He was carried from his birthplace wrapped in a baby blanket. He returned a man, walking with long strides on the street near where he was born. Surrounded by his large following, he sensed from the onlookers an unknown emotion–it was misery. The foreigners were easily noticed. Word swiftly passed. It was an invasion by an unarmed band. The authorities checked them out and judged them safe. They were wrong.
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness and into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God. (1 Peter 2:9-10a NIV)
The earlier long-anticipated father-son talk had been the missing piece. Mother had joined the two and shared her stories. She gave her adopted son treasured memories of his real parents, the people they were and the palace they called home.
His adopted mother and father were the second and third witnesses to his destiny. The first came as a prophecy a week before. It happened while walking the road alone. When he came upon a stranger, he greeted him. The man replied to him by calling his name. Sitting on a log, the stranger continued, “Shortly the whole truth will be revealed. You will return to the place from where you came. Until then, learn all you can and teach it to all who follow. You will free from bondage and bring justice to the people. You will be the example. Others will watch and do the same. When you see me next, it will be time.” Then he got up, walked into the woods and vanished.
That day, as his parents spoke words they had stored for so long in their hearts, he detected the stranger’s voice blending with theirs, as if they were a trio. The only mother he had ever known lovingly put her hands on his shoulders. “Victor,” she said. “Victor Emanuel Leonidas Salvador.” That is your whole name. You will need to remember it when asked by those who loved your father.”
God’s plan was confirmed. The group around the young man steadily grew in maturity and in number. At their favorite spot, Victor’s inner circle learned everything he knew. They took a sacred an oath. If they broke faith, they would bear the curse of the broken-winged bird.
As they concluded the chorus of their song, the light from the campfire dimmed then grew bright. Then Victor laid eyes on the stranger of the woods. He had somehow joined them. To his kind acknowledgment, the man nodded and said, “There’s a ship waiting.” He continued, “Tell the captain to take you to the island. It’s your first stop. Make haste. You will have no time to sleep. Say good-by to your family. Make a small bundle with a jar of water and some bread for the journey. If others hear of your venture and wish to join you, then welcome them, but only if they pledge loyalty to King Victor–even to the death. Meet here at first light.” As quickly as it brightened, the fire died leaving lit torches to light their path.
“You heard him,” Victor said. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk of this later. Back at first light. Let’s go!” With that they were off. They would not see the mysterious man again until all seemed lost.
Next Part 3, “Repulsed”