THE ASCENDED MASTER AND THE WAITING DISCIPLE
They stood just afar from the strong flowing Jordan. Their clothes not wet at all, because the mighty Jordan just gave way to these two men of God. The sun was up, and the brightness of the day permeated the cold pleasant wind blowing through his long grey hair, and almost bending his beard to one side. This rugged old man stood tall and strong, his deep eyes peering intensely over the desert skyline. The dust storm rolling far away in the horizon did not hurry his thoughts.
His wise dark brown eyes, then turned at the young wiry man standing next to him. A smile turned the corners of his mouth, as he looked with great fondness over this faithful ‘follower’. This young man had served him all these years. Never leaving him alone, always caring, always serving, and always learning.
Clearing his parched throat, he said very quietly, “Ask what you want me to do for you? Just ask”
Immediately this young man retorted. He was kind of ready for this happening. He already foresaw this in his young spirit. “Let me have a double portion of your spirit father!”
The old man’s kind eyes fondly rested on this faithful ‘son’ who was longing for his own season in life that was about to begin in another few electric moments.
The old man said, “You asked me a hard thing son, nevertheless…your absolute surrender and strong faith can let you have this for sure. That’s what I want for you too!”
The noise of the wind was getting stronger now, almost to a roar. The desert sand forming a rising cloud getting closer by the second.
The old prophet leapt forward, unafraid, almost knowing where he was going. The young prophet followed closely, not wanting to lose him. Soon the old prophet held the young man’s elbow, his grip hard and strong, and he said, “if you can see me when I’m taken from you…you will get my spirit, hang on boy!”
He did not expect this. The chariot came suddenly, separating them asunder. Pure fire. Horses on fire and galloping at great speed, their hooves thundering and reverberating, kicking up the loose sand. The fire on the horses and chariot, so intense that the young prophet had to shade his eyes. But he saw his father taken up, the cloud now whirring a with a great noise, almost to such a high decibel that can tear human ears.
The horses turned, as if guided by a great hand, and climbed the cloud with ease. This young prophet saw it all.
Then the pain of separation of being alone, now gripped his heart. He ran forward, just like his father did, and in a flash of the moment you can get only when inspiration drops from Heaven, he understood all that was happening. Looking up, against the wind and the dust, he shouted with all his strength, “My father, my father…the chariots and the horsemen of Israel!”
And then everything fell silent. Almost pin drop.
Falling on the cold sand beneath him this young man began to tear his garments, as tears began flowing freely.
Now on the desert sand, his face deep in his folded arms, and still sobbing hard, he suddenly felt the caress of something touching his long young hair. Lifting up his head, he saw it!
Elijah’s mantle lay covering his head. The smell of the man still fresh there.
Elisha jumped up, clutching his father’s garment close to him.
The power had descended!
“Ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto Me”.
No follower of Jesus is exempt from the call to be a witness. We cannot do anything without His power.
You go now!