Unashamed (9 page)

“You dare laugh?” Rahab smacked him on the back of his head. “If God can part the Red Sea, do you think that river will stop Him? He could dry it up with one breath! The only safe place outside the camp of Israel is right here where you’re sitting.” She took the jug and glared at her two brothers in frustration. Why wasn’t it as clear to them as it was to her? “God is coming! And you’d better be ready when He gets here!”

Jobab pushed his stool back and stood. He looked around the room at the storage jars, the rush mats stacked in the corner, the blankets piled on her bed. “What more do we need?”

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to still the trembling inside her. “Patience.” If the Israelites crossed the Jordan at this very moment, it would not be too soon for her.

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While the Israelites remained camped in Shittim, manna continued to rain down from heaven, though it lessened each day until only a soft sprinkling appeared like dew as the sun rose.

Salmon went down onto his knees with the thousands of other men, women, and children who gathered their share for the day. He made a cake of the coriander-like flakes of manna and placed it on the camp stove his parents had brought out of Egypt. He thought of his parents often now, praying he wouldn’t make the same mistakes, praying he would stand in faith, praying he would not weaken in the face of battling the enemy, praying he would be a man of God, not just a man.

Breathing in the wonderful, sweet aroma as the manna cake sizzled in olive oil, he took a pronged stick and carefully turned the cake. His stomach clenched with hunger. When the cake was finished, he rolled it up and sat back to eat it slowly, savoring its sweetness. Soon the manna would disappear altogether, for the people would have no need of it when they entered Canaan, a land of milk and honey. Milk meant herds of cattle and goats; honey meant blooming fruit trees, vines, and crops of grain and vegetables, foods his generation had heard of but had never tasted. The Lord had said they would take possession of orchards and vineyards they hadn’t planted, harvest the wheat and beans and lentils another nation had sown, shepherd herds and flocks left by the fleeing enemies of God. Yet Salmon couldn’t help but feel a deepening sadness.

He’d never known anything but the taste of manna. The first time he had tasted anything else was the day he and Ephraim had camped alongside the stream in Canaan, where they’d caught and roasted fish. Though the meal had been delicious, it couldn’t compare with what God had given them and what God would soon take away.

Salmon held the bread of heaven reverently. All his life he had taken it for granted; now he realized how precious it was. As he ate of it, tears came, for he knew this bread had come from the very hand of God, a free gift keeping him alive. Could there ever be anything as sweet? Could anything else be as nourishing?

Soon the people would cease to be children wandering in the desert and stand as men and women of God in the land of promise. And like mother’s milk, the manna would be taken from them. He and the others would plow, plant, tend herds and flocks, and harvest crops. They would have children, build homes, build cities.

Oh, God, keep us faithful!
he prayed.
Don’t let us again become whining infants! Don’t let us become arrogant in the victories You will give us. The sins of our fathers are ever before us. If only they could be wiped away once and for all time, so that we could stand in Your presence the way Adam and Eve did, when first You created them.

And the shofar blew, calling the people to gather.

The time had come to move forward and receive the gift God had so graciously prepared for them.

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Officers came through the camp, calling down the orders from Joshua. “When you see the Levitical priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord your God, follow them. Since you have never traveled this way before, they will guide you. Stay about a half mile behind them, keeping a clear distance between you and the Ark. Make sure you don’t come any closer.”

Salmon quickly took down his tent, rolled the leather around the poles, and secured it to his pack. He shouldered his load and stood waiting with thousands of others from the tribe of Judah. He felt a rush of strength and longed to run to the river, but he held his place, keeping the heat banked within him.

The Ark of the Covenant passed before them, and he felt tingling excitement in his soul. The priests carried the Ark toward the Jordan River. At the prescribed distance, the tribes began to follow. The land was alive with the moving populace, thousands walking with an assurance of victory.

They camped near the Jordan, and Joshua spoke to the people. “Purify yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do great wonders among you.”

Men separated from their wives and washed their garments. Salmon was among the multitude of men. He fasted from everything but the small portion of manna he had gathered that morning and spent the evening inside his tent, alone and in prayer.

When the sun rose, Salmon stood once again among the thousands, waiting to hear Joshua proclaim the Word of the Lord. “
Sons of Israel, come and hear the words of the Lord your God!
”

Salmon moved forward with his brothers and cousins so they were shoulder to shoulder. Joshua raised his hands, his voice strong and carrying to the farthest members of the congregation. “Come and listen to what the Lord your God says. Today you will know that the living God is among you. He will surely drive out the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites. Think of it! The Ark of the Covenant, which belongs to the Lord of the whole earth, will lead you across the Jordan River! The priests will be carrying the Ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth. When their feet touch the water, the flow of water will be cut off upstream, and the river will pile up there in one heap.”

At Joshua’s command, the priests carrying the Ark started out once again toward the river.

Salmon stretched his neck to watch. His heart pounded. He feared God as much as he loved Him. Whenever the Ark was carried before Salmon, he trembled with an inexplicable excitement. His skin tingled. The hair on the back of his neck rose. He’d grown up seeing the cloud lift from the tabernacle, giving the sign that the people were to move their camp. He’d seen the pillar of fire at night. But he hadn’t been born yet when his people left Egypt. He hadn’t seen the miracles done there or the parting of the Red Sea so that the Israelites could cross on dry land. He trembled, his breathing shaky, anticipating how the Lord would enable His people to cross the rushing torrent of the Jordan.

The Ark was far ahead of the people. Was God showing them that He didn’t need their protection? Had the people been allowed, they would have clustered tightly around the Ark as it moved, but it was out there ahead, the gold shimmering in the sunlight and showing them the way. As they came closer to the river, everyone grew quieter. No one moved, no one spoke as they watched and waited for the command to go forward.

The priests reached the bank of the Jordan. They didn’t hesitate but walked straight into the flooded Jordan. And as they did, there was a roaring sound such as Salmon had never heard in all his life. The hair stood on the back of his neck as he saw the water draw back, a hiss of steam billowing up. Walking in faith, the priests carried the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord to the center of the riverbed and stopped there, planting their feet. The golden Ark glistened in the morning sunlight.

And thousands upon thousands followed.

When the people were safely across the river, Joshua announced that the Lord had told him to choose twelve men, one from each tribe. As head of the tribe of Judah, Caleb called out the name of the man who would represent them. Jedidiah pressed forward. He was easily seen, taller and stronger than all the rest, and the men of Judah slapped him on the back and gave him room to walk to the front of the tribe and stand beside Caleb. The old man put his hand on Jedidiah’s shoulders, spoke to him softly, and released him. Jedidiah ran ahead and joined the eleven other tribal representatives near Joshua.

“Go into the middle of the Jordan, in front of the Ark of the Lord your God,” Joshua called out to the twelve representatives of the tribes. “Each of you must pick up one stone and carry it out on your shoulder—twelve stones in all, one for each of the twelve tribes. We will use these stones to build a memorial. In the future, your children will ask, ‘What do these stones mean to you?’ Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the Lord’s covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a permanent memorial among the people of Israel.”

Joshua and the twelve men strode forward.

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Rahab heard someone screaming and ran to the window. Leaning out, she saw a soldier running up the road.
“They’re coming! They’re coming! The Israelites are heading for the river!”
On the east side of the Jordan, a cloud of dust rose as a mass of people headed for the river, but what caught her attention was something ahead of them, something that shone brightly and sent shafts of light in all directions! Was it the Ark of the Lord that she had heard about?

Her lips parted as she saw two lines of steam shoot into the air and move back from the small figures now moving down into the riverbed. Her skin tingled as a rush of emotions took hold of her. Fear. Exaltation. Awe. She was laughing and crying at the same time. Her heart galloped. She leaned so far out the window, she almost toppled.
A miracle.
She was seeing a miracle! “What a mighty God He is!” she cried out as men shouted from the ramparts.

Steam continued to rise, forming a cloud over the river. Panic-stricken, people outside the walls were screaming and running toward the city like a stampeding flock. Did she hear, or only imagine, the sound of a ram’s horn? The army of Israelites was crossing the Jordan. There were thousands upon thousands of them spreading out across the plains of Moab. They were as many as the stars in the heavens. They moved quickly but in order.

Rahab looked away and craned her neck toward the grove of palms. “Come, Father, come on. Where are you?” Farmers and workers were running toward Jericho. She slapped her hands on the windows, fighting against her impatience. Finally she saw him. Her mother followed, and both were struggling beneath burdens of belongings.

“Leave everything!”
Rahab shouted.
“Come as you are!”

It was useless to yell. They couldn’t hear her above the din of panicked citizens descending upon the already overcrowded gates. She waved frantically. Her father saw her but dropped nothing. Tiring, her mother slid her heavy bundle to the ground and began dragging it behind her.

“
Run!
” Rahab gestured wildly. “Everything you need is here!”

They plodded along, stubbornly hanging on to everything they owned. Rahab cursed in frustration. A crowd was pressing through the gates. Someone was shrieking. Someone had probably fallen and was now being trampled. They sounded like a mob of wild animals, fists flying as those who were stronger tried to beat their way ahead of everyone else.

Someone banged on her door. “Rahab!” Mizraim called. “Let us in!”

She yanked the bar up and opened the door so that he and his wife, Basemath, could enter. They were carrying their two children. Jobab and his wife, Gowlan, were hurrying down the street, shouting for their children to hurry ahead. They all looked wild-eyed and pale with fear, and everyone carried something. Rahab shook her head at their choices as they entered her house: a pot; a painted urn; a basket containing a kohl bottle, tweezers, an ointment box, jewelry, and a horn of oil.

Mizraim’s baby boy screamed until Basemath sat on Rahab’s bed and nursed him. When footsteps raced across Rahab’s roof, Mizraim’s daughter dropped the urn. It shattered on the floor. Mizraim shouted at her. Crying hysterically, the little girl ran to her mother and clung to her.

“Hush, Mizraim. You’re behaving as badly as those madmen at the gate. You’re only frightening the children more.” Rahab scooped up the little girl and hugged her. “We’re all safe here, Bosem.” She kissed her cheek. “Everything will be all right.” She waved her hand, beckoning the others. “Come on, children. All of you. I have some things for you.” She set Bosem on her feet and put out a basket of painted sticks and knucklebones. “Awbeeb, my sweet, come play with your cousins.”

Rahab’s sisters, Hagri and Gerah, and their husbands, Vaheb and Zebach, arrived with their children in tow. “People are going mad out there!” Seeing the others, the boys and girls joined their cousins in their games of knucklebones and pickup sticks.

“Where are Father and Mother?” Jobab said.

“I lost sight of them when they joined the crowd at the gate,” Rahab answered, nodding toward the window as she took the baby from Basemath. “See if you can spot them, Mizraim.” She lifted the child to her shoulder and held him close, patting his back and pacing.

“I heard the guards are going to close the gate,” Jobab said.

“They’ll let everyone in,” Rahab said calmly. “The king will want every able-bodied worker inside before the gates are closed. If his army perishes, he’ll have the citizenry standing on the walls and throwing rocks.” She was angry that her father hadn’t done as she told him. He and her mother should have dropped everything and come running with the first cry of that soldier running up the road. Had they listened, they would have been spared the violence at the gate. She hoped they wouldn’t be hurt in the pushing and shoving mob trying to get inside the city walls.

“I’ll go out and find them,” Mizraim said. “Bar the door behind me, Zebach.”