Preacher Osborn’s voice rang strong, echoing across the mass of gathered humanity. On the deceitfulness of sin, its destructive fruit in a life. Then of the power of forgiveness, of the cross of Jesus, of hope in him.
The evangelist paused, then turned to a different emphasis.
“Do we have anyone troubled in their body tonight?”
As the air hung quiet above the throng, heads began nodding. Calls of “Ndiyo” sounded from the Mombasa crowd.
“If you are lame, cannot move about well or cannot see through your eyes. . . if your body has stopped working in some way. And if you believe Jesus came to free you, to heal you both soul and body, this is your time to believe him. Do we believe Jesus?”
A ringing chorus rose, “Yes!”
“Well, now we’re going to pray. Remember it is Jesus who heals. I cannot heal anyone. Jesus. He is the deliverer. As the book of Hebrews tells us, ‘Jesus is the same yesterday and today and forever!’ Tell me now, is he the same for your life? Can you trust his love, trust his power? (pause) Believe him! He wants you well.”
The evangelistic with the soft Oklahoma drawl held firmly to his mic. His voice was passionate, marked with sincerity. “Now, let me pray with you. The resurrected Jesus is here. And he will heal. . . will deliver in these moments just now.”
- L. Osborn prayed and the words came simple, clear, strong, with evident conviction. Not a lengthy prayer.
“Now friends, if anyone brought a deaf friend here today, you check with that friend. Look them in the face. Ask them, can you hear?”
As the minister went on with prayer, brief words of guidance and of referencing the Bible, a shout erupted a few feet from where he stood, “Ayeee! Ayeee!”
The shouting voice was Zaila’s. She had willed her eyes open the moment the preacher had called out a phrase, “In Jesus’ name, be healed!” A momentary lull had followed, then. . .
“Ayeee, Ayeee, Ayeee!!”
Wide-eyed with vision, Zaila’s shout of triumph startled Alexander Aidini who stood inches away facing her. Her outburst continued. “I see! I see! . . . I see your face, Mzee Aidini! I see you, I see!!”
The hardened Aidini had tasted little personal fear over the years. If fear was found near him, it was usually him bringing it to others. Fear had not come his way. But now.
Alexander’s inner self trembled. The big man quaked, coming undone in the presence of a force unlike anything he had known.
A shouting, crying Zaila went on, caught up in astonished delight. “Mzee! Mzee Aidini! Nakuona (I am seeing you)! Mzee, hii ni Yesu! – It is Jesus. Jesus!”
At last, Aidini, overcome by conviction, drew himself together. He found his voice.
“I want to get saved. Tell me. How do I get saved?”
©2018 Jerry Lout