Free The Healing by David Park Page A

to do is believe. Everyone can come – the poor and the rich, the learned and the ignorant, the young and the old. Praise God, there’s no discrimination in heaven! But sometimes, I confess, friends, that I feel the very simplicity of God’s free gift is beyond the comprehension of our perverse and wayward generation. Oh yes, if salvation was a matter of works, then I believe some people would feel happier. Can they not understand that the price has been paid in full? And how, indeed, shall we escape if we ignore such an offer of salvation? This journey is one that will satisfy your soul. There are many here tonight who could stand on this very spot and testify to that. It’s a good and rich life, free from the taint of sin, free from condemnation, and it’s yours,yours for the asking. Oh, friend, could I put it any more simply? Come, taste the richness of God’s mercy. Come, bring your heavy burdens and lay them down at the foot of the cross.
    â€˜Think now of that woman we read about who touched Christ’s garment. What made her touch different from all the rest was that she touched in faith. And the moment she did that, she was made well. That same power to cure is waiting here for you tonight. Whether it’s from a terrible burden of sin, or some bodily affliction, it’s here for all to experience. Don’t put off this decision a moment longer. Sinner, hear the voice speaking to your heart. Don’t delay, come in faith and ask for forgiveness. Whether you’re in the autumn of your life, or even if you’re in the seed time, now is the appointed time.’
    He felt like a little bird trapped in the great dome of the tent, desperate to break into the safety of the sky. The words were the bars against which his wings beat frantically until they were bruised and broken.
    â€˜Take this step tonight; move from death into life. Forget the people sitting next to you. Forget everything that would hinder and hold you back. Come and touch the hem of the garment. Come to Jesus. Come!’

Chapter 8
    He rang the bell. He had been right to wait until he heard the voice, right to resist the temptation to rush too quickly towards this moment. Everything had its appointed time and it was for him only to be ready for it. He had not rehearsed what he would say but would speak the words that were given to him. The bell had the same tone as his own, the door the same colour of leaded glass. He looked through a square into the blue world beyond. The door at the end of the hall was open and he could see into the kitchen. As the bell’s sound faded away he stared through a red square and wondered if he should ring it again, but as he raised his hand he saw her coming down the hall, a hand smoothing back her hair. He stepped back off the doorstep and waited.
    â€˜Mrs Anderson? My name is Henry Ellison. I live next door. I’ve come to welcome you and your son to the avenue.’
    He stood, searching her eyes. She smiled at him.
    â€˜That’s very kind of you, Mr – Mr Ellison. Thankyou very much.’
    He stood on, smiling back at her.
    â€˜We’ve just about got ourselves organized. We seemed to be living out of tea chests for a while, but it’s more or less sorted out now.’
    He looked past her down the length of the hall. The boy was peering at him round the living-room door, a pale moon of a face, watching him with sharp, curious eyes. Their eyes met for a second and then the boy vanished into the living-room. He felt a wave of exultation break over him.
    â€˜Well, thank you, Mr Ellison, for calling. It was very kind of you.’
    He stood motionless, staring at where the boy had been.
    â€˜Are you all right, Mr Ellison?’
    A breeze moved the hall light.
    â€˜Mr Ellison?’
    He looked back at her. She was watching him with a puzzled expression. Her hand was on the door handle – she would close it soon.
    â€˜I’d just like to offer,