Daughter of Deliverance (27 page)

“Ardon,” she called out and ran to him.

He turned to her and said, “What is it, Rahab? You look worried.”

“It's about Othniel.”

“You heard about that? I suppose everyone has. Soldiers don't forget a thing like that. A man can be very bad, but if he stays and fights, he's accepted. That's all we have to depend on when we're in battle—the fellow on our left and the fellow on our right. Othniel ruined himself forever by running away.”

“I'm so sorry for him.”

“Save your grief for somebody else. Some of our men probably lost their lives because he left his place.”

“Don't you ever forgive?” Rahab demanded suddenly.

“He's no man, Rahab. Forget about him.”

“I feel sorrier for you than I do for him. You have no gentleness and no forgiveness, no goodness in you.”

Her words sparked an angry reaction in Ardon, and he said, “Be quiet, woman! You don't know what you're talking about! The kind of life you've led, you're not fit to judge anybody else!”

“I did lead a bad life, but I've learned about Jehovah. I've learned that He's forgiving.”

“He's also a God of judgment.” Ardon's words were hard, and his eyes even harder. “I hope,” he said, “that God strikes me dead before I fail Him and my family like Othniel has.”

He turned and walked off, his back stiff. Rahab watched him go with grief in her heart. She found that she had spoken the truth. “He's worse off than Othniel. He's hard and has no pity on anyone. Othniel may lack a lot of things, but at least he has a heart.”

Battle had become a way of life for Israel ever since crossing the Jordan. The battle of Jericho had been but the opening of a curtain on the great drama which they now participated in. Every day was filled either with a battle, preparing for one, or recuperating from one. Wounded men were brought in and had to be cared for, and burying the dead was a day-by-day occurrence. The wailing of women weeping for their husbands or brothers or sons had become so common in the camp that it was like any other part of their daily lives.

For Rahab the struggles were not as hard, for she had no relatives to lose in battle. But despite that, she still was caught up in the daily life of the camp. It was a common sight to see Rahab helping with the wounded, and she gained some reputation as a healer. She was especially good at comforting the families of those who had lost their men. There was something gentle and compassionate in her countenance that gave the people confidence in her.

During this period Rahab was constantly concerned about Othniel. As the days went on in the seemingly endless fight, she thought about him more and more. At night she would often dream of the young man, and a feeling slowly grew in her that she somehow should be a help to him. She had not seen him at all lately, for he had left the camp.

One early afternoon the feeling that she should do something about Othniel grew stronger, and finally she could no longer ignore it. She made her way to Phinehas's tent and found him instructing a group of young men. She waited patiently without interrupting, and finally, when Phinehas dismissed his class, she approached and bowed low before him. “Master, may I speak with you?”

“Come in, Rahab,” Phinehas said. “I've just finished a class. Here, sit down and tell me what you've been doing.” Phinehas smiled. “I hear good things of how you are attending the wounded and comforting the survivors of those who were lost in battle. That is a good thing.”

“I wish I could do more. It grieves me that the men of Israel are being lost.”

“Yes, it is a sad thing”—Phinehas nodded—“but it is the price we must pay.” An odd expression crossed the priest's face, and he shrugged his thin shoulders. “Our people expect to walk into a land of milk and honey and have it handed to them on a silver platter. But Moses knew better than that. I myself heard him talk many times about the battles that were sure to come. Very few things in this life come easily.”

The two sat there talking, and finally Rahab brought up the subject that had become so pressing to her. “I've been concerned about Othniel, Phinehas.”

“I can understand that. I feel the same way.”

“He needs a friend. He's lost everything.”

“Indeed he has. It's always a shame to see a young person throw away great potential. Othniel could be almost anything he wants. He has so many fine qualities.”

“Why has he thrown them away?”

“Who can say why a person does such a thing? One man goes right and serves God and is faithful, while another takes the wrong turn. Each of us every day are making choices like that.”

“Do you know where he is? I haven't seen him since he left the camp.”

“Oh yes. He's not far away. The rumors come drifting in.” Phinehas shrugged. “There's a local tribe that stays on the outskirts of our nation. They are scavengers, more or less, dwellers in tents. Raise a few cattle and sheep. Not an admirable people, but they've taken him in, I hear.” He looked at her keenly and said, “I thought that I should go, but I've neglected it. I think it would be a good thing, however, if you would go talk to him. Maybe you can have some influence on him.”

Rahab smiled. “I don't know whether I can or not, but I can never forget how he and Ardon brought us out of Jericho. They saved our lives.”

“Well, it was only right. You saved their lives first. If you find him, tell him that I still care for him and value his friendship. Try to do something for him. He has so many fine qualities, and he's throwing them all away.”

****

As Rahab came to the village where Phinehas said she would find Othniel, she felt a sense of disgust. The children were ragged and thin, almost like miniature wild dogs. They glared at her suspiciously, and one of them picked up a rock and threw it at her. It missed, and she ignored the boy.

An old woman was stirring something in a pot. She was dressed in rags and had very few teeth. She bared her yellow fangs that were left at Rahab as she approached. “What do you want?”

“I'm looking for a man named Othniel.”

The woman laughed a high-pitched wavering sound. “Oh yes, the drunkard. He's over there. You won't get any sense out of him, though. We thought he'd help us, a strong young man like that, but he's no good.”

“Thank you.” Rahab nodded. She made her way to the tent that the old woman had indicated. Ignoring the stares of other villagers, she ducked low and went inside, and for a moment had to stop while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Finally she was able to discern a figure lying next to the wall of the tent. “Othniel?” she called.

“What…who is it?”

“It's me, Othniel. Rahab.”

Her eyes had adjusted better now, and she moved closer as Othniel sat up. In the darkness of the tent she could see his haggard features indistinctly. He obviously had not cut his hair or bathed or taken any care of himself personally. A rancid odor rose from him, and his voice was thick as he spoke. “What do you want, Rahab?” He reached over and picked up a wineskin, tilted it, and she watched as he squirted a thin stream of liquid into his mouth. He swallowed it and then sat there staring at her dully.

“I've been worried about you for a long time, so I came to see how you were.”

“You can see. How do you like it?”

Rahab knelt down so she was on the same level with Othniel. Flies were swarming in the tent. One of them lit on his upper lip and began crawling, but he did not even bother to brush it away. He was that drunk.

“I've come to see if I can't persuade you to come back home.”

“Who sent you?”

“No one. I came because—”

“I know it wasn't my uncle or my cousins. They hate the sight of me.”

“No they don't. You shouldn't talk like that. Nothing would please them more than to see you come home.”

“I'm sure they'd love to have a drunk come home and live off of them.”

The bitterness was harsh in Othniel's speech, and his eyes were grim. He sat there listening as Rahab tried to convince him that he was capable of better things. Finally he shook his head. “Go away, Rahab. I'm no good, and I never was.”

“There's good in you. I've seen it.”

“Well, I haven't seen it, and Ariel hasn't seen it.”

“People can change, Othniel.”

“I'm glad you believe that, but I don't.”

“I have to believe it, because I've changed.”

Othniel took another long drink of the wine. It was almost flat, and he frowned and hurled it across the tent. “Well, maybe you have, but I've had plenty of chances to change and I never have.”

“I think it was Jehovah who helped me to change. The Lord has been working in my heart, and I think He wants to work in yours.”

“Jehovah doesn't care anything about me.”

“You know better than that. Phinehas says that Jehovah loves everyone.”

“How could He love a drunk?”

“How could He love a harlot?” Rahab said sharply; then her voice softened. “That was what I was, but He's preserved me. He used you and Ardon to bring me out safely from that city with my family. And since then He's blessed me greatly. He wants to do the same thing for you.” She leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder. “Jehovah loves you, and I believe in you.”

Othniel fell silent while Rahab continued to speak, pleading with him. She saw, after a while, that there were tears in his eyes. He did not attempt to wipe them away, and they encouraged her. “Our God is a loving and forgiving God. That's His nature, Othniel. You know that far better than I.”

“That may be true for you but not for me.”

“It's true for everyone.”

“Rahab…I can't go back again. I'd be too ashamed.”

“Shame is sometimes a good thing. We have to go through that after we have sinned, but as we bring our shame to God, He forgives us. You must come back, Othniel. You have to.”

“I can't do it, Rahab, I can't!”

Rahab then sat down on the floor of the tent. “Othniel, you may as well make up your mind to do it. I'm going to stay here until you call upon God and then go back to your home. Now, unless you throw me out, I'm going to pray and ask Jehovah God to forgive you for your sins and to give you a new heart.” Without preliminary she began praying. She had prayed often enough for Othniel in the privacy of her tent and oftentimes out tending her new flock. Now she poured her heart out to God, saying, “God, save my friend from what he has become. You're the great, the almighty God. You delivered a whole people out of Egypt. You can deliver this one person from the bondage that has come upon him. Open the door, Lord, and let him come out….”

Rahab did not know how long she prayed for Othniel, sitting and weeping in the gloomy darkness of that stinking tent. Finally, when she lifted her head and wiped her eyes, she saw Othniel was sitting up straighter. He was looking at her in a dazed manner, but his voice was clearer.

“I'm glad you came,” he whispered. “While you were praying I made a decision. I made a vow to God. I'm going to give myself to Jehovah and be what He wants me to be.”

“Oh, Othniel, how wonderful!” Rahab exclaimed. “Come. Now you've got to go home with me.”

She stood to her feet, and Othniel slowly followed suit. He looked down at her and smiled shakily. “It's going to be hard. Nobody's going to believe me.”

“They'll believe what you
show
them, and you've made a vow. Now, let's see what God can do.”

****

Caleb and his family had enjoyed a fine meal of roasted lamb cooked with spices and fresh bread. There were also a few wild greens Ariel and the servants had gathered. Now Caleb, Ardon, and Ariel were sipping wine and nibbling at the grapes that were on a silver dish.

Caleb was speaking while Ardon and Ariel listened. “The battles aren't going to get any easier. As a matter of fact, they're probably going to get harder.”

“But we've won every battle,” Ardon said.

“Yes. And we've lost good men. There are at least ten more kingdoms that have to be conquered before we possess this land, but we can do it. This one coming up is going to be especially hard, though. You'll have to encourage your men greatly.”

Ardon nodded. “I'll be—” He broke off at the sound of footsteps outside, and then a man entered the tent. Ardon stared at Othniel, and his glance drew the eyes of Caleb and Ariel. “Well,” Ardon said harshly. “I'm surprised you had the gall to come back, Othniel.”

Caleb got right to his feet and stared at Othniel. His nephew's face was drawn and he looked thin, but his eyes were clear.

Ariel was watching also, and there was a great bitterness in her. This man had disappointed her more than any other person. “Why have you come back, Othniel?” she asked. “Did you run out of wine?”