The Strength Of His Hand Part 31

He left the lamp burning beside the dissected rat to keep the others at bay, but Iddina lay wide awake until dawn, stunned by the unfamiliar strength of his fear.

25.

"YOUR MAJESTY ... Your Majesty, wake up." Hezekiah opened his eyes to find General Benjamin crouching beside him, shaking him. "Are you awake, my lord?"

"Yes ... I guess so ..." But it took Hezekiah a few moments to shake off the fuzziness of sleep. When he did, he was startled to discover that he had fallen asleep leaning against the parapet on top of the city wall.

For the past five days since the a.s.syrians had surrounded Jerusalem, Hezekiah had barely slept. The a.s.syrians hadn't begun to attack the city yet. Instead, they sat in the valley looking up at the frightened people crowded on top of the walls-watching, waiting, playing their deadly game of nerves. The Rabshekah probably hoped his terrifying words would grow and swell in the Judeans' hearts like yeast in a batch of flour, until the pressure of their fear forced them to surrender.

Hezekiah had spent each day fasting, praying, walking among his people, encouraging them to trust G.o.d and not to surrender. He had spent the long nights on top of the city wall, unable to sleep, watching for the nightly signal fires, waiting for word that the Egyptians were coming, wondering what was happening to the rest of his nation. Late last night, exhaustion had caused him to fall asleep while looking down on the a.s.syrian camp.

Across the valley, a pale, cold sun struggled to rise behind the bank of clouds that hid the Mount of Olives from view. Hezekiah rolled his head to ease the stiffness in his neck. "Is it time for the morning sacrifice?" he asked, still dazed.

General Benjamin shook his head. "Not yet. But take a look down there, Your Majesty."

Hezekiah slowly pulled himself up until he could see over the parapet. His cramped body ached, and his sackcloth robe was damp with dew. Through the veil of fog that shrouded the valley, the earth had come alive with movement. He watched the swarming a.s.syrians for several long minutes before his exhausted mind fully grasped what he saw.

"They're leaving!" he said in astonishment. "The a.s.syrians are leaving!"

"Yes, it looks that way, Your Majesty."

"Praise G.o.d!" He slumped against the wall again. "Any idea why?" The general's face looked somber in spite of the good news, and Hezekiah felt a p.r.i.c.kle of fear. "Tell me what happened."

"The signal fire from Lachish never came last night. We think the city has fallen."

"Oh no. My brother?"

"We haven't heard from him. I'm sorry."

Hezekiah moaned. For the past five days he had received urgent messages from Gedaliah telling him that Lachish was under heavy enemy a.s.sault again. The a.s.syrian emperor had lied; he had pocketed the enormous bribe Hezekiah had paid, then renewed the attack on Lachish as well as besieging Jerusalem. But locked behind his own barred gates, Hezekiah had been powerless to help Gedaliah.

"Lachish is lost." He repeated the words, trying to comprehend the defeat of one of his strongest cities and his brother's certain death, trying to understand why Gedaliah and the elders of Lachish had wors.h.i.+ped a pagan sun G.o.d, long after the other cities of Judah had returned to Yahweh.

"But it still doesn't make sense," General Benjamin said suddenly. "Why would the Rabshekah and all these troops leave?Why wouldn't Emperor Sennacherib's forces join him here? Unless-"

"Yes! Unless Pharaoh's armies are finally coming!"

"Could it be a trick to get us to open the gates?"

Hezekiah stared into the misty valley, s.h.i.+vering in the wind and the light rain that had begun to fall. He watched the a.s.syrians withdraw with orderly precision. "I don't think it's a trick. It must be the Egyptians. And now that they've finally come, we need to pray that they drive the a.s.syrians all the way back to Nineveh. Come on."

As Hezekiah stood on the dais at the Temple a short time later, the morning seemed too gray and dismal to be a day of celebration and deliverance. The men crowding into the courtyard were subdued, as if afraid to believe that the siege was suddenly ending after only five days. Hezekiah found it difficult to comprehend, as well. Part of him wanted to leap and shout for joy, but he was still numb and exhausted, still too uncertain about the future and what the a.s.syrian withdrawal really meant.

As the priest prepared to slay the morning sacrifice, King Hezekiah stepped forward. He had arranged to read the liturgy to the people himself.

If the Lord had not been on our side

when men attacked us,

when their anger flared against us,

they would have swallowed us alive;

the flood would have engulfed us,

the torrent would have swept over us,

the raging waters would have swept us away.

Praise be to the Lord,

who has not let us be torn by their teeth.

We have escaped like a bird

out of the fowler's snare;

The snare has been broken,

and we have escaped.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

By the time the service came to an end, the sun had started breaking through the clouds at last. The people were beginning to comprehend the significance of their deliverance, and Hezekiah was certain that even the departing a.s.syrians could hear the Judeans' final shout of praise. He remained on the platform for several minutes, silently thanking G.o.d. Then, as he started down the walkway to the palace, he spotted Isaiah waiting for him.

"Praise G.o.d, Rabbi! They're gone, just as Yahweh promised!"

"Yes. And now that it's over, Your Majesty, I have a humble request to ask of you."

"What is it?"

"Would you honor me by joining my wife and me for the Pa.s.sover feast?"

Hezekiah was dumbstruck. "Pa.s.sover?"

"Yes. The eve of Pa.s.sover is three days away."

"With everything that's happened, I'd completely forgotten."

"Then would you do me this great honor?"

The rabbi's request was completely unprecedented. Even though Isaiah descended from royalty, it was no small matter to invite the king to your home. Dining at the king's table was a great honor, and for a moment Hezekiah considered reversing Isaiah's offer and inviting him to the palace. But Hezekiah had made no plans for the feast. It would be the first time he would celebrate Pa.s.sover without Hephzibah. He couldn't bear to face his memories or his loneliness.

"Yes, Rabbi. I would be honored to share the feast with you." He glanced at Shebna waiting for him at the end of the walkway and was grateful that he was no longer palace administrator. Shebna never would have approved of such an unorthodox invitation.

__________.

Eliakim waded through the crowd of wors.h.i.+pers with his father as they filed from the Temple. "I heard G.o.d promise that it would happen, Abba. With my own eyes I saw the a.s.syrians leave. But I still can't believe that it's true."

"Yes, praise G.o.d," Hilkiah murmured. "Praise G.o.d."

Eliakim wished he could run. "I can't wait to tell Jerusha! She'll be so relieved. Maybe everything can get back to normal."

"How is the baby this morning, son?"

Suddenly Eliakim's joy vanished. "He's the same. Not good. All night long I could hear him struggling to breathe. He's so weak he can barely eat. He tries to suck, then just gives up."

"G.o.d of Abraham, heal him," Hilkiah whispered.

"At least now ... at least with the a.s.syrians gone ... I mean, if he dies now..."

"You're not expecting him to die!"

"I honestly don't know how he's lived this long, Abba. But I was so afraid that he would die while the a.s.syrians were still here, and Jerusha would think they'd killed him, and ... and I don't want to lose her, too, Abba. Losing the baby will be bad enough."

"Why do you even talk about losing him? Pray that he'll live!"

Eliakim sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "He's so tiny-and so sick. Do you know he has never even cried? He doesn't have enough strength. It takes all his strength just to draw a breath."

Hilkiah stopped walking and rested his hand on Eliakim's arm. "Do you believe G.o.d can heal him, son?"

"I-I want to believe it, but-"

"But you still remember when your mother died."

"I don't understand why G.o.d sometimes answers prayers and other times He doesn't. I do believe in miracles, Abba. I've seen too many of them not to believe-Jerusha's escape, the tunnel, King Hezekiah's recovery, and how could anyone doubt G.o.d when he looks over that wall and sees the a.s.syrians retreating? G.o.d of Abraham, what a miracle!"

"But your son?"

"I'm afraid to ask. I'm so afraid that if G.o.d says no again ..."

"I understand. When your mother died it rocked my faith like a shepherd's hut in a windstorm."