A physician and a writer, that’s me. And what combination could be more fitting? For who writes, except to heal the souls of men? And what more worthy recipient of my writing than dear Theophilus, the lover of God who taught me never to stop at the surface but to dig deeper and find the truth of what really is, the art of questioning to elicit the deeper reality?
That’s why, for my first book, I interviewed Mary and learned from her the details of Jesus’ infancy that His disciples could not tell me. It’s why I travelled with Paul, observing for myself at first hand and recording for future generations how Jesus continued to live among us and work His wonders, even when we could no longer see Him. It shows, I trust, how He will do so long after those who, in dear John’s words, saw with their eyes, heard, looked intently, touched and held Him, are no longer here to tell their story.
For He lives on, not merely with but in us, and somehow our hands become His, and through us He works His wonders still.