Read Online Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) by Jill Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jill Smith
Tags: FIC042040, FIC042030, FIC027050, Bible. O.T.—History of Biblical events—Fiction, Women in the Bible—Fiction, Sarah (Biblical matriarch)—Fiction
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failures.
“Adonai has already blessed me, dear one. Father could have added nothing to such promises as His.” He rested a hand on her back.
She gave him a brief look, unconvinced. Turning once more to her father, she touched his face with her palm but did not linger. Life had gone out of him, and the feel of his skin made her shiver.
Never again would she listen to him give Abram sage advice or look on him with pride, bolstered by his endearing smile. Never again would she look into his eyes, hear his laughter, or touch his dear face.
She could not swallow past the lump in her throat.
How much she would miss him!
She felt Abram’s arms drawing her close, turning her into his comforting embrace. She slumped into him, weeping.
7
Mourners’ cries mingled with the joyous shouts of singing and dance from the remaining days of the New Year’s celebration, and the steady beat of the drums caused a headache to form along Abram’s brow. The rituals and worship of foreign gods had grown wearying, and Abram feared his household was being drawn away to follow after the ways of Ur and Harran rather than remaining true to Adonai.
The procession to the public cemetery on the outskirts of Harran stopped before a deep burial chamber cut into the ground. Stone circular stairs led downward into darkness, making him shudder. When the time came, he would find a cave for himself and Sarai rather than a pit, but his choices here were limited.
Four strong Arameans lifted the stone sarcophagus to the edge of a chamber and descended with Terah’s body to place it in a crevice in the depths of the earth. The sounds of weeping swirled around him, and Abram’s own tears flowed freely. Scents of dirt and the press of unwashed bodies stirred the gentle breeze coming down from the north and rustling the terebinth trees standing guard over the place.
“He lived a good life,” Sarai whispered, her voice calmer than it had been a few days before, the day of their father’s death. “He was a good man.”
Abram nodded, but words would not come past the emotion in his throat. Gregarious in life, his father was well loved by everyone who met him. A careful businessman, shrewd yet giving, compassionate and understanding, yet not overly introspective. Unlike his thirdborn, whose introspective thoughts questioned where his father was now. What fate befell a man who worshiped many gods, adding El Echad to his plethora of choices rather than turning his devotion to Him alone? Did God judge a man for having a divided heart?
A ram’s horn sounded, its lingering notes melancholy and haunting. Articles of pottery, clothing, furniture, and coins would have normally accompanied Terah into his tomb to keep him company in his rest, but Abram would have none of it. A man came into this life with nothing and could take nothing with him. Of that he was certain, whether Terah had believed it or not. When the last note died away, Abram released Sarai’s hand and faced the crowd.
“We commit the body of Terah ben Nahor to his Creator this day, to return it to the dust from which it came. May he rest in Sheol in peace.”
If only he knew that for certain.
What he did know was that the time had come to leave this place, to get his people away from the influences of other gods, to go as God had said to the place He would show him. Abram had waited in Harran long enough. It was time he obeyed and set things right.
Sarai stood at the side of the kneeling camel, not at all certain the animal could be trusted. Abram had acquired more of the long-necked beasts during their stay in Harran to help carry the added provisions and servants that were going with them to Canaan. And he expected her to ride on one of them, assuring her the journey would be pleasant, the ride one of relaxed ease. Looking at the beast’s large eyes and deceptive smile, she didn’t believe a word of it, and she was certain there was no way she could mount it, in any case.
“Eliezer
“Adonai has already blessed me, dear one. Father could have added nothing to such promises as His.” He rested a hand on her back.
She gave him a brief look, unconvinced. Turning once more to her father, she touched his face with her palm but did not linger. Life had gone out of him, and the feel of his skin made her shiver.
Never again would she listen to him give Abram sage advice or look on him with pride, bolstered by his endearing smile. Never again would she look into his eyes, hear his laughter, or touch his dear face.
She could not swallow past the lump in her throat.
How much she would miss him!
She felt Abram’s arms drawing her close, turning her into his comforting embrace. She slumped into him, weeping.
7
Mourners’ cries mingled with the joyous shouts of singing and dance from the remaining days of the New Year’s celebration, and the steady beat of the drums caused a headache to form along Abram’s brow. The rituals and worship of foreign gods had grown wearying, and Abram feared his household was being drawn away to follow after the ways of Ur and Harran rather than remaining true to Adonai.
The procession to the public cemetery on the outskirts of Harran stopped before a deep burial chamber cut into the ground. Stone circular stairs led downward into darkness, making him shudder. When the time came, he would find a cave for himself and Sarai rather than a pit, but his choices here were limited.
Four strong Arameans lifted the stone sarcophagus to the edge of a chamber and descended with Terah’s body to place it in a crevice in the depths of the earth. The sounds of weeping swirled around him, and Abram’s own tears flowed freely. Scents of dirt and the press of unwashed bodies stirred the gentle breeze coming down from the north and rustling the terebinth trees standing guard over the place.
“He lived a good life,” Sarai whispered, her voice calmer than it had been a few days before, the day of their father’s death. “He was a good man.”
Abram nodded, but words would not come past the emotion in his throat. Gregarious in life, his father was well loved by everyone who met him. A careful businessman, shrewd yet giving, compassionate and understanding, yet not overly introspective. Unlike his thirdborn, whose introspective thoughts questioned where his father was now. What fate befell a man who worshiped many gods, adding El Echad to his plethora of choices rather than turning his devotion to Him alone? Did God judge a man for having a divided heart?
A ram’s horn sounded, its lingering notes melancholy and haunting. Articles of pottery, clothing, furniture, and coins would have normally accompanied Terah into his tomb to keep him company in his rest, but Abram would have none of it. A man came into this life with nothing and could take nothing with him. Of that he was certain, whether Terah had believed it or not. When the last note died away, Abram released Sarai’s hand and faced the crowd.
“We commit the body of Terah ben Nahor to his Creator this day, to return it to the dust from which it came. May he rest in Sheol in peace.”
If only he knew that for certain.
What he did know was that the time had come to leave this place, to get his people away from the influences of other gods, to go as God had said to the place He would show him. Abram had waited in Harran long enough. It was time he obeyed and set things right.
Sarai stood at the side of the kneeling camel, not at all certain the animal could be trusted. Abram had acquired more of the long-necked beasts during their stay in Harran to help carry the added provisions and servants that were going with them to Canaan. And he expected her to ride on one of them, assuring her the journey would be pleasant, the ride one of relaxed ease. Looking at the beast’s large eyes and deceptive smile, she didn’t believe a word of it, and she was certain there was no way she could mount it, in any case.
“Eliezer
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