Free Book Excerpts

Cleverly woven through dramatization and characters-turned-storytellers, gripping stories of Jesus Christ’s lineage span thirty generations of Old Testament History, unveiling God’s secrets and revealing mankind’s purpose.

Excerpt

Prologue

“Your mother looks serene, doesn’t she?” commented Isaac’s father with a sob, as he tenderly pushed a strand of long gray hair back from his wife’s face.
Isaac touched her cheek and shuddered.
Her skin was soft, yet had the stiffness of death underneath. “She looks so peaceful,” Isaac observed. “It feels like she could wake at any moment.” A raging tide of grief flooded him and before he erupted into unmanly tears, Isaac escaped his mother’s tent. “I’ll be back later,” he announced over his shoulder.
Feeling very alone, Isaac fled into the desert.

Rebecca’s head throbbed and she pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out what she wanted to say.
“Be quiet! Stop talking!”
But it wasn’t in her to speak the unkind words she was thinking. Meanwhile Lichel, the petite young woman beside Rebecca, who half-ran, half-walked to keep up with Rebecca’s long-legged pace continued her monologue, oblivious to her friend’s frustration.
Lichel’s high-pitched voice droned on about the latest in a line of suitors, “…So, then he looked at me, and….”
Rebecca lengthened her stride.
Her companion stopped her incessant flow of words long enough to complain. “Hey, I can’t keep up!” When Rebecca didn’t slow down, she pleaded, “Please, I can’t walk as fast as you.” Rebecca slackened her pace and Lichel broke up her self-involved spate of words again to ask for an opinion. “Do you suppose he thinks I’m pretty?”
Amused in spite of herself, Rebecca burst out laughing and asked, “Lichel, are you serious? This month alone, fathers of two very eligible bachelors in Haran have approached your parents to marry you. That isn’t including those in the last six months that they turned down. They don’t think anyone is good enough for you.”
Exchanging a sideways glance with Lichel, she asked, “Now, tell me. How would you like me to answer your question?”
When Lichel giggled, Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. The girl had an infectious laugh, and her lively dark eyes sparkled from under the drab cloth that concealed her hair. Rebecca had tolerated Lichel’s self-centered monologues for as far back as she could remember. Their mothers were best friends so it was natural their daughters were lumped together growing up.
Rebecca felt guilty for resenting Lichel.
If she was completely honest about it, her anger might just include a tinge of jealousy. The other girl was much more attractive and charming than she was. Rebecca resolved to be more patient, kinder.
She shifted the heavy clay jar on her shoulder and turned her head to speak pleasantly to Lichel, but something caught her eye. Strangers were lounging under shade trees between the spring’s entrance and the main road.
Judging by the camels resting on their haunches, and the way some of the men were slumped wearily against them, she guessed they had traveled far. A tall man, roasted almost black by the sun, stood watching the spring almost as if he was expecting someone.
For some reason, she felt strangely drawn to him.
“Excuse me,” Rebecca murmured. Leaving Lichel staring after her open-mouthed, Rebecca hurried toward the stranger, but stopped first to fill her jar from the well.
“Sir, please take a drink.” Rebecca held the heavy jar in her strong but small hands, and positioned it to lean towards the man. As he nodded his thanks and reached for the jug, she noted his dignified bearing and the long tapered fingers that circled the carafe as he drank deeply. Satisfied that he was done, she accepted the container back and asked, “I’ll also draw water for your camels until they’ve finished drinking.”
The stranger nodded and motioned his men to bring the camels.
Rebecca emptied what water she had left into the water troughs for the thirsty camels. Then she shifted the heavy jar back to her sturdy shoulder to retrieve more from the spring.
As Rebecca maneuvered the path, Lichel dragged her by the arm into the privacy of a nearby thicket. “What’s going on? Who are those men? Why did you leave so quickly to go to them?”
“I don’t know who they are,” Rebecca answered defensively, feeling attacked by Lichel’s barrage of questions. “I don’t even know why I felt so compelled to go to them.” She jerked her arm away from the other girl’s rigid grip. “You’re hurting me!”
“I’m sorry,” Lichel replied, dropping her hand, immediately contrite. “It’s just that you’re acting different than usual. You’ve never approached a man like that before by yourself. Normally, you would have asked me to go with you.” She tripped over her words trying to get them out. “I mean, you’re always inviting strangers to your house for meals, but not alone – oh, you know what I mean.”
Rebecca thought for a moment.
It was true. Lichel was right; she was predictable.
“I don’t know what came over me, but I promise I won’t do that again. Okay?”
Somewhat placated, Lichel reluctantly answered, “Yes, I guess.”
Rebecca chose that moment to escape.
Flashing her a grin, she left Lichel to finish retrieving water, and then returned to the caravan. When the stranger spoke to her again once he saw she was back, Rebecca noticed his voice had a refined quality to it.
“Whose daughter are you?” he asked casually.
She looked up shyly and answered him, “Sir, I am Rebecca, Bethuel’s daughter.”
At the questioning look in his eyes, she explained, “Bethuel is Nahor’s son.”
Trying to resist pushing her inquisitive nose where it didn’t belong, Rebecca kept her eyes down and refrained from asking any questions. She felt like a mother bird doling out nourishment to her young, as she busied herself once again pouring water for the camels. Rebecca glanced over through her eyelashes at the visitor, who was now busy removing something from under the heavy ropes that bound packs to the animals.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, almost dropping the jar. After wiping a glob of spit from her face flung by one of the camels, she then dodged to avoid another’s hooves as it shifted position.
Moving to stand in front of her, the stranger held up shiny objects that glinted in the sunlight. Rebecca fought to mask her excitement as he laid three golden bracelets in her palm. She closed her slim calloused fingers around their smooth surfaces, and examined them.
“Are these for me?” Rebecca looked up and asked warily. No one she knew had ever given such expensive presents.
“Yes, they are,” he answered her, his expression grave.
A sudden alarming thought jolted her back to reality.
Flushing red with embarrassment, she chided herself at having been so immature and accepting. She jutted out her chin, lifted her head proudly, and told him, “I can’t accept these. The water for your men was a kindness, not for pay.”
“Ah. I understand,” the stranger commented simply. And then he asked, “Is there room to stay in your home?
“We have plenty of straw and feed, as well as plenty of room for you to stay with us.” She pointed toward a small hill and hesitated, waiting. “If you would like to follow me, my family lives just over that rise.”
“Mistress,” he told her gently, “these gifts for you are for reasons other than your thoughtfulness. Would you please accept them?” he implored – his brown eyes warm and kind.
She melted.
“Yes,” Rebecca answered, before turning to lead him over the hill and across the field toward her father’s house. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw him signal his men to follow.
She wove through a herd of sheep as they bleated loudly, displaying their annoyance with her. Glancing back, she reassured herself the man was still following closely behind. As Rebecca reached the familiar cluster of one and two-story whitewashed buildings, smells of roasted meat made her mouth water.
When Rebecca reached the edge of the clearing near her home, she turned to her guest and announced, “You’ll have to wait here. Someone will be with you shortly.”
When he acknowledged her instructions with another nod of his head, she whirled back around and raced for the house. Rebecca pushed through the wooden gate and charged into the open courtyard.
“Rebecca,” called Laban, waving at her with a piece of meat in his hand, and grinning. As pungent smoke billowed upward, she smiled as he turned back to flirt with the girl smiling at him saucily over her grill.
“Laban and his way with women!” she muttered.
With her cheeks warm and heart beating rapidly, Rebecca climbed the narrow stairway to her family’s main second-story room. She burst in on her mother, who sat on a sheepskin floor mat with her back against a wall, totally engrossed in her sewing. “A man leading a caravan stopped for water and needs a place to stay,” she announced. “He brought gifts. Look!”
When her mother didn’t respond, Rebecca crossed the room and held out her arm to show off the delicate bands on her wrist.
“Who is he?” Her mother frowned at the hand under her nose and looked up. “Wait a moment.” After she finished tying off end pieces, she turned back to Rebecca and repeated a little impatiently, “Who is he and how many people are with him?”
“One,” Rebecca guessed and then noticed an extra place had already been set on the low square table. “I don’t know how many more there are. There’s a caravan of men.” Rebecca reached for an extra cushion mat from a pile against the wall and caught the twinkle in her mother’s eyes. “You already knew about him, didn’t you?”
Her mother smiled and stood up, tucking a stray hair under her head covering. “Of course.”
Rebecca tilted her head and asked, “How?” She never quite understood how her mother always stayed one step ahead of her.
“I heard there was another caravan in at the spring from the servants,” she answered, and walked over to gather Rebecca into her arms. “My kindhearted daughter never misses an opportunity to reach out to strangers, does she?”
Rebecca nuzzled against her mother’s neck, enjoying the softness of her skin. Then she pulled away so she could see Milcah’s face. “His expression changed when I told him who I was. He became excited and agitated. Mother!” she exclaimed. “He’s out there waiting for me!”
She stopped talking and noticed her brother Laban standing just inside the entrance.
“Rebecca, you have invited someone with little or no warning, again. Now, I’ll have to gather enough hay and straw to accommodate an entire caravan!” Laban complained. His brown eyes narrowed and by how his lips were moving, Rebecca figured he was counting how much money it would cost him.
“Look at these, Laban!” The bracelets jangled charmingly against each other as she held her arm out for his inspection. “He brought gifts!”
Laban’s worried expression fled as he fingered the small circles. “He brought gifts. Hmm.” Then he asked, “You won’t mind if I go look to his needs, will you?”
Without waiting for an answer, Laban charged out the door looking for their benevolent guest. Rebecca looked at her mother and they both laughed, fully aware of Laban’s weakness for money
By the time the meal was ready, Laban had returned. Bethuel followed close behind, and lastly, the stranger she had talked to at the spring. Laban’s eyes were alight with excitement as he moved briskly from the curtained doorway to a seat beside Bethuel. The visitor stood in the dim light waiting for his eyes to adjust after the bright sun.
“Come, come… join us. We’re expecting you!” Laban burst out heartily, motioning with ringed fingers for the stranger to drop to the cushion beside him on the cold stone floor.
Rebecca peeked out from behind the dark curtain separating her bedroom from the main room. She gripped the soft material, carefully keeping herself hidden.
The so-far unnamed stranger’s eyes were serious and somber in his dark face. Something told Rebecca this visit had something to do with her, and right then, she felt very alone and afraid.
“No, I am sorry. I cannot eat until you have heard why I have come,” the man insisted. He examined his elegant hands and waited.
“Yes, tell us,” replied Laban, while beside him Rebecca’s mother stood nodding her agreement.
Rebecca watched nervously as her mother’s dark eyes darted from face-to-face like a bird looking for somewhere to land. The way she held a sheepskin flask of watered down wine over an earthenware cup, and then put the container down without pouring anything was disconcerting also.
Why was her mother worried?
“My name is Eliezer and I am the head servant of my Master Abraham’s Household.
“God blessed Master Abraham, making him a very rich man. He has also blessed him in his old age, with a son, who will inherit all he has.” The man paused to include them all with a look, and then continued speaking slowly. “I believe that God sent His angel ahead of me as my Master asked Him to, because he wanted me to find a wife for his son Isaac.”
When Bethuel gave Laban a knowing look, Rebecca clenched and unclenched her hands. She had felt things were going to change, and she was right.
“Some time ago, my Master took me aside and asked me to take an oath. He asked me to travel to his family to find a wife for Isaac. On the way, I prayed that God would direct the right girl toward me. I thought that if she offered us water, and then invited us to stay with her family, it would be easier to find her. This is exactly what happened with Rebecca.” He paused to take a sip of water her mother had handed him. “Now that I have found the girl, I need to bring her back with me – with your permission. Whatever you decide is up to you. I believe the road that led me here was the right one, and that your daughter is God’s choice to be Isaac’s wife.”
Bethuel threw up his hands and looked over at Laban, who shrugged. “Since this appears to be from the Lord, who are we to argue? It’s up to Rebecca to decide. I see nothing to do, but let her marry this man as the Lord has directed.”
Bethuel signaled her mother, who called for Rebecca to come. “Rebecca, come here.”
Her mother moved to the curtain and drew her out from behind it to stand in front of Eliezer.
“These are gifts for her.” Eliezer unwrapped an exquisitely embroidered green tunic with matching robe and held it up. “Rebecca, these are from Master Abraham, along with a number of other gifts.”
Rebecca bit her lip to keep her excitement under control. Demurely, she reached for them. “These are very nice.” Then she looked toward her mother and asked, “Shall I try them on, Mother?”
“Yes, of course,” her mother exclaimed.
Rebecca slipped out to change and discovered to her delight that the ensemble fit perfectly. She almost flew back into the room, delighted with the elegant feel of the material against her arms.
“Do you like it?”
Her mother’s dark eyes sparkled as she smiled approvingly.
Eventually, tired out from all the commotion, Rebecca went to her room. Wrapped in her new clothes, she curled into a ball on her bed. She felt her eyelids drooping and smiled sleepily as sleep quickly claimed her.
She murmured something and struggled, as she dreamed of a man who stood far off in the distance obscured by a haze. He drew closer to her but she couldn’t make out his face. The dream was so vivid that it seemed as though she could walk forward and touch him.
She tried to but her feet were stuck to the ground.
“Hello!” Rebecca cried. “Hello!” she yelled louder.
His face was still a blur through the mist, but she could make out his hair. It was black and curly.
“Who are you?” she tried again, but still no answer came.
“Rebecca!” Her father tried to shake her awake as she frowned and resisted him, preferring to remain in her dream. She wanted to find out who the stranger was, and why he wouldn’t answer her.
“Rebecca!” Her mother’s stern voice broke through the fog around Rebecca. As she woke, the feel of the material against her skin reminded her that very real circumstances had inspired her dream.
Her parents stared down at her. Bethuel had an odd look in his eyes, and a frown creased his forehead. His pursed lips indicated thought, as if he was considering an important decision.
“Mother, is everything all right?” Rebecca asked, wondering what was going on. It was still dark. “Why didn’t you let me sleep until morning?” she asked groggily.
Her mother cleared her throat, which she only did when uncertain. Nervous anticipation had Rebecca biting her lip.
“There’s no time,” Bethuel replied. “You have to get up.”
“No time for what?” Confusion and doubt obscured the pleasure she had felt over the clothes and gifts. She didn’t like it.
“Rebecca. Can’t you see this is the Lord’s doing?” her mother asked.
“What are you talking about?” Rebecca shook her head to clear the cobwebs from her mind. “Yes, I know you’re talking about yesterday and I do think God sent our guest. What do you mean there isn’t time? The man just got here.”
Mother elaborated, “You’re being asked to leave now, this morning. There is to be no delay and you have to decide immediately.”
Rebecca swallowed a sob and asked in a choked voice, “What about my wedding? Why can’t I remain a few days to prepare? To spend more time with you, Father, and Laban?”
“We’ll understand whatever you decide you should do. Come now.” Mother stretched out her hand to smooth Rebecca’s hair. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over warm and wet on her checks as she stored away the feel of her mother’s touch. “The men are outside waiting for your decision. Dry your eyes; wash up. Come out – quickly.”
Rebecca started to argue, but closed her mouth as her parents kissed her and left the room. Where was God in this?
She wasn’t prepared to leave with so little warning, and she had so many misgivings! What could she do about Lichel? How would Lichel react? Would she feel abandoned? Rebecca was willing to go, but it was so far away.
Rebecca looked around the room. Her first doll sat in the corner, along with the first clay pot she had ever made. She touched the soft covers and remembered the love Mother had put into sewing them.
With a start, Rebecca threw off her blanket and jumped up. She was falling back to sleep and her father would get angry if she embarrassed him by dawdling further.
A short time later, with her face shiny from a good scrubbing, and her composure intact, Rebecca dragged herself onto the roof. With her chin jutted out and head held high, she forced herself to stare straight into the stranger’s eyes.
He, Bethuel, and Laban stopped eating to stare at her.
Bethuel guzzled some wine to wash the food in his mouth down, and then he asked, “Rebecca, are you willing to leave here with this man? Now?”
“Father, I am.” She squeezed her hands together. “My things?”
“I have packed them anticipating you would go,” Bethuel replied. At her surprised expression, with an indulgent smile he added fondly, “I know you, Rebecca. You’re your mother’s daughter, and you don’t ever turn down a challenge, especially one as exciting as this.”
After what seemed like only seconds, but was in reality a couple of hours, Rebecca was saying rushed good-byes to her family. There was no time for any other farewells.
A servant lifted her up onto a camel, and through a mist of tears, Rebecca said her farewells. Her heart was heavy with the knowledge she might never see her parents again.
“But what about Lichel?” Rebecca felt torn in two as she left all she had ever known. “Tell her good-bye for me! Make her understand how much I wanted to see her before I left – and couldn’t. Please?” Tears coursed down her cheeks as her mother reached up to hold her hand for what Rebecca was afraid might be the last time.
“Don’t worry, dear, I will. Good-bye Rebecca…” were the final words she heard over the clopping of camels’ hooves against the sand. Rebecca’s last glimpse of her brother and parents’ faces remained indelibly in her memory. How she longed for a way to transfer their images to something she could see and hold!

Rebecca’s first few days traveling were the most difficult. Having never gone far from home, she was unprepared for the unexpected waves of homesickness that often washed over her. She sometimes even missed Lichel’s monologues.
The second day after leaving home, bustling servants preparing to move camp woke Rebecca early from a restless sleep. As she lay on her sheepskin pallets in the semi-darkness that came just before dawn, she listened to the camels snorting and shuffling outside her tent, eager to be moving.
Rebecca’s tumultuous emotions made her sick to her stomach and she fought to keep from being sick. Though she had seen God’s hand in this enough to come, her faith was wavering. What if she and everyone else in her life had guessed wrong – and God hadn’t sent Eliezer.
Rebecca reluctantly pulled herself up from bed. With the help of her maidservant, she dressed, brushed out her long dark tresses, and then covered them primly with a headpiece. Rebecca felt the sun’s first rays warm against her skin as she stepped out from the dark tent into the clearing. She stared listlessly at a bright array of clay dishes set out nearby on a small table.
She had no appetite for breakfast.
“Is the breakfast not appealing?” A deep voice caused her to look up into the dark piercing eyes of its owner. Eliezer towered over her with a concerned look on his face.
“No. It isn’t that,” Rebecca answered nervously. “I was just thinking.”
“You are missing home,” he said sympathetically with a knowing look. “It is quite natural and to be expected.”
Tears came to her eyes, but Rebecca blinked them back. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she declared bravely, poking her chin out as she always did when trying to bolster her courage.
“May the Lord bless you for making this difficult decision the way you did.” Eliezer hesitated, as if he wanted to say more. His directness defused Rebecca’s fragile façade of strength and she fled to her private compartment just as the floodgates of tears burst.

Once her homesickness subsided, Rebecca actually started to enjoy the predictable but monotonous daily routine. Mornings found servants packing tents and belongings onto the pack mules, only to reverse the process each night. After a tedious day of straddling her camel along the desert road, Rebecca always enjoyed the cool stillness accompanying the evening meal.

Day after day, they plodded along. Sometimes, she found speaking with Eliezer a pleasant diversion.
“What’s Damascus like?” she asked one day as they rode side-by-side.
“It is a busy place,” he commented in his deep resinous voice. “Many people from all over come to trade.”
“How did you come to serve in Master Abraham’s household?” Rebecca looked at him sideways and noted the mask that often slid over his expression when she asked personal questions.
“That is a long story, Mistress,” he answered and moved away from her. “Excuse me, but I think I need to check on something.”

Several weeks into the trip, Rebecca came out of her tent to something different altogether.
“Where’s my breakfast?” she asked a servant, who just shrugged and hurried past her. Unaccustomed to such treatment, Rebecca opened her mouth to call him back and then saw Eliezer.
“Get that pack on the camel. Quickly!” he ordered the same servant she had planned to chastise for dismissing her.
Now she saw why.
Rebecca frowned. She couldn’t understand the tumultuous state of the caravan.
“What’s happening?” she asked another servant, who pushed a small cup of wine and a plate of dates into her hands.
“Today we will arrive,” the man explained, before dashing off to take care of some other task.
“Hurry, hurry!” There was another spate of activity, as even the normally quiet Eliezer barked at the servants. “Get that pack tied down tight,” he ordered.
“Eliezer,” she pressed him as he passed her. “Why is everyone hurrying?”
“We’re almost to Canaan.” When he said that, her heart skipped a beat. So far, Rebecca had only dreamed of meeting Isaac, but now she had to confront the actuality of it.
“Come here.” As an afterthought, Rebecca motioned one of the young girls she had brought to attend her needs. “I want my veil. Please get it for me from my things they’ve packed.”
She hadn’t worn her veil for most of the trip because it wasn’t expected, nor was it practical. Now, however, Rebecca needed yet one more barrier, one more piece of protection to help her feel safe.
Once everything was packed, someone helped Rebecca onto her camel and they set out at a brisk pace. Even the camels didn’t need coaxing to get started; they seemed to know the end of their long journey was at hand.
Rebecca flinched when someone shouted from behind her. “There’s someone over there on the field!”
She peeked out from behind her veil.
A man rested against a small tree but she couldn’t make out his features in the gathering dusk. His robes were far different from the field hands’ clothing she had seen working in the fields.
“Do you know who that man is?” Rebecca pulled her veil firmly about her face and addressed Eliezer as he drew up beside her. “He’s too well-dressed to be a fieldworker.” Her bracelets tinkled against one another as she pointed toward where he was, “There he is.”
“I don’t know for sure,” he answered, looking thoughtfully at her. Rebecca shifted in her saddle, trying to get a better glimpse. “It looks like Master Isaac, but he’s supposed to be living in the Negev Desert in Beer Lahai Roi.
“Look. He’s running toward us.” Nervous perspiration broke out on her forehead. Isaac might decide to send her back.
“Ho!” A brisk order and raised hand from Eliezer brought the line to a sudden stop. “It is Master Isaac.”
A stocky, ruddy-faced man jogged toward them, and Rebecca lowered her eyes as he approached. Eliezer slipped off his camel to wait.
“Master Isaac!” he exclaimed ecstatically.
“Eliezer!” Isaac cried.
Rebecca furtively eyed the man named Isaac from behind her veil. Wearing a broad grin, he clasped Eliezer’s arms and enthusiastically kissed him on both cheeks. “Where have you come from? I knew you were gone, but Father wouldn’t say where you had gone.”
Eliezer stepped back from Isaac and then asked, “Your father is well?”
“He’s as good as can be expected.” Isaac spoke quickly; pushing back unruly dark curls from his eyes. Rebecca watched and listened from a few feet behind. “With Mother’s death, it’s been hard. You’ve watched Father; you know how he is, Eliezer. He didn’t take Mother’s death very well in the first place. It was a long while before he even ate or drank. I came back to see how he was and stayed on for a bit.” He shifted his gaze toward Rebecca. “Who is this?”
She slid off the camel and stood quietly with her eyes down, hating waiting for an inspection as if she was a sheep at an auction. Remembering who she was, Rebecca jutted her chin out and stood up tall and straight. Though she remained demurely quiet with her hands folded, she watched what was going on through her lashes.
Eliezer explained, “This is your future wife, Master Isaac.” At Isaac’s surprised expression, Rebecca’s courage plummeted – he wasn’t even expecting her. “I was instructed to retrieve her from your father’s lands, then to bring her back if she was willing to come.” At the question in Isaac’s eyes, the man added, “The Lord answered my prayers for guidance and direction, her family recognized God’s hand in the situation, and agreed Rebecca should come.” Eliezer raised his eyebrows meaningfully and continued, “Furthermore, the girl came along with me exactly as your father asked – immediately – with almost no time to prepare.”
“She has lovely eyes.” Isaac stood looking at her thoughtfully, rubbing at his forehead, and frowning. The silence seemed to stretch forever as her heart thundered in her breast. He reached out to tip her chin up so she had to look at him. “A desert flower I knew nothing about, blooming in the wilderness far away.”
He was so handsome!
His serious brown eyes captured hers as he spoke to her. “You came so far knowing so little about what to expect. Why – what made you do this?”
“I believe in God, my lord.” She lowered her eyes again, shyly. “It appeared to be His will that I come, so I did. Could I do any less?” Rebecca’s heart was palpitating wildly. She was sure he could hear it.
What she said was true. If she hadn’t seen the Lord’s hand in this, it might have been too hard.
“Well, it has been an extraordinarily long journey for you. And for you, my friend.” Isaac grinned. “I see God has rewarded your loyalty to my family once again. Shall we move on?” With a twinkle in his eyes, he included Rebecca. “Let’s take our desert flower home.”

Twenty years later…
One cool clear night, Rebecca cuddled up against Isaac on sheepskin rugs in Sarai’s old tent. A lonely far-off cry of a bird sounded in the distance as Isaac rubbed her aching back as he told her, “I prayed you would become pregnant and God gave you the baby you asked for. Why are you complaining?” His next words stirred the guilt she had been trying to ignore. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course I’m happy.” Rebecca shifted onto her back, but turned her head to look at Isaac, “No man could make any woman happier.” She picked his hand up to lay it where the baby was kicking. “This baby is so active! What a lively one – like you!” Rebecca laughed and then sighed. It had taken so long to get pregnant that she felt guilty for feeling glad it would be over soon.
“Why don’t you talk to the Lord about it in the morning?” He laid a cool hand on her forehead. “Go in the fields. Talk to Him before the dew falls, as the sun is coming up.” He smiled reassuringly at her. “I would encourage you to take quiet walks early – now – while you can before the baby comes.”
Rebecca nodded slowly as her thoughts drifted.
It was fortunate for her they shared their faith so openly. What a difference it made in the atmosphere of their home to go to God in prayer, rather than take their troubles out on each other. She had avoided more than one argument by dropping to her knees first before opening her mouth.
Her robe jumped as the baby wiggled and Rebecca sighed. It didn’t seem normal to hurt so much from one unborn child’s movements.
How Rebecca envied Isaac his snoring.
She turned her head and smiled, watching his profile and listening to his raspy breathing. His mouth was wide open.
Once the kicking let up, Rebecca closed her eyes and fell into a deep dreamless sleep. The next thing she heard was Isaac’s insistent voice. “Sweetheart, wake up. If you are to spend time in prayer and meditation, this must be the time – before the workers go out.” At her hesitation, he reassured her, “I will explain to Father why you can’t supervise breakfast. He’ll understand and we’ll get someone else to cover for you.”
Once she actually made it outside, Rebecca welcomed the early-morning coolness as she skirted the tent and walked briskly away from the clearing. Dogs barked behind her in the distance, but she ignored them, confident the mongrels wouldn’t leave their scraps to bother her.
“Lord,” Rebecca began praying once alone on the path.
It had been so long since she had taken early-morning time like this to pray, she had almost forgotten how. “I thank you that you always hear me.” It was hard to know where to start. “Thank you for bringing me here to my husband. You know my faith. I try to do what I believe you want me to do. However, right now, I am constantly in turmoil. My concern isn’t so much for myself, but for the baby.” Rebecca was trying so hard to be brave, but she sobbed as she walked. “Lord, help me! I want my mother and I’m so far from home!”
The breeze shifted direction and gained force, nudging Rebecca away from the path toward an outcropping at the top of a small incline. After discovering a large flat rock shaped like a seat, she sat down to pray.
Absently stretching her long legs out in front of her, she examined her sandy feet peeking out from beneath her robe. The cool air felt so good on her bare face and it was nice that for once, nobody needed anything from her.
Her robe over her tummy jumped where the baby kicked, and she giggled.
Rebecca bowed her head; afraid if she knelt to pray she wouldn’t be able to get back up. “Why is my baby so painfully active in my womb?” she implored Him to show her.
She was so absorbed in prayer that when a voice suddenly came from nowhere, she jumped.
“There are two nations in your womb.”
“Hello?” she asked and sprang to her feet, looking around to see who was speaking. Her only answer was the dry wind blowing through the bushes and down the hill. She shivered with apprehension and suddenly felt very alone.
“The older will serve the younger,” someone said from close by.
“Oh!” Without looking around, Rebecca let out an involuntary cry and slipped to her knees on the rocky ground in spite of her protruding stomach.
She knew who it was – the Lord!
Twins – is that what He meant? How unbelievable.
Now, why would God speak to her?
Was it because she obeyed Him to come so far – or that she took such risks because she trusted Him?
Rebecca’s head hurt.
However, she felt better as His presence surrounded and enveloped her in a soothing cloud of peace. It seemed like hours before she felt released to get up to wobble home, shaken.
She arrived and almost collided with Isaac on her way into the tent. He was adjusting his headpiece and wasn’t paying attention, and nearly knocked her down.
“Sorry,” he exclaimed and steadied her as she almost fell. After seeing the look in her eyes, he exclaimed, “You look as if you saw a ghost!”
Rebecca could only stand there staring at him as sudden pains sliced through her. She grabbed her abdomen in a protective gesture and as water gushed down her legs, her eyes met Isaac’s.
At her unspoken question, he answered, “Yes, sweetheart, it’s time.”
He put an arm firmly around her and shouted for the midwife. “Help! The baby’s coming!”
“Isaac!” Rebecca cried, unable to take another step.
“Hurry!” he bellowed again as three women came from nowhere.
Rebecca panted as she felt herself half-lifted, half-carried into her and Isaac’s tent, and then laid on their bed. Only faintly aware Isaac had disappeared, she listened while the women tended her, their voices crooning and encouraging. Pain rifled through Rebecca again, and she screamed.
How she hated Isaac right then!
“Push!” someone yelled. Rebecca pushed with all her might. A wail sounded, then one of the women cried, “It’s a boy!”
Rebecca tried to get up on her elbows for a better look, but dropped back down to the bed as another pain came. Immediately, someone commanded her. “Push!” She bore down, and this time smiled weakly, as a second set of cries pierced the air. “It’s also a boy!” the midwife cried.
One of the women held up a ruddy-faced fuzzy-haired baby, and said, “This one had hold of the first baby’s ankle!” Then she held up the second baby, but Rebecca just closed her eyes – her hair was soaked with sweat, and she felt weak but happy.
About an hour later, one of the women bustling about tending Rebecca and the babies herded Isaac into the tent. He stood there uncertainly, and then broke out laughing. Rebecca looked up at him, a babe nestled on either side of her. “Do you see what happens when we pray? We never know what we’ll end up with!”

A few days later, while she nursed one baby at each breast after she and Isaac had finished eating, Rebecca asked him to do something for her. “Tell me about what happened in our family before Eliezer came and found me.”
She smiled up at him as one of the babies gurgled in her arms
“It’s a long story.”
“Tell me – please,” she cajoled him, giving him her special smile. He could never refuse it when she showed him her dimples. “I want to know why you are so much like your father Abraham…”
“Now?” he asked incredulously.
Rebecca smiled at each baby suckling, and then pointedly stared back at Isaac to say, “Do you have anything better to tell our boys than how God led our family?”
“Oh all right,” Isaac conceded and grinned sheepishly. “You win. My father used to be known as Abram before his name was changed… lean back, darling – it’s a long story.”

Read more about The Golden Thread and Catherine Craig HERE.

Copyright 2008 Catherine Craig. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.