Elisha & The Shunammite

00:00:00 Speaker 1: Previously on The Chosen People Tell me, Elisha, what would you have of me before I go? 00:00:09 Speaker 2: If I'm going to survive in this calling, this path, please grant me a double portion of your spirit. 00:00:18 Speaker 1: The sky split open. A whirlwind of fire spiraled down from the heavens. 00:00:25 Speaker 2: Father! 00:00:26 Speaker 1: Father! 00:00:28 Speaker 2: Don't leave me! 00:00:30 Speaker 3: The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha. 00:00:34 Speaker 2: It was the Lord who parted the waters, not I. He is the archer. I am just the arrow. 00:00:40 Speaker 1: There was work to do. Elisha walked on, but he knew he did not walk alone. The house of Nariah and Miriam was, in many ways, the heart of Shunem. It wasn't the largest house in town though, but still it was the house that people gravitated toward. The house where weary travellers found a meal without having to ask. Where the poor found a warm place to sit in the winter. Where the children of the streets found laughter, lessons and love when the world had otherwise ignored them. Miriam, the lady of the house, was gifted in hospitality. not for the sake of display or self-importance, but for the sheer joy of welcoming others. Her favorite place was at a table, surrounded by friends, watching the weight of life's struggles slip off their shoulders as they ate and drank and spoke of things both deep and silly. Naraya, her husband, was a man with sawdust in his beard and calluses on his hands. He was respected in Shunem for his skill. No one built sturdier homes, but he was beloved for his heart. He had never once refused to build a home for a family in need, even when it meant dipping into his own earnings to make it happen. And when they weren't feeding the hungry or housing the needy, they were gathering the town's orphans in their courtyard. telling them stories of Adam and Moses and Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The children would sit wide-eyed, hanging on to every word, never fully realizing that part of the reason Miriam and Nariah did this, besides their own goodness, was because they had no children of their own. It was in this home, at this table, that Elisha often found refuge, and tonight was no different. The warm glow of oil lamps flickered against the walls, casting golden light over the wooden table, which was set with roasted lamb, fresh bread and a fragrant lentil stew. The air was rich with the scent of spice and smoke, laughter mingling with the sound of plates being passed and wine being poured. Elisha sat at the table, his simple robes worn from travel undone. His ever-present air of quiet intensity softened in the presence of these two. Across from him sat Gehazi, his long-term servant, who, unlike his master, appreciated a well-made garment and had the expression of a man who fully intended to enjoy every bite of the meal before him. At the head of the table, Naraya leaned back in his chair, eyeing the prophet with a wry grin. 00:03:46 Speaker 3: I tell you, Prophet, you carry the scent of the road. Dust, sweat, perhaps a hint of donkey. 00:03:56 Speaker 2: Ah, the perfume of Yahweh's messengers. Perhaps one day he'll see fit to anoint me with something finer. Sandalwood, maybe, or crushed myrrh. 00:04:06 Speaker 4: Perhaps one day he'll see fit to give you a proper roof over your head. 00:04:11 Speaker 5: That's not a bad idea, you know. 00:04:13 Speaker 1: Elisha glanced up. as Miriam poured more wine into his cup. 00:04:18 Speaker 5: You pass through Shunem often enough. A man should have a place to rest. 00:04:24 Speaker 3: She's been hounding me about it for weeks, Prophet. Wants me to build you a room. 00:04:29 Speaker 1: Elisha raised a brow, setting his cup down. A room? 00:04:34 Speaker 2: A proper one. 00:04:37 Speaker 5: A place to sleep when you pass through. 00:04:38 Speaker 2: A bed, a lamp, a table. 00:04:41 Speaker 3: It'll be simple, but sturdy. 00:04:44 Speaker 2: That is more than generous. I could never ask that of you. 00:04:50 Speaker 5: Ask? 00:04:52 Speaker 3: Who said anything about asking? My wife has made up her mind. And once Miriam makes up her mind, there's no resisting. Think nothing of it. I'll have it done in two weeks, easy. 00:05:06 Speaker 1: Miriam smirked but said nothing, simply sipping her wine. 00:05:11 Speaker 2: Yes, master. 00:05:12 Speaker 4: Why fight it? We could use a place to sleep. It doesn't smell like camel. 00:05:18 Speaker 1: Elisha exhaled, shaking his head, but a rare, genuine smile flickered at the corner of his lips. 00:05:25 Speaker 2: Then I accept. 00:05:27 Speaker 1: Thank you. Miriam's eyes shone as she placed a hand over her husband's. The conversation moved on, and soon the room was filled again with laughter and stories. Miriam, as always, steered the conversation. asking about the places Elisha had been, the people he had met. She poured wine, cut bread, refilled bowls, making sure no one wanted for anything. Naraya, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, his presence steady, listening more than speaking, his enjoyment of the meal evident in the way he savoured every bite. Then, at a pause in the conversation, Miriam's tone shifted. 00:06:12 Speaker 5: There's been talk in the market, a story actually, of a widow, something about oil. They say you told her to gather all the jars she could find, that the Lord filled them to the brim, enough to pay her debts and save her sons from the creditors. 00:06:27 Speaker 1: Is it true? 00:06:29 Speaker 4: I told him it was madness, my lady. He was setting the poor woman up for a disappointment. 00:06:35 Speaker 2: You did, yes. And yet, here we are. 00:06:40 Speaker 4: The jars were filled. The widow was saved. 00:06:44 Speaker 2: And I looked like a fool. 00:06:46 Speaker 1: Naraya let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. The Lord provides. 00:06:54 Speaker 3: Yes, yes. 00:06:55 Speaker 4: It's quite inconvenient for my skepticism. 00:06:59 Speaker 1: Elisha reached for his cup, his voice casual. 00:07:03 Speaker 2: Since we're discussing provision, tell me, how have things been for you both? 00:07:08 Speaker 1: The couple exchanged a glance, a small one, Barely noticeable, but enough for Elisha to catch. 00:07:16 Speaker 2: We are well. 00:07:18 Speaker 1: Elisha waited. The silence stretched. The weight of unspoken words filling the space between them. Nariah cleared his throat, looking down at his plate. 00:07:31 Speaker 5: We. 00:07:33 Speaker 3: We have long prayed for a child. 00:07:38 Speaker 1: It was the first true crack in their composure. Miriam, normally so poised, so in control, let her fingers tighten just slightly around the stem of her cup. 00:07:50 Speaker 5: It is the only thing we lack. 00:07:53 Speaker 1: Then we shall pray together. The tension in the room shifted. Naraya nodded, his jaw tight. Miriam swallowed, something raw in her expression. And Gehazi, ever the practical one, simply leaned back in his chair. watching his master with something that might have been skepticism, or something deeper. Faith, perhaps, was a slow thing to grow, but even slow things in time bear fruit. Several weeks had passed, and the room Nariah built for Elisha had already become something of a sanctuary. It was nothing extravagant, Miriam wouldn't allow it, but it was well-crafted, sturdy, with smooth beams and a door that fit perfectly in its frame, the mark of a master builder. The small table and chair sat by the window, and the oil lamp flickered softly in the evening air. There was a bed, simple, but far better than the ground Elisha had grown accustomed to. Tonight, Elisha sat on that bed, absentmindedly rolling a small stone between his fingers. Lost in thought, Gehazi, standing near the table, poured himself a cup of water, watching his master with an expression that could have either been amusement or frustration. 00:09:22 Speaker 4: You're thinking again. 00:09:24 Speaker 1: Elisha glanced up, smirking. 00:09:27 Speaker 2: You disapprove? Only because I know what follows. 00:09:32 Speaker 4: You get that look in your eyes. The same one you had when you decided to leave a perfectly good farm and a perfectly wealthy family to go live in the wilderness with Elijah. 00:09:44 Speaker 1: Elijah chuckled softly. He set the stone down, stretching his legs out in front of him. 00:09:50 Speaker 2: You think too much like my father. 00:09:53 Speaker 1: Gehazi leaned against the table, crossing his arms. 00:09:57 Speaker 4: Your father was a practical man. 00:10:00 Speaker 2: Yes, he was. 00:10:02 Speaker 1: A pause. Elisha picked up the stone again, turning it over in his hands, feeling the weight of it. 00:10:10 Speaker 4: You know, your father, he thought I was wasting my time looking after you. Thought you were foolish for leaving. 00:10:19 Speaker 1: Elisha's smirk faltered slightly. I'll remember when you were a boy. 00:10:27 Speaker 4: You wanted so badly to run off, follow every wind, chase every whisper. Your father, he thought if he kept you working, kept you grounded, you'd forget about all that. You'd learn to be satisfied with the life given you. 00:10:44 Speaker 1: Elisha turned the stone over again, staring at it. 00:10:48 Speaker 4: But you didn't believe that. I knew better than to fight the inevitable. I just tried to keep you alive long enough to get there. 00:10:58 Speaker 1: They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of years resting between them. Then Elisha exhaled, shaking his head. 00:11:08 Speaker 2: Miriam and Uriah, they've given us so much. 00:11:12 Speaker 1: They have? 00:11:14 Speaker 2: I wish there was something I could do for them. 00:11:17 Speaker 1: Gehazi let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. 00:11:21 Speaker 2: Oh, I don't know, master. 00:11:24 Speaker 4: What could possibly be given to the most generous people in Shunem? They have wealth, land, respect. They lack for nothing. Well, almost nothing. 00:11:36 Speaker 1: Elisha's brow furrowed. 00:11:39 Speaker 2: What do you mean? 00:11:40 Speaker 4: A child is the only thing they don't have. You remember when they told us at dinner? Weeks ago. They've prayed for years. But some things, it seems, even God chooses not to give. 00:11:59 Speaker 1: Elisha's expression changed. His eyes brightened. He sat up straighter. 00:12:05 Speaker 2: That's it! 00:12:06 Speaker 1: Elisha lowered his head. A breath. A pause. His lips moved. Silent. 00:12:13 Speaker 3: Brief. 00:12:14 Speaker 1: Then, slowly... He lifted his face again, and he smiled, a small, knowing smile, the kind Gehazi had seen before, the kind that meant Yahweh had spoken. Elisha rose to his feet, his movement steady, assured. 00:12:34 Speaker 2: Come, Gehazi, we have a message to deliver. 00:12:39 Speaker 1: Miriam was needing bread when they found her. The smell of flour and honey lingered in the air, and Naraya sat nearby, carving something into a block of wood. A small horse, perhaps, though unfinished. When she saw Elisha and Gehazi approaching, she wiped her hands on her apron, tilting her head curiously. 00:13:01 Speaker 5: Prophet, what brings you out so late? 00:13:04 Speaker 2: My friends, the Lord has heard your prayers. 00:13:08 Speaker 1: Naraya glanced up, Miriam's hands stilled. 00:13:12 Speaker 2: By this time next year, you will hold a child in your arms. 00:13:19 Speaker 1: The words hung in the air, trembling with weight. Miriam stared at him. For the first time in all their knowing of her, she looked unsure. 00:13:30 Speaker 5: Please, Elisha, don't give me false hope. 00:13:34 Speaker 2: I only speak what Yahweh has given me to say. 00:13:37 Speaker 1: A breath, a moment... Then Miriam swallowed hard, nodding. Behind her, Naraya exhaled, setting down his carving. His hand found hers. They said nothing else. For the first time in a long time, their prayers no longer felt like they were drifting into an empty sky. The years passed. The prophecy had come true. Miriam and Naraya had born a son. A beautiful boy, the light of his parents' lives. Asa, named for healing, for restoration, for hope renewed. He grew up beneath Nariah's strong hands, learning how to hold a chisel, how to shape wood. He spent his mornings in Miriam's kitchen, sneaking bits of bread dough when he thought she wasn't looking. He had his father's laugh and his mother's eyes. Elisha saw him often. He was always running, always moving, always laughing. Miriam was never seen without him, her hand on his back, ruffling his hair, kissing his forehead. And Naraya, the man who had spent his life building homes for others, had finally felt he was building something of his own. The day had started like any other. The sun was high. Asa was running through the fields, his small feet kicking up dust, his laughter bright as he chased after the workers. Naraya, standing near the frame of a new house, turned at the sound of it, shaking his head with fondness. 00:15:20 Speaker 5: Then. 00:15:20 Speaker 4: Abba, my head, it hurts! 00:15:23 Speaker 1: It was small at first, a hand pressed to his temple, a slight wobble in his step. Then he staggered. Then he fell. By the time Naraya reached him, he was barely conscious. Asa? 00:15:40 Speaker 2: Asa, Asa, look, look at me! 00:15:42 Speaker 1: The boy whimpered. Naraya lifted him, cradling him in his arms, and strode toward the house, his voice calling for Miriam before he even reached the door. Inside, she took him, holding him against her, whispering prayers, rocking him as if she could will the life back into him. For hours, she sat there, For hours she begged, but as the sun reached its peak, Aesir's small chest rose one final time and did not rise again. Silence. The boy was gone. Nerea stood still, unmoving, his hands clenched so tightly they shook. Then, without a word, he turned and left the room. Miriam didn't see where he went, didn't see him collapse outside, pressing his fists to his eyes, shoulders shaking with silent, broken sobs. She only knew what she had to do. Carefully, reverently, she carried their son's body to Elisha's room. She laid him on the prophet's bed. Then she turned towards her husband, wiping the tears from her face. 00:16:59 Speaker 5: Send word for Elisha. 00:17:03 Speaker 1: Elisha had come as soon as he heard. The messenger arrived breathless, dust caked to his feet, his words tumbling out between gasps. Asa has died. Miriam had laid him in Elisha's room. She and Nariah waited in silence, grief a black, leaden weight over their house. Elisha and Gehazi had left immediately, no hesitation, no wasted words. The journey to Shunem was a blur of sun-scorched roads and pounding hearts. Gehazi ran ahead, the urgency pressing on him, while Elisha walked with the slow, deliberate steps of a man carrying something unseen but unbearably heavy. He had heard a story like this once, when he was younger, during his first year as Elijah's apprentice. His master had told him about a woman in Zarephath, a widow whose son had died in her arms. I laid the lad on the bed. I stretched myself over him and cried out to the Lord. 00:18:12 Speaker 3: And he answered. 00:18:15 Speaker 1: Elisha had listened, fascinated. Now as he stepped into the quiet, heavy air of Nariah and Miriam's home, the echoes of that tale rang in his mind. But they felt distant, like something that had happened in another world, to another man. This was now. This was real. Elisha entered first. The small room, so carefully built, so freely given, felt different now. The light from the single window was pale, muted. The air was thick with silence. And there, on the prophet's bed, lay Asa. Small. Still. Gone. Miriam stood near the door, her arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to hold in everything that threatened to spill out. Noriah stood beside her, his hands clenched at his sides, the grief barely held at bay beneath the tension in his jaw. Elisha barely had time to turn toward them before Miriam's voice cut through the silence, raw and shaking. 00:19:25 Speaker 2: Why did you come? 00:19:27 Speaker 1: Elisha froze. Her eyes were red-rimmed, wild with grief. She took a step forward, her breath unsteady. 00:19:36 Speaker 5: I told you not to give me false hope. 00:19:39 Speaker 2: I told you. I didn't ask for a son. 00:19:42 Speaker 5: I didn't ask for any of it. I would rather have been barren forever than feel this. Why? 00:19:49 Speaker 4: Why? 00:19:50 Speaker 1: Why would God do this? Why would he give only to take? Her voice cracked. Elisha let the words hit him, let the weight of them settle. He could have rebuked her. He could have told her to have faith. But what did words mean in the face of this? Instead, he stepped forward, slowly, gently, and he placed his hand over hers. 00:20:18 Speaker 2: I don't know. 00:20:20 Speaker 1: Miriam inhaled sharply, as if bracing for a second blow. 00:20:25 Speaker 2: I don't know why God does what he does. I don't know why he allows grief to take root where joy once bloomed. 00:20:32 Speaker 1: Her breath hitched. 00:20:34 Speaker 2: But I do know that he sees you. He sees this. 00:20:39 Speaker 1: His hand, warm and firm, stayed over hers. 00:20:44 Speaker 2: And I know he's not done yet. 00:20:47 Speaker 1: Miriam's lips trembled. Her body, once taut with rage, sagged. The fight in her was slipping away. Not because she no longer felt it, but because she had no more strength to wield it. Elisha squeezed her hand once before stepping past her. toward the boy. Elisha reached the bed and placed a hand on Asa's forehead. This was a moment where faith had to be more than words, a moment where trust had to be something lived. Elisha exhaled, and then he did as Elijah had done. He stretched himself over the boy, hands to hands, eyes to eyes, mouth to mouth. A prayer tore from his lips, rough, raw, desperate. 00:21:40 Speaker 2: Lord, let his life return. 00:21:43 Speaker 3: Nothing. 00:21:44 Speaker 1: He tried again. 00:21:46 Speaker 2: Yahweh, hear me! 00:21:49 Speaker 1: The boy's body remained still. Elisha sat back, exhaling sharply, his heart pounding. He closed his eyes. This wasn't working. He had done what Elijah had done, and yet... his mind flickered back to something Elijah had said once. It isn't the words, Elisha. It isn't the method. It is the one who moves. Elisha exhaled, and he leaned down again, not as a man mimicking another, but as a man surrendering to something far greater than himself. He prayed, and this time it wasn't desperate. It was trust. Then, a shudder, a gasp. Asa's body convulsed beneath him and suddenly he was coughing, breath spilling back into his lungs like water bursting through a cracked dam. His eyes shot open, wide, confused, alive. Elisha pulled back, breathing hard, his own chest rising and falling with disbelief and awe. Elisha turned, eyes locking with Miriam's. For a long moment, she didn't move. Then she let out a sound, something between a sob and a laugh, and suddenly she was across the room, her arms wrapping around Asa, pulling him close, her hands tangling in his hair, her tears hot against his skin. Elisha stood back, watching, his heart pounding, his body light. This is... This was Yahweh's work. This was grace. Miriam, still holding her son, turned her tear-streaked face toward him. Her lips parted, but no words came. Elisha only nodded and departed. Steve Gatina, Max Bard, Zach Schelleberger and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of The Chosen People, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia Zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr., Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Lashinsky. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato, Brie Rosely and Chris Baig. You can hear more Prey.com productions on the Prey.com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed The Chosen People, please rate and leave a review.