An Instrument in His Hands

Part 1 Chapter 6

Part 1

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Andrew screamed. He moaned and called out all day and into the night. I laid awake at night waiting for the neighbors to come to our gate and complain. Mother took to her bed once again because her nerves could not bear Andrew’s agony. Father took a turn at night sitting with Andrew.

I did all I could too, determined to pull my weight. I helped the servants, who were now grateful for my efforts. I dropped to my knees in prayer, and I spent hours reading to Andrew from the sacred records. I prayed for Christ to forgive Andrew and to heal him. I prayed long into the night and every time his cries awoke me.

It was a terrible thing to witness his hell. It was much worse than what I suffered being hungry. How could he have come to this state? What would become of my brother? What would he choose?

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to continue to blame the sons of the King. I wanted to think that none of this trouble was of my own making and would go away soon. But it was too awful to go away soon. The only blessing was that he was not out causing us more debt.

The first day that I read to Andrew from the Brass Plates, I felt frightened, and read chastening words like: ‘My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. If they say, Come with us, my son, walk not thou in the way with them; refrain thy foot from their path.’

By the second day, I covered my fear with bitterness, and read: ‘It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in PRINCES.’

Muloki, who came most often to sit with Andrew, admonished me to have more faith in Christ, and said that we all needed forgiveness and strength from God.

Thereafter I read words like, ‘O God, be merciful unto me: for my soul trusteth in thee: yea in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast.’

I became quite impressed with the example of young men that stayed by Andrew’s side day after day. There were several who came and went from our home. They never tired of serving and encouraging him - daily, nightly, weekly. I confess that I enjoyed their company very much.  Since Andrew left I had not spoken much with young men. These were both faithful and full of faith. I wished I could be as they were.

Every day I made them soup, and cut them bread and cheese to eat. Occasionally I joined them in their vigil by Andrew’s side. And often I read from the sacred Word of God.

‘How long will Andrew suffer these discomforts?’ I softly asked Muloki late one night about a week after Andrew had been brought home, as we sat beside his bed in the guttering candlelight. Andrew had eaten a full meal and conversed with us, then fallen off to sleep again.

Muloki folded his hands together in front of his chin. ‘Until the poisons pass from his body. The process is sped up greatly by acceptance of the help of Jesus Christ. We must encourage Andrew to accept this help.’

‘What if he does not?’ I whispered across to the kind face dancing in the flickering shadows.

‘God is the only way,’ Muloki whispered back. ‘There is no other way.’

‘What happens?’

‘A person in Andrew’s condition is held prisoner by Satan. He is bound to him. We can release the poisons, but not Andrew from the desire for more poison. Only Christ can do this.’

‘Oh God,’ I prayed, ‘Have mercy on us. Have mercy on my brother! Come down from your throne above and put your arms about Andrew and save him. Loose him from the bands of sin and of Satan.’