Sons of Encouragement

by Francine Rivers

  Two days later, Jerioth died, and a month later Caleb awakened to find Ephrathah dead beside him. A cry rose from his throat as he tore his clothing and went out to throw dust in the air. He didn’t speak a word to anyone for a month.

  Never had Caleb felt such a weight of grief upon him, and rebellion rose up with it, unbidden and unexpected. He ran to the Tabernacle and prostrated himself before the Lord. Kill the evil within me, Lord. Kill it before it takes root and grows. He did not leave the Tabernacle for three days. Still grieving, he rose with a peace beyond understanding. The Lord, the Lord is my strength. He is my high place, my comfort.

  The next morning, the cloud moved and Caleb had his tents struck, packed, and set out to follow. When the Lord stopped, the Tabernacle was set up and the tribes took positions around it, this time at an oasis with date palms. As Caleb returned to the courtyard of the Tabernacle, he rested in the Lord’s presence rather than warring within himself. Better was one day in the court of the Lord than a thousand elsewhere.

  He mourned for Ephrathah, but went back out to train the young men for battle. A new generation had come to manhood, with sons coming up behind them. Caleb felt renewed strength flood through his body, as though the Lord had given him back the time and strength the wilderness had taken from him.

  The forty years were almost over. Their wandering was almost at an end.

  The Lord led the Israelites to Kadesh a second time. Caleb gathered his sons and their sons around him. “This is where the people waited while Joshua and I went into Canaan. This is where the people rebelled against the Lord.” He made fists. “Listen this time. Listen and obey.”

  He awakened each morning, prepared to go on, to move closer, to have that which God had promised him. Land of his own, a place to plant crops, a place where he could rest beneath his own olive tree and sip the fruit of his vines.

  But the waiting wasn’t over.

  Moses’ sister, Miriam, died. Shocked, the entire camp mourned her death as they would a mother. Something broke within the ranks and a mob cried out against Moses, for once again there was no water.

  “The Lord will provide!” Caleb shouted, but no one listened. He went into his tent, and sat, head in hands.

  If I stay out there, Lord, I will kill someone. I will draw my sword and not stop until You strike me down! Will we never change? Are we destined to rebel against the Lord God Almighty all our lives. Israel! The name itself means to wrestle with You. Is that why You called them that? This generation is the same as the last. Rebellion against God is in the blood!

  Cries of jubilation came. He arose and went out to find water pouring from a rock. The people shouted and sang and splashed the water over themselves. The waters were called Meribah because this place was yet another where the Israelites had quarreled with the Lord. But after that day, Moses looked old and sick, and spoke hardly at all.

  Moses sent messengers to Edom requesting passage through their land, and Edom answered with the threat of war. Caleb was filled with shame. Were the Edomites not brothers? They—like Caleb—were descended from Esau. Caleb despised the blood that ran in his veins.

  Once again, Moses sent messengers with assurances that the people would stay to the King’s Highway and not tread upon any field or go through any vineyard or even drink water from any well, but merely pass through to the land God had given them. Not only did the Edomites refuse, they came out with an army ready for battle.

  “Tell Moses we are ready to fight!” Caleb told Joshua. “Send us out to deal with these people. Let none stand in the way of the Lord God of Israel!”

  “They are brothers, Caleb.”

  “They reject us. Let us annihilate them! They are betrayers and blasphemers.”

  “They are descendants of Abraham as we are.”

  “They are a wall between us and God’s promises!”

  “Caleb—”

  “Do not excuse them, Joshua. Men must choose. And they have chosen death!”

  “You are my brother and friend, Caleb. Remember the Law. Vengeance is the Lord’s.”

  The words pierced Caleb and cooled his anger. But his temper and impatience rose again when Moses prayed and then turned away from Edom and set out to return to Kadesh.

  “Kadesh!” Caleb ground his teeth. “Will our faith take us no farther than Kadesh?” When the people rested, he went to the Tabernacle and spent the night on his face in the dust. Why, Lord? Why must we show mercy?

  They moved on to Mount Hor and made camp. Moses, Aaron, and Aaron’s son Eleazar went up the mountain. Caleb’s impatience was eating him alive. He practiced with his sword. He paced. He pondered. Lord, Lord! When? The slaves are all dead! Your judgment has been fulfilled!

  Only Moses and Eleazar came down.

  When word spread that Aaron was dead, shock spread through the camp and the people went into mourning. No one had expected God to take Aaron. Thirty days passed before the cloud rose and the people followed Him along the road to Atharim.

  Shouts and screams came from the distance. Armed and ready to fight, Caleb shouted for his sons. But it was already too late. Canaanites living in the Negev, led by the king of Arad, had attacked and taken captives. The people mourned and raged. It had happened so quickly, no one had expected it.

  Caleb’s wrath boiled over. “Give us leave to destroy them.”

  “It is not my decision,” Joshua said.

  “Will you never stand and cry out to the Lord as Moses does?” Caleb strode into the courtyard of the Tabernacle. “Lord!” People stopped moving and stared. “Lord, send us.” No one spoke or even dared breathe. “Deliver these people into our hands and we will destroy their cities!”

  Moses rose from his knees and came toward him, face haggard. Caleb stood his ground. “Forty years we’ve wandered because we did not have the faith to go into the land. Will we lack faith again? The Lord said the land is ours. Don’t tell me the Lord wants us to be attacked and made slaves again. I won’t believe it!”

  Moses’ eyes caught fire. “The Lord has heard our plea and given the Canaanites over to us. ‘Go!’ saith the Lord. ‘Go and destroy them and their towns. Leave nothing standing and no one breathing! Go in the name of the Lord.’”

  And Caleb and Joshua did.

  The place came to be known as Hormah: “Destruction.”

  When Moses led the community back toward the Red Sea in order to take the route around Edom, Caleb had to turn his mind to daily training rather than give in to his growing tension and impatience to reach Canaan. When he heard grumbling, which came more often since the victory over the king of Arad, he reminded the people of what Moses had said: “The Edomites are sons of Esau, and therefore our brothers.”

  “Brothers who treat us like enemies!” Jesher was as eager to fight as his older half brothers Mesha and Mareshah.

  “It matters not how they treat us.” Caleb reined his sons in like young stallions. “We must do what is right.”

  “Anyone who stands in our way stands in the way of the Lord!”

  Caleb felt a prickling of apprehension. He grasped Mesha by the shoulder. “Who are you to presume you know the will of God?” He dug his fingers in until his son winced. “It is Moses who speaks God’s Word, and it is Moses who says we must go around Edom.” He let go of his son and looked around the tent at the five others. “You would all do well to remember that, whether we like it or not, Esau’s blood runs in our veins.”

  They couldn’t quibble about Edom, so they focused their anger and impatience elsewhere.

  “We never have enough water!”

  “I’m sick to death of this manna.”

  “When will we have something else to eat?”

  Beneath the surface of their complaints was a lusting for vengeance upon Edom and what they believed was a needless delay to the gratification of entering the Promised Land. The people coiled in small groups of malcontents, hissed and struck at Moses, forgetting how he had loved and prayed for them every day, all day, fo
r forty years.

  Reaching for some firewood, Caleb felt a sharp sting. Sucking in his breath, he drew back his hand. A snake hung from his arm, fangs sunk deep into the tendons of Caleb’s wrist. Pain licked through his veins. Some women screamed.

  “Get back!” he cried out as he shook his arm. Rather than shaking free, the serpent’s tail curled around his arm and tightened.

  Caleb grasped the head and yanked the snake free, tossing it away from him. It coiled for another strike. Caleb’s grandson Hebron drew his dagger and sliced off the snake’s head. As its body writhed in the dust, Caleb crushed the head with his heel. Then, losing strength, he went to his knees.

  The poison worked quickly. Caleb felt his heart pounding faster and faster. Sweat broke out and a wave of nausea gripped him. Someone held him gently and laid him down. “No,” he rasped. “Get me up . . .”

  “Father!” Mesha grasped him. Jesher and Mareshah came running, Shobab just behind them. They were all talking at once, no one listening. He saw fear in their eyes. Confusion.

  “A snake bit him!” a woman sobbed. “It was in the wood. He—”

  Vision blurring, Caleb grasped Mesha’s belt. “Help me up . . .” He had to get to the Tabernacle. He had to see the pole with the replica of the poisonous snake attached to it. The Lord had promised that anyone who was bitten would live if he simply looked at it!

  “Help him! Hurry!” Everyone cried out at once. His sons grabbed him by the arms and hauled him up. Mesha and Jesher supported him between them. He tried to walk, but his body betrayed him.

  “He can’t use his legs!”

  “He’s going to die!”

  “Lift him!”

  “Hurry!”

  Four of his sons carried him, shouting as they wove their way through the tents. It seemed to take them forever. Were they so far from the Tabernacle?

  “It’s Caleb!” people cried out in alarm.

  “Get back! Get out of our way!”

  Caleb struggled for air. “Lord, You promised . . .” He could say no more.

  “Father!” Mesha was crying.

  I have come too far, Lord, to die now. You promised.

  “Put him down!” someone said.

  His sons lowered him to his knees, but he couldn’t hold his head up. He couldn’t breathe to tell his sons how to help him.

  Oh, Lord, You know how many times we’ve broken our word to You, but You have never broken Your word to us. You said I would enter the land.

  Caleb crumpled face-first into the dust. Hands fell upon him again—so many hands, so many voices, shouting, crying.

  Pray. Someone, pray.

  “Caleb!” People surrounded them. “It’s Caleb!” They blocked the sun.

  “Get back!” Joshua’s voice this time. “Give him room to breathe.”

  “Lord, Lord . . .” Caleb recognized Hur’s voice, felt himself being rolled onto his back. “Don’t take him from us, Lord.”

  Caleb lay on his back, the cloud above him, anguished faces surrounding him. He couldn’t raise his head. He couldn’t raise his hand to grab hold of someone and pull himself up. His throat was closing, his lungs burning.

  He felt Hebron lift his shoulders and prop him up, bracing him. “Open your eyes, Grandfather. Look up. The pole is right before you.”

  “Breathe, Father! Breathe!”

  “He’s dead!” someone shrieked. “Caleb’s dead!”

  People wailed.

  With his last bit of strength, Caleb opened his eyes . . . but he could see nothing. Darkness closed in around him. “Look,” Moses had said. “Look and believe and you will live!” You are my salvation, Lord. You alone.

  Spears of light came, driving the darkness back. His vision cleared. Above him was the pole with the bronze snake.

  You are the Lord. You are Rapha, the Healer. Your Word is Truth.

  Caleb’s lungs unlocked and he drew in a deep breath. His heart slowed. His skin cooled. He came up through the shadow of death, shaking off the fettering hands until he was able to stand in the midst of the people. “Death, where is your sting?” he shouted.

  His sons laughed in relief and thanksgiving.

  Caleb raised his hands. “The Lord, He is God.”

  Shaken, tears in his eyes, Joshua cried out with him. “The Lord, He is God!”

  Those surrounding them joined in shouting praises to the Lord, who kept His word.

  They moved from Oboth to Iye-abarim in the desert facing Moab toward the sunrise. Then they moved on to Zered Valley and farther to camp along the Arnon River on the border between Moab and the Amorites. The Lord led them to Beer and gave them water so they could cross the desert to Mattanah and on to Nahaliel, Bamoth and the Valley of Moab where the top of Mount Pisgah overlooked the wasteland.

  Moses dispatched messengers to Sihon, king of the Amorites, requesting safe travel through his territory and also sent spies to Jazer. In response, Sihon mustered his entire army and marched out into the desert against Israel.

  This time, the Lord sent them out. “Put the Amorites to the sword and take over his land from the Arnon to the Jabbok!”

  At the blast of the shofar, Caleb raised his sword and let out a battle roar. Others joined in until the earth shook with the sound. Joshua led them into war. As they ran at the fortified city of Heshbon, Caleb shouted to his sons. “Destroy these people of Chemosh!” Chemosh, the false god who demanded the blood sacrifice of children.

  The Israelite boys and young men Caleb and Joshua had trained were now warriors eager to fight for the Lord their God. They overran Heshbon, breaking down its walls, smashing its idols and altars, and burning everything that was left. They did not withhold their hand, but cut down every citizen who remained to fight. From Heshbon, they moved on to the surrounding settlements, clearing out the Amorites from their towns and land. The vultures feasted.

  Survivors fled along the road to Bashan and enlisted the help of King Og, who marched his whole army out to meet Israel at Edrei.

  “Do not be afraid of them,” Moses shouted. “Fear not, for the Lord God has handed them over to you, Og and his whole army and his land!”

  When the day was over, not one Israelite had fallen, but Og, his sons, and his entire army lay dead upon the field of battle. Stained with blood, Caleb stood with his sons among the twisted, tangled bodies of the slain. He heard the jubilation of the men around him as they congratulated one another on their victory. Did they really believe their own strength had brought victory?

  Caleb looked at the young men he had trained and wanted to grab them by the throat. They now knew how to fight, and they had the will to destroy. But they were forgetting the most important lesson he had tried to drum into their thick heads every day from the time they began training: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength!

  Panting, Caleb drove his spear deep into the earth that now belonged to Israel. Thrusting his hands into the air, he shouted with all his might, “Lord! Lord! All praise to the Lord!”

  His sons were the first to join in. One by one, others took up the cry until the sound swelled by thousands.

  Make them remember, Lord. Write the truth upon their hearts.

  Israel camped on the plains of Moab along the Jordan across from Jericho. Caleb heard reports that Balak, king of Moab, was gathering forces and sending out messengers to Midian and other peoples of Canaan. “He intends to make an alliance with neighboring nations to keep us out.”

  “He won’t succeed,” Caleb vowed, pacing in front of his tent. He couldn’t put his worry into words, and Joshua would wait upon Moses to make a decision. “I don’t trust the Midianites. Something is wrong. I feel it.”

  “What?”

  “They’re too friendly.”

  “They are related to Moses’ family.”

  Caleb knew as well as everyone else that Moses’ wife Zipporah had been a Midianite, and her father, Jethro, had been a chieftain. When the Lord had brought the Israelites out of Egypt, Je
thro had met Moses at the Mountain of God and returned to him Zipporah and Moses’ two sons. Jethro had even advised Moses on selecting men from among the tribes to help him judge the birthing nation. A wise man, Jethro.

  “Jethro was a man of honor, Joshua, but Jethro is long dead. Zipporah is not even a memory to these people, and Moses’ sons are trained up in the ways of the Lord. They have nothing in common with their relatives who bow down to Baal.”

  “You judge them harshly, Caleb. Moses says to treat them as brothers.”

  “The women do not act like sisters. Have you sent anyone to see what’s going on in Shittim?”

  Joshua frowned. “No.”

  “Perhaps you should. Perhaps you should discuss these concerns with Moses. Perhaps he should pray and ask God why these Midianites are so friendly and if we should have commerce with them.” He had failed to keep the impatience out of his voice.

  Joshua glowered. “Moses is our leader. Not I.”

  “Does that mean you can’t think for yourself?” Caleb watched the color surge into Joshua’s face and his eyes darken. “Some of the men are leaving camp and going over to the Midianite settlements. Did the Lord tell us to mingle with these people? At one time, a long time ago, Moses had reason to trust the Midianites. I am asking if they are trustworthy now.”

  “If an opportunity arises, I will ask.”

  “Make the opportunity!”

  Caleb left before he said harsher words. He called his sons together and their sons. “You will not talk with the Midianites or have anything to do with them.”

  “Has Moses ruled on the matter?”

  Caleb turned to Ardon. “I have ruled on this matter, and I am your father.”

  They had learned not to argue with him. No further questions were asked.

  But others training with Caleb’s sons did as they pleased, spending their leisure hours visiting with Midianites. They brought back stories of how friendly and how beautiful the young women of Midian were. Moses had married one, after all. Was it any wonder they were so attracted? And the feasting that went on beneath the spreading oaks was unlike anything they had experienced in their desert life. Caleb came upon young men gathered tightly, whispering, laughing, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “You should come and see for yourselves.”