it? Instead he has asked you to do a very simple thing—just wash in the river and you will be clean. Can it hurt to at least try?”

Naaman’s anger began to fade. Maybe they were right. After all, it was an easy thing to do. But it sure would make him look foolish if nothing happened. All his soldiers and servants would be watching. Naaman struggled with his thoughts. Was there really only one true God who created everything? Would He take pity on one man and heal his leprosy? Or was the prophet, Elisha, just trying to make him look like a fool?

Naaman hesitated for a minute and then stepped out into the Jordan River. Mud and bits of debris swirled around his legs. He kept going until he was waist deep in the water. He took a deep breath and lowered himself up to his neck. UGH! He stood up quickly and looked at his arms. The tell-tale white patches and ugly burn on his right hand were still there.

He glanced at the men standing on the shore staring at him. This was SO humiliating. A large black bird cried hoarsely from the dead branch of a fallen tree as if mocking him. Clouds moved across the sky and blocked out the sun. Naaman shivered with disgust and lowered himself once more into the tepid water. Again he examined his arms—nothing. Three…four…five…why seven? What was so special about the number seven? But each time Naaman dipped down in the water he felt conviction growing in his heart that this was right and something was about to happen.

As he went down for the sixth time he found himself praying to this unknown God of Israel. “If you are the only true God please accept my little bit of belief and heal me.” Now he felt the water close around his body for the seventh time. He trembled with both fear and excitement and shut his eyes as he came up out of the water. He couldn’t look…yes, he could…he had to! He opened his eyes and held out his arms. The white patches were gone and the red scar of the burn had completely disappeared. His skin was smooth and brown—healthy as a young boy’s.

A thrill of pure joy shot through his being and he raised both fists in the air in triumph. “I’m healed,” he shouted to the men lining the shore. “My leprosy is gone.” Naaman didn’t notice that the sun had broken through the clouds and seemed to be smiling on him.

On a late afternoon Rebekah was summoned to her mistress’s room by the familiar sound of the little bell. When she entered the room she saw Captain Naaman sitting by his wife. There was a smile on both their faces and her mistress’s eyes were shining with glad tears. Captain Naaman stood up and came quickly toward Rebekah. He took both her hands in his and kissed them. Then he held out his arms so she could see there was no evidence of any leprosy. “Your God has smiled on me, Rebekah and now I know there is no god except the GOD OF ISRAEL.”

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