From the outside it looked like I had it all together.
Wealthy, successful, happily-married – I was respected, even admired, by everyone around me. They all knew of the victories the Aramean army had won under my leadership, of how I was hailed as a “mighty warrior”. I had worked hard, and now I was reaping the rewards. Second in command only to the king, I was proud of all I had achieved.
But what no-one outside my household knew was that I was getting sick. The scabs and patches appearing on my skin were the tell-tale signs of leprosy. They were multiplying and spreading, and I knew there was no cure.
The thought of what lay ahead terrified me – not only the physical suffering, but people’s reactions when they found out.
Instead of being admired and applauded, I would be avoided – branded unclean.
Instead of being viewed as successful, I would be seen as… broken.