Adele God of Our Ancestors

1. Auflage 2011
ISBN: 978-1-61792-633-4
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 550 Seiten

The God of Our Ancestors is the scorching romance that follows the ancient Israelites from Egypt to the Promised Land, and tells the tale of the tale of two people and two peoples: Caleb, the ruggedly handsome Israelite stone cutter in Pharaoh's Egypt, whose relationship with the God of his ancestors is tested by unimaginable hardship; and Mishael, the strikingly beautiful Witch of Midian, whose sacrifice to remain pure for the God of her ancestors shapes her life. When their lives and cultures cross, the explosive resulting climax provides essential context for answering a 3500+ year-old mystery -- why did God keep Moses from entering the Promised Land? The answer will shock and astound you, even as this romance takes you on a journey you will never forget.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Adele

Leseproben

    Caleb   Caleb’s mother died giving birth to him.  She hailed from the tribe of Judah and believed fervently in the God of her ancestors.  Even as she lay dying with the infant Caleb in her arms, she never wavered in her beliefs.  Her husband, Jephunneh, was a Kenizzite slave working Pharaoh’s quarries.{4}  Jephunneh swore, on his wife’s deathbed, that he would teach his son the beliefs and traditions of his wife’s ancestors.   Jephunneh arranged for a wet nurse from the tribe of Judah to care for his son.  She educated Jephunneh in Judah’ism, as she called it, a way of life and belief system that Jephunneh adopted as his own.  She taught Jephunneh (as she would later teach Caleb) of God Almighty, ruler of Creation, who had endless knowledge and power, but no name and no form.  The thought of such a Being brought hope to the hopeless and light to the darkness.   Like all slaves, Jephunneh loathed slavery and longed for freedom.  Unlike many, however, Jephunneh appreciated the blessings in his life.  But then, he was still young and healthy.  In the quarry, those who worked hard and didn’t complain fared well, while those whose bodies or minds failed them felt the sting of the whip or worse.   Life in the quarry had many hardships, but it left Jephunneh’s body rock hard.  Sometimes, the days in the hot sun seemed endless, but the few free men he saw from day to day – Pharaoh’s guards and overseers – worked hard in their own way.  Whether free man or slave, a man still had to work to feed his family and spent the end of the day with loved ones and friends.  Jephunneh had a hard life, yet he felt blessed as his wife’s belly had grown with his infant child.  Besides, most Israelite slaves suffered far harder bondage.   Jephunneh possessed a quiet wisdom that surprised all who came to know him.  Friends and neighbors had begun looking to Jephunneh to settle disputes.  It started simply enough when he broke up a quarrel and chastised each party for their part in the matter.  He spoke to them from his heart and his head, hardly believing when they heeded his advice.  It hadn’t taken long before others sought him out when he returned home from the quarry.    Jephunneh never charged for judging and refused all gifts.  “Payment creates the appearance of corruption and then corruption soon follows,” Jephunneh told all who offered him gifts.   Jephunneh welcomed judging for he was not naturally social.  Solitary by nature, Jephunneh chose his friends sparingly.  His wife had been his best friend – his only friend truth be told.  The death of Jephunneh’s wife left him empty and alone.      * * * Within days after Caleb’s birth, Jephunneh found himself working in the quarry next to a stonecutter named Nun, an Israelite member of the Ephraim tribe.  Nun attacked the stone with such ferocity that quarry workers feared him and overseers kept their distance.  More apt to scowl than smile, Nun’s brooding intensity frightened people away, but hid a surprisingly gentle spirit.   That day, however, Nun smiled broadly.  The quarry rang with the sound of Nun’s hammer, pounding spike after spike, deep into the rock.  The harder he worked, the broader he smiled, until he no longer seemed the same man to Jephunneh.       “You’re smiling,” Jephunneh observed, taking a swig from a water skin and speaking to Nun for the first time.  “I’ve never seen you smile before.”   “I have a son,” Nun replied proudly, wiping the sweat from his brow.  “His name is Hosea.  Born three days ago.”   “Congratulations,” Jephunneh offered, extending the water skin to Nun.  “May God bless him and keep him, healthy and safe.”   “Thank you,” Nun replied, taking the water, drinking deep and smiling.   “I too have a son, just five days old,” Jephunneh added, his tone flat and unemotional.  “His name is Caleb.”   “Congratulations to you, Jephunneh!” Nun responded heartily, before pausing.  “Forgive me,” he said, “but you don’t seem very happy.”   “My wife died in childbirth,” Jephunneh explained.   “Oh,” Nun said awkwardly, “I’m sorry.”   Neither spoke much for the rest of the day as they worked side by side in the quarry.  Their bodies glistened in the waning sunlight when they descended the quarry face and returned to their homes.    * * * Over the next several days, Nun and Jephunneh worked together in close quarters mining the same stretch of quarry.  They quickly grew to respect each other’s skills with a hammer.  They worked hard, shared an occasional water skin and said little more than necessary.   “Nun?” Jephunneh asked, after a long period of silence.  “I am having a few friends over tonight for the bris.  Would you and your family care to join us?”   “The bris?” Nun asked.  “People still perform a . . .”  Nun’s voice trailed off and his face reddened, realizing his comment could have caused offense.  Nun’s quiet disposition stemmed from the awkward experience of repeatedly removing his foot from his mouth.   “Before my wife died, I promised her I would raise Caleb in the tradition of his ancestors from the tribe of Judah,” Jephunneh explained without apology in a tone that made clear he had taken no offense.  “Apparently, this is one of their customs . . . or so says the wet nurse.”      “We would love to join you,” Nun responded.  He shuddered at the thought of ritual circumcision, but he was honored at the invitation to so personal an event.   * * * Jephunneh and Nun developed a close friendship, as did their sons Caleb and Hosea.  The two boys played together as toddlers.  They wrestled and tumbled and found all manner of mischief, growing healthy and strong – the pride of their fathers.   Jephunneh and Nun spent many evenings together, watching their sons play.  As their sons played, Jephunneh and Nun carved patterns in stones the size of a palm fruit.  They traded their finished stones for small luxuries and gifts, though their mutual love of carving was reward in itself.   Their carvings became so renowned that Pharaoh himself took notice.  Pharaoh promoted them from stone cutters to stone carvers and had them work on the façades of his temples and palaces.  By the standards of an Egyptian slave, the hardships of life eased considerably.  The days of swinging a heavy hammer in the hot sun gave way to work with finer tools, often under the shade of a tent or awning.  Even Pharaoh knew that a comfortable workplace yielded better quality stone carving.   * * *   As the years passed, one of Jephunneh’s neighbors gave birth to a girl named Sarah.  Sarah’s father, Faroul, asked Jephunneh to settle a dispute with their mid-wife.  The birth had been long and extremely difficult, but both child and mother had survived.  The mid-wife demanded twice the agreed upon fee.  Jephunneh ruled in her favor.   “You have your wife and your daughter.  If not for this woman, you might have had neither,” Jephunneh chastised gently.  “Rejoice in your blessings and do not quarrel over money.  The fee she demands is reasonable,” he concluded, before adding almost inaudibly, “a bargain, in fact.”   Faroul winced at the ruling and scowled for a moment, before his features softened and the corners of his mouth betrayed the hint of a smile.  “You are wise,” Faroul admitted, “I will abide by your decision.”   The few observers cheered as Faroul paid the mid-wife’s fee.  As the observers wandered off, Faroul lingered a moment.   “Come join us,” Jephunneh offered, as he and Nun sat to carve stones.   Faroul didn’t carve stones, but he had a gift for storytelling known far and wide.  He happily joined them.    Faroul loved to tell tales of the Israelites’ relationship with God.  At first Nun resented the intrusion on his friendship with Jephunneh.  But soon he too grew to appreciate Faroul’s companionship and storytelling.   During those days, Jephunneh, Nun and Faroul were happier than most free men.  Yet the three of them longed for freedom and spoke of it often.  It was a longing they couldn’t help but pass on to their children.   * * * “I’ve been thinking of asking Faroul for Sarah’s hand in marriage,” Jephunneh said to Nun as Sarah approached her third...