After traveling through Samaria, Jesus and His disciples arrived in Galilee, in the city of Cana. This was the same city where He had turned water into wine at a wedding some time earlier. Soon after coming into the city, He was approached by a nobleman.
“Master! Master!” he called.
“I heard you were coming back from Judea! My son is sick, almost dead. Please come with me to my home in Capernaum!”
“Unless you see signs and wonders, you won’t believe in anything.” The nobleman grabbed the Master’s arm.
“Please, sir,” he pleaded, desperation in his tired eyes.
“Please come, or my child will die.”
“Go home,” said Jesus with compassion, placing His hand on the nobleman’s trembling shoulder.
“Your son lives.”
“Thank you, Master! Thank you, thank you!” said the nobleman. He immediately turned and hurried on his day-long walk to Capernaum. The next day the nobleman was close to Capernaum when a few of his servants met him on the road.
“Sir, your son is alive!” cried one.
“His sickness has left him!” said the other.
“He is? When did his fever break?” said the nobleman with relief.
“It was yesterday, at the seventh hour,” the first reported.
The nobleman smiled and was filled with peace. Yesterday, at the seventh hour, he had been told by Jesus that his son would live. He knew that his son had been healed by the Master.