As Sure as the Dawn by Francine Rivers
“Tell Atretes I’ll make camp and keep watch,” Theophilus said, as he hefted the men’s gear onto his back.
She glanced at him, embarrassed that she had forgotten his presence. He grinned wryly. “It’s been quite a day.”
“Thank you,” she said, quick tears of gratitude filling her eyes. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for praying for me,” she said hoarsely, unable to say more.
Dropping his burdens, he held her briefly. “I’ve been praying for both of you for a long, long time.” As she settled before him, he patted her cheek as he would that of a daughter. “Your husband gave you a command to wash your tunic.”
“And I will obey,” she said, eyes shining. She took one of his hands in both of hers. “I love you, Theophilus, and thank God you’re my brother. What would have happened . . .” her voice trailed off.
“Go, beloved. Your husband is waiting.”
Blinking back tears, she smiled and turned away.
* * *
Theophilus shouldered the provisions and watched her walk down to the spring where Atretes played with Caleb. She waded in, and Atretes came to meet her. Bending down, he kissed her.
As he watched, Theophilus felt an inexplicable loneliness. There were times when his solitary life chafed, like now, when he felt cut off from Rizpah and Atretes because of the holy bond that would change their relationship to one of intimacy. He had watched these two burn for one another from Ephesus to Germania and prayed they wouldn’t be drawn into sin. God knew their natures and their needs. He had given them their desires and made provision for them. They were married.
For himself, soldiers weren’t allowed to take wives. The restriction had rubbed on occasion. Before he had been saved by Jesus, he had burned and given in to sin. Women had been a primary pleasure in his life.
All that had changed when he had become a Christian.
Now that he was retired from the army, life would be different. He could take a wife, but he didn’t think it was in God’s plan for him. The desire to do so had actually diminished. Twenty-five of his forty years had been spent fighting battles and building roads, from Rome to Germania to Ionia. He had few years left upon this earth. Those years he did have, he wanted to dedicate to the Lord.
But there were times . . .
Atretes set his son upon his shoulders and bent to kiss Rizpah again. Theophilus watched and felt a swift and unexpected pang of envy. She was a remarkable young woman. It was clear from her response that they would have little difficulty adjusting to one another. Atretes’ life had been hard and bleak till now, but God would give him joy through her.
“Lord, bless them with a quiver full of children,” he said. Turning away, Theophilus walked up the hill to lay the camp and prepare a meal.
* * *
Hours later, Theophilus saw Atretes and Rizpah walking between the scented spruce and fir toward him. Caleb was sleeping against Rizpah’s shoulder, Atretes’ arm was about her waist. Theophilus had never seen them so relaxed with one another and knew God had blessed their afternoon together. When Rizpah looked up at Atretes and said something to him, he stopped and touched her hair lightly. She lifted her chin, and he kissed her, his hand gliding from her shoulder down her arm in a tender and natural gesture of possession.
Theophilus looked away, sorry to have intruded on such a private moment.
They approached the fire almost reluctantly. He glanced up and smiled in greeting. “Help yourself to the rabbits.” He knew Rizpah would be self-conscious and tried to put them both at ease. “There’s plenty of bean stew in the pot and berries in that small basin.”
Atretes removed his arm from around her shoulders and took his son. Theophilus looked at her and saw her color rise. Atretes put Caleb down amidst the packs and covered him with a blanket. “Sit,” he said when he saw Rizpah still standing at the edge of the firelight. As she came forward, Atretes glanced at Theophilus. He gestured for him to eat.
Squatting down, Atretes removed one of the three roasted rabbits from the spit and put it on a wooden plate. He spooned bean, lentil, and corn mush beside it. “Sit over here,” he said to Rizpah and, when she obeyed, he handed it to her. He brushed her cheek lightly and then served himself. When she bowed her head to pray, Atretes watched her and waited until she finished.
Atretes was as ravenous for food as he had been for Rizpah all afternoon. He ate quickly, tossing bones into the fire. He finished the rabbit before Rizpah was half finished with hers.
“You can have the other one on the spit, Atretes,” Theophilus told him, amused. He had never seen Atretes so hungry. “I’ve already eaten.”
Atretes raised his brow at Rizpah. She nodded. “There’s plenty here for me and Caleb when he awakens.”
“I’ll hunt tomorrow,” Atretes told Theophilus as he slid the last roasted rabbit from the branch spit. “There are plenty of deer.”
Theophilus laughed despite his resolve not to do so. It would seem married life demanded added nourishment, but he curbed the temptation to remark on it. Atretes might appreciate manly humor, but Rizpah would be even more embarrassed. He leaned back, making himself comfortable against his pack. “I thought you were in a hurry to find your people.”
“We wait,” Atretes said decisively and flung a leg bone into the fire. “We stay here until you tell me everything you know about Jesus Christ.”
Theophilus could not have been more pleased by Atretes’ demand, but he was a soldier and bent to the practical. “What about the Mattiaci?”
“We’re on high ground,” Atretes said, not the least concerned.
“They attacked once. They could attack again.”
“They attack an enemy in a low clearing like the one we were in today. You wounded two. I killed four. They won’t come looking for us.” He tossed the last of the bones into the fire. “The Mattiaci are cowards.”
Atretes dismissed further discussion of tribal disputes with a return to his earlier demand. “Tell me about Jesus. Hadassah told me of his crucifixion and resurrection. I thought he was weak. Now, I know better. He is the true God, but I have questions. You say God sent Jesus. Yet you say Jesus is God. Explain.”
“Jesus is God, Atretes. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, who dwells within you now, all are one.”
“How is that possible?”
“Some things are too wonderful for man to understand,” Theophilus said, spreading his hands and wishing Atretes had asked an easier question. “I’m a simple soldier for Christ and as clear an understanding as I have is that there is God the Father, awesome and unreachable because sin came into the world. And there is Jesus Christ, God the Son, sent to atone for sin and remove the veil from the Holy of Holies so we can go before the Almighty and have an intimate relationship with him as Adam and Eve had in the Garden of Eden.”
He saw a frown flicker across Atretes’ face, but plunged ahead. “The Holy Spirit comes to dwell within us when we believe in Christ and are redeemed. It is through the Spirit that God reveals mysteries to us, for the Spirit searches all things, even the depths of God.”
“And I have this spirit living inside me now?”
“The moment you accepted Christ, the Holy Spirit came to dwell within you.”
“Then I’m possessed by this spirit.”
“‘Possessed’ is not a word I’d use to describe it. The Holy Spirit abides in you at your invitation and acts as your helper.”
“I didn’t invite it in.”
“Do you believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God?”
“Yes. I believe he is the Living God.”
“And you accept that he is your Savior and Lord?”
“He is my God. I have sworn it.”
“Then know that Jesus has also given you the Holy Spirit. He told his disciples after his resurrection and before his ascension to the Father that they would be baptized with the Holy Spirit. He said they would receive power when the Holy Spi
When Atretes asked who the disciples were, Theophilus told him.
“Perhaps they were more than men also,” Atretes said.
“They were ordinary men. Several were fishermen, one a tax collector, another an insurrectionist like you. There was nothing special about any of them except that Jesus chose them to be his followers. God chooses the ordinary and makes them extraordinary.” Theophilus saw Atretes’ confusion and felt insufficient for the task of answering and discussing spiritual questions. The German’s troubled frown was clear indication he was baffling rather than enlightening him.
God, help me. Give me your words.
“I’m a simple man, Atretes, with simple thoughts and simple faith.”
Atretes leaned forward, determined to understand. “Who are Adam and Eve, and where’s this Garden of Eden of which you spoke?”
Theophilus felt relief. Ask in my name and it will be granted you. The answer had come: Start at the beginning. He laughed softly, rejoicing. God answers. Let the Scriptures be known.
“Let me tell you the whole story, not just the finish.” His face shone in the firelight, angelic and carved in strength, holding Atretes’ full attention.
Rizpah listened as Theophilus told the story of the creation of the heavens and the earth and all that was on the earth, including man. Like music, the Roman’s deep voice drove back the sounds of enveloping darkness, making her aware of the stars in the heavens and the hope of God.
“And then man was created in the image of God, and woman was fashioned from his rib to be his companion and helper.”
Rizpah marveled anew. God spoke and all things came into being. The Word was the very breath of life in the beginning, as it would be to the end of time.
Theophilus told of Satan, God’s most beautiful creation, an ancient of ancients who was cast out of heaven because of pride, who entered the Garden in the form of a serpent and tempted Eve to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge with the promise that she would become like God. Deceived, she ate while her husband stood silent beside her, and sin was conceived and born. Eve gave of the fruit to her husband, who also ate, and because of their disobedience, God cast them out of the Garden. They would no longer live forever nor be in the presence of the Lord, but would live out a life span of years and struggle for existence. And thus, death, the consequence of sin, came into being.
“Adam and Eve bore sons who carried the seed of sin within them. Sin took root and grew in the jealousy of Cain, who murdered his brother, Abel. As men multiplied upon the earth, their wickedness increased until every intent of man was evil.
“The Lord was sorry he had made man and decided to blot him out as well as the animals and all creeping things he had created,” Theophilus said. “Only one creature found favor in God’s sight, a man named Noah.”
Atretes sat enthralled, absorbing every word and feeling faint stirrings within him, as though some deep part of him that had slumbered was now awakening. He listened as raptly as a child to the story of Noah building the ark, of the animals entering into it two by two, male and female, and then of the rains coming to flood the earth and destroy all life upon it.
“Every living thing died except those in the ark. And then God allowed the waters to recede and set the ark upon a mountain where he made a covenant with Noah. God said he would never destroy man by flood again, and set a rainbow in the sky as a sign of his promise. And so Noah and his wife, and his sons and their wives, left the ark and began to populate the earth again.”
Caleb awakened hungry, and Rizpah rose to sit with him and feed him the nourishing gruel with bits of rabbit meat mixed into it.
Theophilus went on. “Now, the whole earth used one language and the people gathered together to build for themselves a tower of brick and mortar to reach heaven. Seeing what they were doing, God confused their language and scattered them abroad from there across the face of the earth. Thousands of years passed before God spoke to man again. Then he came to one man, Abram, whom he told to leave his country of Ur and his relatives and his father’s house and go to the land he would show him. God promised to make of Abram a great nation through which all the nations of the earth would be blessed.”
Theophilus prodded the fire, spreading the glowing coals and adding more thick branches as he spoke.
“Abram did go forth as God told him for he believed God, but he took with him Sarai, his half sister who was his wife; Lot, an ambitious nephew; and Terah, his father. He also took with him all of his possessions, including the slaves he had acquired. When he reached the land God showed him, a dispute broke out between him and Lot, and he gave his nephew the choice of land. Abram settled in the land, and Lot settled in the cities of the valley and lived in Sodom.
“God told Abram again that he would make of him a nation, great in numbers. Abram believed God, even knowing that his wife, Sarai, was barren. Sarai believed for a time, but lost patience and took it upon herself to convince Abram that he should beget a child with her Egyptian handmaiden, Hagar. Abram did as she suggested, and Hagar bore a son, Ishmael. Trouble came immediately. Hagar became proud; Sarai, jealous.
“When Abram was ninety-six, the Lord came to him and made a covenant with him. God changed Abram’s name to Abraham, which means ‘the father of nations.’ The sign of this covenant was circumcision. Every male eight days old was to be circumcised. Abraham, Ishmael, and all the boys and men in his tribe were circumcised in obedience to this covenant. As for Sarai, God said she would bear Abraham a son in their old age, and they would call him Isaac, meaning ‘laughter.’ ”
A cool breeze rustled the trees as Theophilus went on, telling of the animosity between the women and their sons. Atretes nodded in agreement as he heard how Hagar and Ishmael were cast out, for it was through Isaac that the promised nation would come forth.
“God tested Abraham, for he told him to make of Isaac a burnt offering. Abraham rose early, took his son and wood, and went to the place the Lord had told him to go. There he built an altar, arranged the wood, bound his son, and laid him upon it. But when he took the knife to slay him, an angel of the Lord told him to stay his hand. Abraham believed, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness. God provided a ram for sacrifice and renewed his covenant with Abraham, telling him yet again that through his seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed.”
Theophilus leaned forward, face glowing. “For it was through Abraham that a people of faith came into being, and from them, God promised all mankind the Messiah, the anointed one, who would overcome the sin in the Garden of Eden and give those who believe in him eternal life.” He smiled. “But I’m jumping ahead.”
Retracing, he told Atretes how Isaac married Rebekah, who bore him twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Esau, the elder, sold his birthright to his younger brother for a bowl of food, and Jacob later stole his brother’s blessing by trickery and deceit. Enmity arose between the two brothers, and Jacob fled to Laban, his mother’s brother. He fell in love with Laban’s younger daughter, Rachel. Through Laban’s trickery and deceit, Jacob married Leah and then Rachel and was bound to his uncle for more than fourteen years. From these two women and their two handmaidens, Jacob fathered twelve sons.
“The favorite son was Joseph, son of Jacob’s beloved wife, Rachel. Joseph was a dreamer of dreams and prophesied a time when he would rule over his brothers and his own father. His brothers despised him and, in their jealousy, plotted against him. They threw him into a cistern and sold him to a traveling caravan that took him to Egypt, where he became a slave of Potiphar, an Egyptian officer of the pharaoh. Joseph was a handsome young man, and Potiphar’s wife wanted him for her lover, but Joseph refused. When she tried to seduce him, he ran away. Scorned and angry, she told her husband that Joseph had tried to rape her, and so Potiphar cast Joseph into the dungeon.”
Atretes gave a cynical laugh. “Women have been causing trouble for men from the beginning,” he s
Rizpah glanced up from where she was changing Caleb’s linens. “That’s true,” she said, smiling. “When men are weak and given to passion rather than obedience to the Lord, they usually do run into trouble head-on.”
Atretes ignored her observation and raised his brow at Theophilus.
Suppressing a smile, Theophilus continued, telling of Joseph’s God-given ability to interpret dreams and how this gift brought him into the palace of Pharaoh and made him second in power in all Egypt. When the prophesied famine came, Joseph’s brothers journeyed to Egypt for grain, thus fulfilling the prophesies of his youth that he would rule over them as well as his father.
“Joseph forgave them, telling them that what they had done for evil, God had turned to good.”
Rizpah settled Caleb in a nest of packs and blankets and came back to sit near Atretes.
“Another pharaoh rose who didn’t know of Joseph’s deeds. He saw a threat in the increasing number of Joseph’s descendants and made them slaves. When their number continued to grow, Pharaoh became alarmed and commanded that all male newborns were to be killed. Moses, a descendant of Abraham, was born and placed in a basket and hidden among the reeds of the Nile. Pharaoh’s daughter found him and raised him as her own son. When he grew to manhood, he went to his brethren and looked upon their hard labors. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew and struck him down. When word spread among the Hebrews of what he had done, he fled to Midian. There, after years in exile, God spoke to Moses from a burning bush.”
Theophilus smiled slightly. “Now, Moses was an ordinary man and terrified that God was speaking to him. When God told him he wanted him to return to Egypt and lead the Hebrew slaves out of bondage, Moses was more afraid of the mission than of God himself. He pleaded, saying he was nobody. God said he would be his spokesman. Moses said he didn’t know God’s name and the Hebrews wouldn’t believe him. God told him to say that I AM had sent him. Moses still resisted, insisting they wouldn’t believe him. God told him to throw his staff on the ground, and when he obeyed, the Lord turned it into a serpent. Moses ran from it, terrified, but God called him back and told him to take hold of the tail. When he obeyed, the serpent became a staff once more.