Rachel (37 page)

Jacob lay awake long after Rachel returned to her tent to stay with Joseph lest he awaken and fear her absence. His body ached with weariness, and yet anticipation of the future kept his mind churning with possibilities. What would his father say to him? Was his mother well? Was Deborah still living? He had had
little word of them during his stay with Laban, the last message coming over a year before. Surely he would see them again soon.

But as the night sounds settled into the quiet that preceded the dawn, Jacob dreamed of Esau, not his father. All the anger and grappling they had done as children, all the ways Jacob had deceived his brother came to him in memories he had long tried to suppress. The rift between himself and Esau could cause serious problems for him as he entered his father’s camp.

Did Esau still reside with their parents? Had he taken over his father’s affairs in Jacob’s absence? What would cause him to give up the right to control them now, if he had? Esau had two wives and several sons when Jacob left him, and he had added at least one more wife after Jacob fled, if the gossip was true. No doubt the man had probably fathered more sons during the ensuing years. But was he well? Did he have livestock and servants as Jacob had?

The vision of the angels that had met him hours before filled the place where the memories of Esau lingered. And with the vision came the sense of his own unworthiness and the weight of the guilt he had carried for years.

He awoke with a start, sweat beading his skin. God had not spoken in words when He’d sent the angels to Mahanaim, but His guidance could not be more clear.

Jacob must reconcile with Esau. Before he returned to his father.

The thought made his insides quiver. Sleep would not return this night.

“But why, Jacob? Wouldn’t it be better to avoid trouble than to search for it head-on?” Rachel’s words raised his own doubts the following day when he spoke to his wives after the morning meal.

“I would love to avoid facing my brother, particularly when
he left me with the threat to end my life, but it seems this is the path God has led me to.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, wishing he could have avoided this conversation. But his wives must be told what lay ahead. He just didn’t expect Rachel’s gaze to hold such fear. Perhaps he had spoken too warily of Esau in the past.

“I think if God is leading you to meet your brother, then you must do as He says.”

He turned at Leah’s voice and assessed her. Were her thoughts truly her own, or was she making the suggestion to increase her sister’s fear? But no. Leah feared Adonai. She would have spoken from her heart for Him, not in meanness to her sister. Surely such jealousies were long past.

Rachel touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her, and he wondered by the scowl lines along her brow whether that last thought was true. “But think of the children, Jacob. Wouldn’t you be putting them—putting all of us—in danger if Esau were invited to our camp? If he comes alone, then he will fear for his own life. But if he comes with his sons as my father just did, they could be armed as my father’s sons surely were, and attack while we are sleeping.”

Her fears were not unfounded, but if he listened, if he allowed her fears to become his, he would shrink back from what he knew he must do. Hadn’t the angels of God just met him? Surely Adonai would be with him. He must trust that He would protect him, if this indeed was His plan.

But was this His plan? The doubts floated near him like pestering insects as he listened to the arguments back and forth between Rachel and Leah.

“I understand your fears, and I will do all in my power to keep you safe,” he said, no longer able to bear their bickering. “But I believe this is the right thing to do, and I must do it.” His tone was sharper than he intended, but the words had their desired effect.

Rachel gave a slight nod. “As you say, my lord.” Her tone held constraint, and he regretted that he could not be more reassuring.

“Adonai will be with us,” Leah said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. He met her gaze and for the first time felt gratitude for her faith, for her purpose in his life.

He smiled his response and thanked them both. As they went back to their daily tasks, he walked toward the herds to speak to his chief steward. He would find out where Esau now resided and send messengers to greet him, seeking audience.

Then he would see what God would do.

29

“We found Esau living in the land of Seir as you had discovered, my lord,” one of Jacob’s young male servants said a few weeks later. “And we repeated the words you told us to say—how you have been staying with Laban until now and have cattle and donkeys, sheep and goats, menservants and maidservants. We told him that you were sending the message to find favor in his eyes, just like you said.”

Rachel looked from the messenger to Jacob, saw his stiff shoulders, his tense jaw. Her own heart beat to an anxious rhythm, and her breath was unsteady in her chest.

“What answer did he give you?” Jacob’s brows drew down, the worry lines clearly evident beneath his striped turban. His knuckles whitened on the top of his staff.

“He said he is coming to meet you, and four hundred men are with him.” This from the same messenger, but the other men with him nodded in agreement.

“Four hundred?” Jacob’s voice was low, barely a whisper. His hand trembled in its grip, and it took all in Rachel’s power not to rush to him, to hold him up. But her own knees wobbled, and a sudden pall fell over the group.

“So many.” Jacob looked about for a place to sit, and his men took his arms, guiding him to the stones set about the
campfire. One of the men offered him a drink from their skin of water, and he took it, though some of the water sloshed from his shaking. What could they do? What could they possibly do against four hundred men?

“It’s the size of a raiding party,” Omid said, sitting across from him. “We have enough men to stand against him, my lord. They are not trained in battle, but we have surely faced many a predator against the flocks and herds. We could go on ahead and meet him before he ever gets to the women and children.”

Rachel forced strength into her limbs, taking comfort in the steward’s words. She moved closer, seeking a way to join Jacob, to be a silent comfort at his side. She stood in his line of vision, but his gaze seemed to stretch beyond her as though he was seeing into another time or place.

The steward cleared his throat and sought to regain Jacob’s attention. “My lord?”

Jacob shook his head as if to clear it and looked at the man, not acknowledging Rachel.

“Shall I gather the servants and prepare to battle him?”

Jacob stroked his beard. When had the streaks of silver cropped in among the hairs? He had always seemed so full of vigor, nearly invincible to her. But right now he looked like the years had suddenly aged him, and the fear, her fear, had overtaken him.

Regret filled her, and she moved closer, slipping into the seat at his side. He finally sensed her presence and looked at her with an expression she could not read. He took her hand, and his was cold to her touch. He did not speak for a lengthy moment. At last he faced his steward.

“We will divide the camp into two groups. The men who can handle a sling or a sword shall be in the first group, with some also in the second to protect the women and children. If Esau attacks one group, the group that is left may escape.” He drew in a ragged breath, then lowered his head into his hands.

“It will be as you say, my lord,” the steward said. “Do not worry. We will move quickly. The groups will be separated by nightfall.”

Jacob looked up and nodded, the lines of distress and fear evident in his face. The men left to do his bidding, leaving Rachel beside him. They sat in silence as the women and children slowly gathered around him, aware of the silence, of Jacob’s fear.

He stood at last, leaning heavily on his staff to address them. “Gather everything and pack the camels. We will move across the river by nightfall.” His gaze took in the group, sorrow gracing his words, his gaze. He turned and walked abruptly to his tent, leaving them behind him.

The wind picked up, whipping Jacob’s cloak against his body as he walked toward his tent like a drunken man. He lifted the flap, letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior, glad that he had failed to lift the sides at dawn lest his wives and sons see his misery. Lest they taste his fear.

He stumbled to the cushions and the colorful woven mats that covered the floor, gifts from each of his wives to brighten this receiving room. They had outdone themselves trying to create the finest work for him, and he had gladly praised the work of their hands. Would they live to do so again? To create, to build, to share in his days?

Oh, God!
He couldn’t bear to lose Rachel! And if he thought on it a moment, Leah either. They had become his life, his heart. Even his slave girls Bilhah and Zilpah were his, had borne him children. Would Esau come and destroy all he had been given, all he had built?

The fear moved through him, a living thing, a snake slithering through the dry places in his soul.
Your brother Esau
is consoling himself with the thought of killing you.
His mother’s words, long thought a distant memory, sounded in his ear like
she stood with him in the room.
When your brother is no longer angry with you
and forgets what you did to him, I’ll send
word for you to come back from there.
But word had never come.