Like Flames in the Night

The consequences of our foolish decisions are always made clearer when we look backward on the path we've traveled.

Why had I ever felt the need to strive for worthiness when my abba's love was so plainly unconditional and boundless?

The Arameans can try to blow out a few flames — and they may succeed for a time — but there is no stamping out a raging wildfire.

She was a meek servant during the day, all subservient and silent feet, and a stern-faced warrior facing off with me and stealing my bed at night.

Our people, our land, and our entire way of life was at stake, and if I had to give my own life for this mission, I would.

There was just me and the One who created me, and it was enough.

His guard may be well established and his walls high from the grief he'd suffered. But I was a spy. I'd slipped into places far more dangerous than Liyam's broken heart.

The secret twitched on my lips even as they heartily agreed to my offer and I slipped away to retrieve the cakes, but I could already taste victory on my tongue.

The breeze tangled into her luxurious curls, making me jealous of its invisible fingers.

Mourning the loss of the sweet smile she'd given me before I'd tripped over my own tongue, I followed after her with muddy feet and a thorny tangle coiled inside my gut.

I'd noticed her brown eyes before now, but in the direct sunlight they reminded me of pools of rich date honey, sweet and warm. And I knew if I sank into them I'd never be free of their pull.

All night, I'd snatched glances at Tirvah across the room as she hovered in the shadows, head down and posture subservient as she played her role, moving around the table with such silent steps that none of the others seemed to even notice she was there until I'd pointed her out. But the woman standing before me now, practically vibrating with fury and looking as if she might even yet pull out those knives and slit my throat, was no cowering shadow. She was magnificent.

I growled like the rabid dog I'd become.

You may have had some fun running with us when you were a girl, or slinging stones and climbing trees, but you are not a man —

Othneil was sent by Yahweh, of that I have no doubt. But he is only a man. Just as Mosheh was only a man. And even though we have won some battles, without the covering of the Almighty we will ultimately fail. Yes, the sword will be important in this fight, and we must raise up as many able-bodied men as we can to be ready, but without out hearts turned fully to Yahweh, without the am seagull embracing their true identity as the beloved people of our Creator, then we will only slide directly back into apathy and idolatry like we did before.

I dropped to my knees and laid my forehead on the cold ground. With my face in the dirt, I pleaded aloud with the God who spoke the heavens into being.

You are priests. Sanctified for the purpose of pointing the people to the Truth, of gathering us together without fear so we can be an example to the nations of who the Eternal One truly is.

They may have pressed our faces into the dirt for a while, but we have a weapon that they do not. One with infinitely more power than they could ever hope to wield. We have Yahweh. And just as Yehoshua told us before our fathers began that first loop around Jericho, he is with us. He will go behind us and before us. Without him it would be mere human effort, yes, and likely destined to fail, but with him as our shield and banner, no enemy will be able to stand against us. And I, for one, will not lay down and accept the loss of even one more Hebrew life.

Hers was not a bold or extravagant beauty but one I found myself appreciating nonetheless. However, it was not the curve of her long, graceful neck, the depth of her dark eyes, or the smooth bronze skin that I found myself admiring most. It was the courage written on every line of her intriguing face.

By the time I was empty of prayers, I understood why Avner seemed so at peace as he was led away. It was as if there was nothing left of me, of my selfish need to push and run and fight and prove my worth to everyone around me. There was just me and the One who'd created me, and it was enough.

A fire will burn there again soon. And when it does, be assured that it was your iron strike against our flinty hearts that created the first spark.