Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: PROMISE (09/02/21)
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TITLE: Are You Sure? | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
09/04/21 -
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“Are you still dreaming about the promise?” she called, sweeping out the remnants of sand.
“I was so sure,” her husband said. “He went to such lengths to prove himself. All those oaths and details. All those rituals. The dream.”
The sigh matched her tone. “All I ask is that you stop stargazing and thinking things are going to change. Face it, we’re too old for this. We got you a son.” She turned back inside. “Let’s be satisfied. Sometimes a curse is stronger than a promise.”
The patriarch hoisted his wiry frame off the stool and shifted to lean against one of the trees. He waved at a lad feeding a goat at a tent no more than a stone’s throw away. “I’m more than satisfied to make this boy my heir but the Almighty has now marked us for himself and has promised more through you.”
Dozens of tents spread out alongside the hillside. Those who had committed themselves to this community of peoples worked as one to care and protect. All of them knew the promise. The woman was tired of the silent mockery as year after year passed. As baby after baby was born to others.
“Can a stone give birth to a river?” she asked. “Can the desert give birth to an ocean?”
The old man wrinkled his brows as he squinted into the distance. Like a mirage, three robed figures strode out of the patterns of rock and soil and stood nearby. Forcing his limbs forward, he raced to them and lowered himself in a bow. “Show me favor and accept my hospitality,” he said. “We have water to wash your feet. Come, rest out of the sun under my tree.”
The three laid aside their staffs, hunched down against the trees and waited.
Hurrying to the sheepskin domain, he got his wife’s attention. “Hurry, we have company. We need fresh bread. I’ll get a calf.”
The guests waited as the bread baked, the veal roasted, and the curds and milk was set out. The men ate and the old man stood by, waiting for the news the messenger were sure to have.
When the last bite was consumed, the leader of the trio looked in his direction. “Where’s Sarah?” he asked.
“In the tent behind you?” Abram replied.
“The promise will happen. She’ll have a son next year.”
The laughter from the entrance to the tent was no more than a whisper in a desert breeze.
“Why the laughter? Why the questioning?” the leader asked. “Is anything too hard for the LORD? I will be back next year and the promise will happen.”
The old woman stepped forward. “I didn’t laugh,” she said.
The leader stood. “Yes, you did.” He turned with his companions. “Now, should I tell you what else will happen? If you see this come true perhaps you will realize the power of my promise. Abram, you will become powerful and all nations will be blessed through you.” The men looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah. “When your children come, you will teach them the way of the LORD so they do what is right and just. The promise will happen.”
“What will you do?” Abram asked.
“The outcry against the cities has grown so great I will see the reality for myself.” Two of the messengers turned away and walked toward the settlements.
“Will you destroy the righteous with the wicked?” Abram asked. “Far be it from you. Won’t the judge of all the earth do right?”
“I will spare the whole for the few,” the LORD said.
And so the bartering on a promise began. “For 50. 45. 40. 30. 20. 10.”
“For the sake of ten, I will not destroy it.”
Early the next morning, Abram stood on the hill overlooking the plains. The dense smoke rising from the ruins told the story of the night before. And so the promise had been fulfilled. And so the promise yet to come would happen. That promise would birth all other promises.
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