Rebekah

by Jill Eileen Smith

  Would he end up living her fate?

  He moved into the tent, feeling his way along the wall, suddenly no longer hungry for the food Haviv was preparing. The darkness that followed his every step deepened in the shadows of the tent. His foot touched his mat, and he sank down, his bones aged and creaking with every breath.

  How he missed Rebekah! But not the woman she had been of late. He missed the bride of his youth, the woman who had shared life with him before God answered his prayer and granted them twins. The twins who had come between them.

  But no. It was the vision that had brought the division and this final betrayal. The vision he had refused to accept and believe.

  If You meant for the older to serve the younger, why did You not tell me too?

  He had been denied the knowledge, the call of God, that had sent his father off to sacrifice the only son he loved on the altar of binding, of betrayal, and then he had been denied the vision given to his wife that would have him sacrifice the son he loved on the altar of parental blessing.

  Why?

  Where was God’s goodness now?

  Ishmael’s question of old haunted him as he turned onto his back and stared into the dark. Tears trickled down his face into the mat below him. Why did God keep such things from him? Surely he had been obedient, trusting. He had surrendered his whole life into God’s keeping.

  Not all.

  No. Not this. He had clung to his disbelief in Rebekah’s vision because he could not see Jacob taking Esau’s place in leading the camp, in handling foreign tribesmen, in being the man Isaac wanted him to be. A hunter. A man of the wild. A man after his father’s heart. Not his mother’s. Not like he had been.

  Truth dawned on him at the thought. When had his love for his mother turned to anger, to this running from all that she’d been, from the way she had protected him, doted on him, held him too tightly in her bonds? And he’d been running from her influence, from the fear of repeating her errors with his sons, ever since.

  But at what cost?

  He rose up on his elbows and closed his eyes, longing for sight. Had he rejected Rebekah’s vision because his own past would not allow it? And had he lost her love in the process?

  Sadness filled him as he rose to sit upright once more, his sight finally cleared to see the truth that had lain in his heart all along. He loved Rebekah. Despite everything, despite her failings and his, he loved her with a force that shook him to his inner being. He would return to her and seek her forgiveness.

  And tell her that at last he believed her.

  Rebekah arrived at Beer-lahai-roi two days later with Haviv’s younger son guiding her, protecting her. She spoke quietly to Haviv, grateful that Isaac remained seated in the shade of one of the larger date palms, unaware of her presence. She worked quickly to put the lentils and barley to boil, season them with garlic and cumin, and stir it all together with a willow branch. Isaac’s favorite stew, like the kind his mother used to make for him and his father when life was good and joy filled their house with laughter.

  Oh, Adonai, Elohei Abraham, restore our joy.

  When the stew and seasoned flatbread Isaac favored were ready, she carried them to his side and set the food before him. Isaac opened his eyes, though they did not see her, and sniffed the air.

  “I did not expect spiced stew. You will be accused of being a woman if you continue to cook so well, my friend.” Isaac laughed, obviously expecting Haviv to respond.

  “I have been accused of worse.” She watched his expression startle at the sound of her voice.

  “Rebekah.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “You are here.”

  “Yes.”

  He sat very still, but his unseeing eyes moistened, and he blinked away the threat of tears. She knelt beside him, her heart as skittish as a new bride, and was suddenly cold with fear. What if he rejected her now? But she had nothing left to lose.

  He reached for her hand and held it gently in his, saying nothing, then lifted it, kissed her palm, and intertwined their fingers as they had once intertwined their bodies. He pulled her close until her head rested against his chest. Tears she thought long spent rose up, filling her eyes, as he tenderly drew circles along her back.

  Moments passed in silence until he slowly, deliberately, held her at arm’s length. When she looked into his face, she did not see a man spent with age but a young husband, her lover, the man she had pledged her whole life to love and serve. Her heart skipped a beat as he leaned closer, and his lips lingered over hers, their tears mingling.

  “I have not been the man you wanted.”

  “No, I have not accepted the man you are. It is I who did not appreciate what you offered me.”

  “I should have been stronger.” His voice held strength she had not heard from him in years.

  “I should have been kinder.” And she knew it was true. There were so many times when she had been the one blinded. “I tried to make you like my father.” Who had given her everything she wanted but not all that she needed in a man she could rely on.

  “I let you fill my mother’s place.”

  “There was no harm in that.”

  He shrugged one shoulder, and his eyes misted again.

  “I did not see you, who you really are,” she said, feeling his arms come around her again. “I only saw what I wanted to see.”

  “I loved you in spite of it all.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “But I did not treat you as I should have. If I had, I would not have favored Jacob over you.” She felt his heart beating steadily beneath the tunic she had made him. One she had made more out of duty than love. She saw that too clearly now.

  “I knew you loved me.” His voice held such kindness, making her want to weep again.

  “I did love you. I do love you. I just didn’t see how much until now.” She pulled back from him, holding her breath, waiting. She searched his face.

  He looked at her, and for a moment she thought he could see her. Perhaps he did, for a smile began that gently grew, encompassing her, drawing her in.

  “I won’t let you go.” He pulled her close again, and she rested in his embrace. How good it felt, knowing she was loved.

  They held each other in silence once more, their hearts beating as one.

  “You were right about Jacob,” he said, surprising her. “God chose him to receive the blessing from the start.”

  She stilled, the revelation settling over her. He believed her—that God had spoken to her. If only he had accepted this sooner . . . But she would not allow herself to finish the thought.

  “I should have believed you from the beginning, beloved.”

  “I should have trusted Adonai to show you in His good time.”

  Silence moved between them once more, broken only by the sound of the birds and the whisper of God’s breath in the wind.

  “We cannot live with regrets, beloved. What is past is gone. Let us learn from our forefathers’ mistakes and not continue to repeat them.” He kissed her softly, and she knew he still tasted her tears. “We have the rest of our lives to make new ones.”

  She laughed through her tears but quickly sobered at the guilt that still lingered within her. “But I have lost Esau in the process. He will never forgive me.”

  “He will come around in time. He loves you more than he knows.”

  She nodded though he could not see, comfortable in the silence, silence borne of a lifetime together, of knowing they were always meant to share their love.

  “In the meantime, we have each other,” he said.

  “Yes, we do.” She kissed his cheek.

  And for now, that was enough.

  Note from the Author

  It is said that writing is hard work. A truer word could not have been spoken for me when it came to writing Rebekah. I stressed and prayed over every scene, certain I would never pull the story together.

  At last that day came where the final scene trickled from my fingers to the p
age. I typed “The End” and breathed a sigh of relief. I had lived through this!

  But through the relief, another thought quickly followed. I sensed God’s Spirit saying, “If I gave you the contract, I can give you the story.”

  The words were humbling. I had been stressing rather than trusting.

  Even in faith we can doubt. But I pray that I will not stress and doubt that way again. I do not claim my words are His, but He gives the grace to complete the work. I am in awe of a heavenly Father who used a difficult story to teach me much about Himself, about His character. May I never stop trusting Him.

  I hope you have enjoyed reading Rebekah’s story. Please know that I have done my best to stay close to the story as laid out in Scripture. Sometimes, where things like chronology were unclear and scholars more learned than I disagreed, I followed the path that made the most sense to me. One case in point is the placing of Keturah in Abraham’s life. The Bible does not tell us when he married her; it only says that he took her as a concubine and together they had six sons.

  Some commentators suggest that Abraham married Keturah after Sarah’s death, which is possible. But it is equally possible that Abraham took her earlier. In Genesis 22, immediately after the binding of Isaac, the Bible says that Abraham stayed in Beersheba, but Sarah apparently lived in Hebron because Abraham went there to mourn for her when she died. So did they spend some years apart?

  Some scholars suggest that Sarah died shortly after Isaac’s binding because of the shock of what Abraham nearly did to her son. How would she have felt upon hearing the news that her husband had offered her son on an altar? Appalled? Furious? Afraid? Shocked? It’s easy to imagine if we put ourselves in her place.

  As for Rebekah and Isaac, this was a tale that was very hard to tell. The Bible gives us little to work with when compared to the great detail given to Abraham and Jacob. The story needed to have a relational rather than an action-oriented focus. In the end, I discovered a greater hero in Isaac than I expected. And in Rebekah, I saw the dangers of an overbearing mother/son relationship.

  As always, any errors, as well as the fictional parts of this story where Scripture is silent or confusing, are my own. I hope you will turn to Genesis and read the story of the patriarchs in context. The truths hidden there are fascinating!

  In His Grace,

  Jill Eileen Smith

  Acknowledgments

  To the team at Revell—I am so grateful for each one of you! Special thanks there go to:

  Lonnie Hull DuPont—I love working and laughing with you! I am honored to call you editor and friend.

  Jessica English—I can’t imagine a better person to edit my work. You have a way of wording things that takes all the pain out of making changes!

  Michele Misiak—I love your can-do attitude and laughing with you on the phone. Thanks for such great marketing advice.

  Cheryl Van Andel—you wow me with your cover designs! Thank you for giving me a sneak peek at some of the behind-the-scenes choices! I LOVE this cover!

  To my agent, Wendy Lawton—I am so blessed to know you and to work with you! Thank you for all you do!

  To some special family and friends: Mom, Elaine, Jill Marie, Karen, Kathy K., Kathy K., Kathy R., Kathy F., Maureen, Robin, Joyce, Judy, Sue—thank you for being real and for our shared faith and friendship.

  To my family: Randy, Jeff, Chris, and Ryan—life holds such joy and meaning because you’re in it. I could not have understood Rebekah’s story without knowing and loving you.

  To the many family, friends, and influencers that for lack of space I did not name—please know you are thought of with gratitude and love.

  Most of all, to Yeshua HaMashiach, Jesus, Messiah, my Deliverer, my Savior, the only true sacrifice for sin—thank You for doing what Isaac could not.

  Thank You for loving me that much.

  Jill Eileen Smith is the author of Sarai, book 1 in the Wives of the Patriarchs series, and the bestselling Wives of King David series. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family—in person, over the webcam, or by hopping a plane to fly across the country. She can often be found reading, testing new recipes, grabbing lunch with friends, or snuggling one or both of her adorable cats. She lives with her family in southeast Michigan.

  To learn more about Jill or for more information about her books, visit her website at www.jilleileensmith.com. You can also contact Jill at jill@jilleileensmith.com. She loves hearing from her readers.

  Books by Jill Eileen Smith

  * * *

  THE WIVES OF KING DAVID

  Michal

  Abigail

  Bathsheba

  WIVES OF THE PATRIARCHS

  Sarai

  Rebekah

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