Aeneas’ Story
Today I made my bed for the first time in eight years.
Maybe it doesn’t sound like a great accomplishment when I put it that way.
Let me explain.
I’ve been paralyzed and bedridden for the past eight years. Before that, I was seen as a hard-working young man, a blessing to my family, but after the accident that snapped my back and rendered me immobile I became basically helpless. I couldn’t join my new friends for worship and prayer at each other’s homes, but thankfully they came to me as often as they could.
One day, when I was at my lowest, my brother in Jesus, Barnabas reminded me of my own name, Aeneas.
“Your name means praise,” Barnabas told me.
“But I’m basically useless now,” I argued. “How can I bring any praise to God in this state, in this bed?”
“You bring praise to God just by being you, who he made you to be, Aeneas. And yes, even while you remain prone in this sick bed, you serve all of us.”
“What? How do I ‘serve’ you, Barnabas?” I bitterly shook my head.
“You pray for me, do you not?”
“Well, yes, I prayed for you and the others as you ventured into the city to share the good news last Sunday.”
“And your prayers were felt and empowered us to share boldly the goodness of God in the marketplace. Several new brothers and sisters were added to the fellowship that very day. Truly ‘one sows, one reaps, but all share in the harvest’” Barnabas grabbed my hand. “Thank you, my friend.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. Yes, I was still loved and needed by my family in Jesus. And yes, I determined in my heart that I would continue to be ‘praise’ even I as lay in my bed.
Until today. Today Barnabas came running into my room before the sun came up over the hill behind my open window.
“Aeneas!” he shouted, out of breath. “Peter is here, Simon Peter is here in Lydda and he’s coming to see you!”
Barnabas helped me to bathe and dressed me in clean, fresh-smelling clothes as I lay helpless on my bed.
“Why would Peter, the apostle come to my house?” I wondered to myself after Barnabas had left to guide Peter to my home.
In response to my unspoken question, I felt the nearness of the Holy Spirit of Jesus wrap around me, and my heart swelled with praise to the One who always made me feel valued, loved, a part of his family.
Not long after that I heard the many voices of my friends, and they filed into my little room, gathering around my bed.
Barnabas made the introductions. “Peter, meet my dear friend, Aeneas!”
Peter looked intently at me. I saw him scan my prone, immobile frame, and then his eyes found mine. He said nothing at first. It looked as if he was listening to someone, his head slightly tilted as if leaning in to hear better. He briefly lifted his head toward heaven, then turned his full attention back on me.
“Aeneas, man of praise, Jesus the Anointed One instantly and divinely heals you.” Peter stopped and smiled. “And Jesus tells you, ‘Now get up and make your bed’.”
I felt the healing in my spirit, not in my body, but at the sound of Peter’s command I simply obeyed , threw my formerly paralyzed legs over the side of my cot, and rose to my feet for the first time in eight long years.
I spied my mother in the crowd, tears running down her face as she smiled widely. “You heard him, Aeneas!” she laughed. “Now make your bed!”
I began to laugh with her and all my friends joined in with hilarious mirth, tears of joy on every face, including my dearest friend, Barnabas and my mentor, Papa Peter.
I was the center of attention as I bowed to the room, then with much flourish smoothed the worn sheets on my thin mattress, pulled the blanket over the top and tucked it in all around.
Today, the first day of the rest of my life, I made my bed and called it praise as I fully intend to do every day for the rest of my life.
