Jairus’s daughter.

” When I was a child we lived on the shores of Lake Galilee and my father, Jairus, was one of the synagogue leaders. I was only twelve years old but can remember some of the events quite well, while others are hazy. I had been playing out in the fields when I developed the most terrible headache. I went to lie down on my bed and then I don’t remember anything else for a while but my parents later told me what had happened.

My father knew that Jesus, the great healer, was in the area, so he sent for Him to come and heal me. Although my father was an important man, Jesus made him wait as He was busy healing others. In the meantime, the delay was so great that I died. But when Jesus arrived He came into my room with some of His disciples and spoke to me although I was dead. ‘Little girl, I say to you, get up.’ Then like the miracle it was, I woke up just as if I’d been asleep, and Jesus was looking at me with such love in His eyes. I remember that bit so well.

As my grandchildren now gather round my knee, I tell the story once again. I never tire of telling it and they never tire of hearing it. “