This isn’t the rapid movement of electrical signals because of faulty wiring.
His Dad’s great idea pushed him to the edge. And he’s only thirteen!
Jittery Jordan stares at his textbooks. His iPod lost its glitters of glory.
Thinking sketches all over his puckered face—devising how he can get out of it. His voice quivers with whiny nervousness. Annoyance flares up whenever his excited younger brothers and sisters remind him of Dad’s splendid idea.
Dad’s command must come to pass, regardless.
It trembles Jordan to think about Dad’s bar-mitzvah-istic tendencies regarding him. Thirteen, Biblically a man now. His fears are legitimate, but totally unnecessary. Who wouldn't be afraid? When in this day and age, male thirteeners believe that the world owes everything to them. And that they seem to behave dying to fit into what their peers dictate.
I think, it’s packaged with every man’s make-up. The young man refuses to be swayed by a woman. His mother’s persuasions that his father came up with the wonderful idea.
“Dad’s silly notion hasn’t deluded me to thinking that it is, Mom.”
“Yeah, you’re entitled to your feelings, Son.”
“I’m draining. I’m at the end of my wits!”
“Of course not. Your mind’s still intact-- Thankfully.”
Jordan’s Mom, as submissive as she tries to be, conspires with his Dad’s brilliant idea.
“I can’t do it!”
“Jordan, given a month, you can do it.”
He felt alone in this journey of being thirteen. He’s gotta do what a man ought to do.
The jittery shakes want escape.
Thursday nights. The dreaded nights of all.
Jordan, the other man of the house leads Family devotions.
“Your Dad did not make a mistake in giving this task to you, Jordan”.
“Oh, Mom, I wish I didn’t have to do it.” His manly voice croaks.
“It’s good for the brain, Son. You’ll thank Dad for it someday.”
“D’yo need help?”
“Nah, I don’t need help.”
“Of course, you do. Just let me know.”
“Hrmph.” Jordan grunts louder than his usual burp (when he forgets his manners).
“I bought a bulk of books! Wait ‘til Dad finds out the bills!”
Jordan winces at Mom’s simplistic idea of studying. “You’re weird, Mom.”
“Mom, your books won’t help me.”
“’ course, they will! If you bang them on your head. You’ll be unconscious ‘til Thursday.”
“Oh, Mom!” Jordan concealed a burst of laughter. It wouldn’t be cool to laugh with Mom when he’s made up his mind that Dad’s plan isn’t gonna work.
“ Wow! Those books! Hebrew Concordance; Greek concordance of the New Testament; Lexicon, and Septuagint. They were on sale. Free shipping!”
“I don’t need ‘em”
Mom wouldn’t budge. She seems to be in outer space.
“I think ... hmmm,” Mom pinches and rubs her chin like an Edison who just discovered light bulb, tucked a waft of hair behind her ear, “these concordances, Lexicon,... Septuagint, are where you look at Bible words when you want to understand them better! “
“I only need my Bible, Mom.” Jordan whines.
“Dyo’ wanna borrow my Bibles? Eight different translations? Too bad you can’t understand my Jewish Bible version.”
“Uhm, no thanks, Mom. I only want my King James.”
“Okay, whatever suits you. By the way, have you written your notes yet?”
“I don’t need to write notes.”
“Okay.” Mom briskly walked to the kitchen.
“Oh, Son, you might want to study about what the Hebrew writers of the Bible were understanding when God spoke His Instructions to them to teach to us, Gentiles.”
“My English is fine, Mom.”
“In our morning reading of the Torah...oops, sorry, I mean Pentateuch, we’ve seen the Messiah spoken of by God.
“Hmmm?” Jordan comments.
“In Biblical history, everywhere, God speaks of Him. “Salvation” is written all over the Bible.”
“And God’s Instructions, prepares us, Jews and Gentiles, to love Him and practice our belief in Him, accordingly.”
“Was He a Jew, Mom?”
Jotham detected reverence in her voice “’Yeshua HaMashiach’ is what His mother called Him. ‘Salvation, the Anointed One of Israel.’ ”
“Where in the Bible does it say that?”
“D’you want to study its Hebraic origin and setting in the way God wants us to understand?”
“Pray that by Thursday you’d be able to explain why Jesus said such things to His brothers, the Jews.”
“It’s not that plain. It’s so complicated, Mom”
“God is gentle. He’s helped me undo my twenty-five years of relearning.”
“When did you start, Mom?”
“As a little child.”
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