THE UNTOLD STORY: Entry Thirty-Four

Entry Thirty-Four: Nehemiah 1:9

I go down to the river once more. The level of the water has dropped, and the pool seems less formidable. I undress and wade in. The coolness of the water is refreshing and restorative. It is getting hotter. I sit in the shallows and watch the river flow by. Life. Passing me by.

I am startled by voices…youthful voices greeting me. Benjamin’s friends. They enquired after me and Elizabeth directed them to this place. They are a welcome diversion. They are boisterous and their energy rejuvenates me. The scene transports me back to a happier time. Laughter is like an elixir. I breathe in deeply and find a simple joyfulness rising up from within…and hope…hope that the nightmare may yet end.

I watch. I listen. The many internal voices that have assailed me the past few days are rendered silent for the moment. Once more, these young men bring my Benjamin back to me…he is present in their presence. They speak his name. 

Then I notice the strain. There is something they are not telling me. I see the nervous glances they share with each other. I rise, dry myself, and dress. I am suddenly aware of my age. They come to sit with me in the shade. The conversation turns serious. There are rumours in town that Herod has done the unthinkable…he has gifted Benjamin’s land to the Roman, Mark Antony. They tell me I ought to be ready. The community will be in uproar.

Is it possible for this hurt to go any deeper? I feel strangely numb. This is one more barrier…if Benjamin does return…even in sackcloth and ashes…will they receive him? Will they allow him to re-enter that from which they so eagerly cut him off? Will the discarded branch be regrafted into the olive tree? One by one the young men take their leave, promising to visit me again soon. They tell me they pray for me…pray for Benjamin, I say.