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Topic: STIR (11/12/15)
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TITLE: The Queen of Heaven�s Fruit | Previous Challenge Entry
By Gary Ritter
11/16/15 -
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It’s said that Yahweh decreed it a sin to use human waste to cook food. It’s barely dry before I have to use it. As my tiny reserve of food has dwindled I have less fuel to use.
The kettle contains the final turnip I’ve been hoarding. I stir the pieces I’ve cut to extract its flavor. I hate turnips. What I wouldn’t give for a morsel of meat. My five children are gathered round me: the older ones are eight, six, and four. The toddler being watched by his older sister is two. The baby lying listlessly nearby is barely a year. He no longer has the strength to suckle. But what milk do I have to give?
I no longer have a husband. He died in one of the many battles against the Chaldeans. King Zedekiah said surely that battle would cause Judah to prevail, but the siege continued – we’ve now endured it for sixteen months – and the famine grows worse. I’ve become desperate. How will I feed my children, let alone myself?
The turnip is bland. With no salt I can’t disguise my disgust. The older children receive turnip-flavored liquid in their bowls plus a small chunk of the root. I mash up the baby’s piece. He has no use for the taste either, but I force it down his throat. He chokes and wants to spit it out. I refuse to let him. Once I’ve also eaten I instruct the children to wait while I forage through the city for our next meal.
Jerusalem is filled with people who groan in the pain of hunger. I pass by many who sit staring at the ground, waiting to die. Why has the Lord our God treated us like this? He must enjoy our suffering to allow this travesty to continue.
My neighbor would dance before her altar to the queen of heaven if she had the strength. She would light a fire in worship if she could. As it is she bows down before the silver idol she places in a spot of honor and beseeches her god to have mercy.
In my search for our next meal I come upon the Prophet Jeremiah who has continued to cry out to the people. He condemns our rebellious ways and the disobedience by which each of us has provoked Yahweh to anger. I’ve grown so tired of hearing him again and again tell us how wicked we are. What is so evil in desiring to live a good life and enjoy the pleasures of it? Of course none of us have close to anything good to celebrate in these desperate times.
My quest is fruitless. No one has anything to give or sell. We each must completely fend for ourselves. Zedekiah still eats, so it is said, but even his reserves are nearly gone. As I return to my family I see several people committing an atrocity. I can no longer be shocked and begin in my final steps home to consider doing it myself.
A sleepless night convinces me I have no choice. I start a meager fire. My heart breaks, but I soon harden it with the reality of what I otherwise face. I tell my children, “Go inside our home. Leave your baby brother with me.” They are good children and they obey.
Oh, that the Lord had been merciful to us, His people! But He has no use for us. We are dead to Him. Perhaps Jeremiah was right. It doesn’t matter. Time is short. The hour is late. Our city will soon fall. The enemy will take us away.
My knife is sharp. I do what I must and soon the aroma in the kettle rises. My stomach turns but I think of the necessity. I stir the pieces of meat wishing I had a turnip to make a more full-bodied stew.
The children eat and are satisfied. They ask, “Where is baby?” I tell them, “Be thankful for what you have.”
Later, I contemplate our next meal. My toddler plays beside me.
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I hope it rates well.
Hope this makes the EC list.
God bless~