Disclaimer: Biblical fiction is based on actual events, but elements have been added to enhance storytelling. For the accounts this story is based on, please refer to Matthew 17:14-20; Mark 9:14-29; Luke 9:37-43.

There's a pool in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate, called Bethesda in Aramaic, that has five covered porches. Under these lay a many diseased — blind, lame, paralyzed — waiting for the waters to move. An angel of the Lord would go down into the pool at certain seasons and stir the waters, then whoever was the first to step in after the waters were stirred was healed of whatever disease he had.    

– John 5:2-4

Demon possession, madness, the crazies – whatever you want to call it – runs in my family, but it’s different in all of us. But the common theme is regular torment with no lasting peace. 

My nephew suffers terribly. Hadriel must be about ten years old now. He’s seleniazomai, moonstruck by an evil spirit. Been like that all his life. Even as a toddler, the demon would seize him and throw him to the ground. Limbs would shake uncontrollably as his body contorted in unnatural positions. Teeth grinding, foaming at the mouth. Sometimes he’d turn blue from lack of air. Then it’d all be over as quickly as it started, and he’d be left lifeless on the ground. Slowly he’d regain consciousness, crying from the pain of whatever injuries he’d sustained during his fit, with no recollection of how he’d gotten them. These episodes could happen at any time. We first thought they were timed with the moon, as the physicians did, but we couldn’t find any correlation. They were completely unpredictable. 

And dangerous.

Childhood burns are horrible. The pain of scorched skin tortures children for weeks until it heals. On top of that, the scarring from the flames mutilates the skin, but with open firepits in every home, burns are all too common. Toddlers learning to walk inevitably stumble into anthrakia, charcoal fires, when their mothers’ backs are turned. Nearly every home has been affected in one way or another, although most of the injuries heal without too much damage.

Hadriel wasn’t so lucky. Often, the demon threw him into fires that would have killed him if his parents hadn’t frantically dragged him out of the coals, his skin melted off. Other times he’d be thrown into water to drown him. He’d twist and contort and splash until his father dove in to pull him out, gasping and sputtering for breath. Once, Hadriel nearly fell down a well. I was standing next to him when it happened and managed to grab his ankle just as he tumbled headfirst down the hole. We dragged him out and away while he was still shaking.

After years of possession, the poor boy learned to recognize when he was going to be moonstruck. He’d feel it coming, then get real still and scared. 

“Dad… it’s happening.” 

His eyes were heartbreaking in those moments, before the storm hit. But sure enough, a moment later, Hadriel would be seized and thrown to the ground. We all wanted to help him so badly, but he seemed beyond saving.

Honestly, I’m not sure how Hadriel has survived until now. The demon has tried to kill him so many times, but each time someone has been able to drag him away from the clutches of death. And yet, he hasn’t been left unharmed. 

Hadriel is terribly scarred. Those who see him for the first time instantly cringe. Half the boy’s face has been burned in fires. There are even bald patches on his scalp covered by rough swaths of rippled skin. His left ear is half gone, while his right eye is shrouded in scar – he can’t open it all the way. His upper arm, broken years before, never healed right and is permanently crooked. Both of his legs are straight, but they’re withered in gnarly scars. The boy looks like he’s been through hell. 

Hadriel’s voice alone has remained unscathed. Despite his damaged appearance, when he speaks, it’s like golden sunshine on your face. He can’t fully articulate the words because of two broken teeth, but nonetheless he sings like a choir of angels would sound. His parents proudly make him stand up to sing after dinner. They’ve been heartbroken so often, yet they still cherish their son. We all weep as his beautiful voice fills the room. When Hadriel lets fly his unbroken boyish voice, no eye remains dry. The contrast between his appearance and his voice is enough to melt the hardest heart. 

Yet despite our many prayers and sacrifices to God, Hadriel remains possessed. He’s moonstruck at least weekly. It’s only a matter of time before it kills him.

*     *    *

When I was healed by Jesus, I returned home a new man. Some believed my story, many didn’t. But nothing could stop me from telling everyone how God had mercy on me. I was especially preachy to my brother.

My poor older brother. He’s been suffering through the pain Hadriel has endured. There were so many times he got his hopes up, only to have them dashed with his son’s next possession. 

But I persisted. “He can heal him! Brother! Believe me! If he can heal me, he can heal Hadriel!”

Eventually, late in the summer, a year after my return from the graves, he agreed. We set out, just the three of us – my brother, Hadriel, and me. We found Jesus way up north, near Caesarea Philippi. Actually, we found Jesus’ disciples first. “Sorry, Jesus isn’t here,” they said. 

My brother flipped out. “We came all this way to be healed, and now you tell us he’s busy?!”

The strain of the last decade had pushed him to the breaking point. With Jesus occupied up the mountain, they tried for hours (at my brother’s insistence) to heal Hadriel themselves. But they failed. Nothing changed. 

Then Jesus arrived, walking down the mountain toward us. It was daytime, but I swear he was glowing. Who on earth had you met up there? My desperate brother, cracking under the pressure of his son’s hopeless situation, ran up to Jesus and fell before him.

“Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, because he’s my one and only! Lord, have mercy on him! I brought him to you because he’s moonstruck and very sick, possessed with a spirit that makes him speechless. Whenever it seizes him, he suddenly screams and it throws him into convulsions, then he foams and grinds his teeth and withers away. Only with exertion does it leave him, crushing him as it goes. I told your disciples to throw it out, but they couldn’t!”

“Bring your son to me,” he said.

However, as we all turned to face Hadriel, we saw his face. He was staring straight ahead. Scared. It was happening again. “Dad…” he whimpered.

“Quick! Hold his head!”

But it was too late, we couldn’t reach him in time. The spirit seized him, stiff as a board, and he fell straight back, slamming his head on the hard dirt. First his right arm started shaking, then his right leg too. Then his whole body was convulsing, greater than ever before. 

My brother ran over and cradled his son’s head in his lap. Hadriel gasped for breath through clenched teeth. Bloody drool foamed out of his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue again. Limbs contorted. The strain in his little body was enormous. 

Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, he laid still. Unconscious. Blood and spit soaked his chin and chest. His father fished a broken tooth from his cheek.

Jesus spoke. “How long has this been happening to him?”

With tears streaming down his face, my brother replied, “Since childhood. It has often thrown him into both fire and water to kill him. But if you can do anything, please, be moved and help!”

“‘If you can’? Everything’s possible to him who believes.”

My brother burst into tears. It was simply too much to bear. The pain of watching his son suffer for so long finally broke him. “I do believe! Help my unbelief!”

A crowd had formed around us, shocked at the scene they’d just witnessed. Then Jesus – the powerful one – spoke. “You deaf and mute spirit, I command you to come out of him and don’t enter him again!”

I’d like to say that was when Hadriel was finally healed, but he was instantly moonstruck again. The last time was the worst I’d ever seen, but this surpassed it.

The possession was violent. Limbs thrashed so forcefully that we heard his bones snapping beneath his skin. Blood and drool poured out of his mouth. Repeatedly he was lifted off the ground and slammed back down to earth. My brother couldn’t control Hadriel’s head no matter how hard he tried – it just seemed to make things worse. So he let go. Hadriel’s lips turned blue, then his face. Soon his whole body was the color of the sky at dusk. The minutes dragged on. Faces in the crowd turned away at the terrible sight of this disfigured boy being viciously killed before us.

And then, abruptly, it ended. Hadriel lay there unmoving, not breathing. His skin was purple and grey. Blood was everywhere. Arms and legs twisted unnaturally beneath him.

My brother, who had long expected this very thing to one day occur, hesitantly reached out and put a hand on his son’s lifeless face. It was over. The crowd began murmuring that he was dead. I couldn’t believe it. Jesus, you healed me but couldn’t heal my poor nephew?! I looked at his face and saw him smile.

Jesus stepped over to Hadriel. He reached down and took hold of his limp hand. In one fluid motion, he pulled him upward. I nearly yelled at him. Leave the boy alone! Haven’t you failed us enough?! But the extraordinary happened.

Hadriel landed on his feet! The once-deformed skin over his legs was now as smooth as the day he was born! Arms straight and strong! No trace of a scar anywhere on his face! Eyes bright and wide! Mouth full of unbroken, smiling teeth! A full head of curly brown hair flowing in the gentle breeze! My nephew was alive and well! I barely recognized him! Gone was the tortured, scarred boy I knew. Here, before us, was a healthy young man! And his voice – his glorious voice! – was laughing.

“Dad! I’m all better!”

My brother was in shock, collapsed on the ground as he looked up at his son. Healed! The tears exploded out of him afresh. Out of us all. Both my brother and I fell on Hadriel’s neck, nearly squeezing the new life out of him. Healed! Hygainos, healthy! 

Hadriel broke out into song. It was as if the skies parted and angels rejoiced with us. Tears filled every eye as his song filled every heart. The power and glory of God was witnessed by everyone there. I’d never been so overwhelmed in my life. 

*     *    *

I’ll never stop telling about how Jesus saved me, how God had mercy on me and my family. My brother is the same way, but even more so! Between the two of us, we drive our neighbors nuts.

I’m okay with that.

The demons know all about Jesus. They know, and they tremble. He threw them out of me, then he threw them out of Hadriel. Jesus will throw them out of many more before he’s finished. My whole family… no… my whole town now believes in Jesus. The Son of God, who commands spirits with a word. The Savior of the world.