Even The Stones Will Cry Out

A blissfully sunny day, thanks be to God, was upon us again one Sunday afternoon late in August. After preaching to crowds of people hungry for the word, my colleagues and I decided to go on a stroll with some who had heard my sermon. I guessed by their looks that they were not from around here; long robes, long hair, long faces. I began to talk to them about their travels. All but one was reluctant to share with me what had befallen them on their trip here. After a while, I realized my efforts were in vain and I resolved to talk to them about their faith. One came forward saying that he was a Christian from far west. He had come with his companions to see the states. I felt that this was an unlikely story, but it was not my duty to judge the legitimacy of their narrative.



Soon, many in my company asked for a break from the walk to rest. I allowed the short intermission, though the foreigners seemed a bit apprehensive at the thought of not arriving on time. As everyone settled down, the foreigners asked if they could convene privately. Without hesitation I urged them to do so, for all the same I would have for myself. Not long after I hear shouts behind me; I shot up and turned to see a pebble sized stone whiz past my head. Immediately I ducked behind a bolder seeking shelter from the rapid fire. I knew it was the foreigners, they had turned on me. The sound of rocks hitting packed dirt ceased momentarily; then I heard footsteps no less than 6 feet from where I hid.
Unsure of my chances, I dashed for the tent on the other side of the field. I knew it was the nearest shelter. Soon rocks came down upon me like I had never felt before. One after another, like the strokes of a hammer driving a nail into wood. I felt the blood on my cloak but I had to keep running. Through a blur of red, tan, and blue I stumbled to the tent in a daze. I must have passed out because I cannot remember anything until the next morning when I awoke to my wife and relations. I felt somewhat betrayed by them. I share the word of God freely with anyone who has ears to listen, even those who don't have them. I feel that they had taken advantage of my gifts and I felt that they were a threat to themselves and those around them.
I have now come to forgive the men who stoned me nearly to death, but it was an episode in my life that I surely thank God for.