Sons of Encouragement

by Francine Rivers

  The old man sobbed.

  Mourning deeply, Caleb removed his jewelry. As he lifted an amulet from his neck, he looked at it and went cold. Why had he not noticed it was the Star of Rompha? He wore the cobra Ra on his arm, a lapis scarab set in solid gold on his finger. Shuddering, he yanked off every piece of jewelry he wore. “Take off everything that honors another god.” They did as he said, casting off gifts the Egyptians had poured upon them. “It’s a wonder we aren’t all dead!”

  Moses had chiseled out two more stone tablets and gone back up the mountain to plead with God on the people’s behalf. When he returned, his face shone like the sun. Until he covered his face with a veil, no one had courage enough to go near him, not even his brother, Aaron. Moses had not returned empty-handed; he brought back the Law written by God’s hand upon the tablets, and plans for a tabernacle and holy items including an ark to contain the Law. God had chosen two men for the task of building the Tabernacle: Bezalel and Oholiab. Offerings were needed for the construction, and the people responded. Had not God provided what was needed by the gifts the Egyptians had given the Israelites? The people merely gave back a portion of what God had already given them.

  Caleb gave the best of what he had.

  “Enough!” Moses’ servants said. “We have enough!”

  Everyone worked. Even Azubah. She joined other women of the family and wove fine cloth. Caleb’s remaining brothers helped keep the fires burning so the gold and bronze could be melted. Caleb worked hard, honored to be assigned any task alongside the sons of Judah. But he knew alliances weakened under stress. He had to find another way to be grafted in among these people.

  Young women wore mourning clothes. Many had lost fathers and brothers on the day of God’s retribution for the golden idol. Caleb saw in them a way to solidify his family’s connection to the tribe of Judah.

  He approached his father and brothers. “We must strengthen our alliance with Judah.”

  “How?” Kenaz spoke with willingness.

  “Take wives from among the sons of Judah.”

  Caleb took a second wife, Jerioth. His father and Kenaz followed his lead, as did the others over the next months.

  Each morning, Caleb listened eagerly to the laws God had given Moses. He wanted to please the God of heaven and earth. Though the task of following the numerous laws was daunting, he felt hedged in from all sides, safe under the watchful eye of God.

  Know my heart, Lord. Know that I desire to please You.

  When the Tabernacle and holy items were ready, Caleb stood amidst the multitude, shoulder to shoulder for the dedication ceremonies, praying that God would be pleased with their work. He did not hold a place in the front, so he had to stretch up to see, and strain to hear what was said. Giving up, he kept his gaze fixed upon the cloud. When it moved, his heart fluttered and then pounded. In awe, he drew in his breath and held it. When the cloud came down and filled the tabernacle, there was weeping in joy. Caleb shouted praise to God.

  The joy was short-lived.

  “Aaron’s sons are dead!” People shouted and wept. Some ran.

  “What happened?”

  “They were consumed by fire!”

  “Why?”

  Caleb heard later that they had scorned the law of the Lord and offered incense in a manner other than that which God commanded. Fear gripped Caleb. If God would kill Aaron’s sons, He would not tolerate sin among any of His people. Caleb was afraid to turn to the left or right of what the Lord commanded.

  Zimri represented Judah among the seventy elders instructing the sons of Judah. Whenever the old man sat to teach the laws Moses had received from the Lord, Caleb was there, listening more intently than the younger men who gathered.

  As the people moved toward the Promised Land, more trouble brewed. The Egyptian rabble traveling with them complained about the manna. They longed for the fish, cucumber, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic of their homeland. “We are sick of nothing at all to eat except this manna!” The Israelites took up the rebellious whining. Even the sons of Judah began complaining.

  “These people have learned nothing.” Caleb kept his wives and sons inside the tent. “Do they think the Lord does not hear their carping?”

  Jerioth said nothing, but Azubah argued. “I am as sick of the manna as they are. I can barely swallow it without gagging on the sweetness of it.”

  “You try my patience, woman. When will you learn to give thanks for what God has given us?”

  “I am thankful, but must we have the same thing day after day?”

  “You lived on barley cakes and water in Egypt and never once complained.”

  “Yes, but this God could give us anything and everything we want. Why does He withhold a feast from heaven and instead make us grovel on our knees every morning for one day’s portion of manna? I’m sick of it—sick of it, I say. I wish we had never left Egypt!”

  Then God sent quail and a plague.

  Azubah feasted on roasted birds and died.

  Remembering her as a young bride and mother, Caleb grieved. Leaving Jerioth in camp to tend the baby, he and his other sons carried Azubah’s body outside the camp. They buried her among thousands of others. Weeping, Caleb went down on his knees and stretched out his hands, his gaze fixed upon the cloud. Why won’t they listen, Lord? How is it I believe and so many don’t? They saw the plagues of Egypt. They walked through the sea. They saw the water come from the rock. They’ve eaten the manna. Why, Lord? Why won’t they believe?

  Thirty days after Azubah’s death, Caleb sought another wife from among the daughters of Judah left fatherless.

  Zimri advised him. “Ephrathah would be a good choice.”

  The Hebrews overhearing the conversation exchanged smiles, and Caleb suspected that no one else wanted the woman. So be it. He would do whatever necessary to solidify his family’s alliance with Zimri, even if it meant taking some loathsome woman off his hands.

  “I will make arrangements for the bride-price.”

  Several men laughed low and bent their heads close to whisper. Zimri gripped Caleb’s arm. “Do not take heed of those who only take notice of the surface.”

  Ephrathah was brought to his tent. When Caleb lifted her veil, his suspicions were confirmed. He treated her with consideration if not affection.

  Another rebellion arose, this time between the high priest, Aaron, and Miriam over Moses’ Cushite wife. The Lord struck Miriam with leprosy and then healed her when Aaron pleaded for her. Even so, the law required Miriam to spend seven days outside the camp. Everyone waited for her return, for she was held in high esteem as the sister of Moses, the one who had watched over him as he drifted on the Nile and then been bold enough to speak to Pharaoh’s daughter about his need for a wet nurse. The cunning girl had brought back their mother to tend him.

  Caleb loved to listen to Ephrathah’s stories. She knew the history of her people in a way he had never heard it. She was more eloquent than Zimri and the elders! Every bit of information he could gather helped him pry into the boundaries of his adopted tribe. He smiled as his sons leaned in close, listening hungrily. This new wife of his had the gift of storytelling. Seeing her more clearly, he cherished her. Ephrathah was as stubborn in her faith as he. Even Jerioth, about to bear her second child, deferred to Ephrathah.

  “Moses drifted among the crocodiles and serpents.” Ephrathah moved her hands sinuously as she told the story of Moses. “Even the wise ibises paid no attention. Israel’s deliverer was within their reach, and they did not know. And where did the Lord take the babe, but straight into the arms of the daughter of His enemy, Pharaoh. Moses’ sister, Miriam, came out of hiding then and said the baby needed a wet nurse and would the lady like her to fetch one. Of course, she did, having no milk to offer. And so it was that Jochebed, Moses’ own mother, received her son back again.” Ephrathah laughed. “The Lord laughs at His enemies, for they have no power against Him.”

  Caleb drew Ephrathah close in his arms that night. He whispere
d into the curve of her neck, “You are worth your weight in gold.”

  Zimri and the other elders of Judah called the heads of families together. Moses had called for twelve spies to enter Canaan, one from each tribe. Judah must choose a representative.

  Dozens of men volunteered, Caleb among them. Though he quaked at the thought of entering Canaan without the Lord overhead, he knew if he was chosen, he and his family would hold a place of honor from this time forward. “Let me. I’m not afraid. Send me!”

  Everyone started talking at once and no one heard him but those standing close. They sneered. The elders were calling for discussion.

  “It should be a young man without wife and children on such a journey.”

  “There is no guarantee the man will return alive.”

  “There are giants in the land. Descendants of Anak.”

  At that, some men changed their minds about volunteering.

  Voices grew louder. “Let each family offer one, and we will cast lots to see who the Lord will send.”

  If that happened, Caleb knew he stood no chance. He shoved into the circle. “I will go.” His sons would have a place among God’s people even if he had to sacrifice his life to make certain of it.

  The gathering fell silent. Several looked to Zimri.

  The old man shook his head. “No.”

  Caleb faced the old man he had saved. “Why not?” He looked around the circle. “I don’t see all that many jumping at the chance to go.”

  “You have two wives and sons.”

  “Not to mention the rabble who came with him!” another called out from the back.

  Caleb seethed, but forced himself to offer a wry smile. “Why not send the dog if he’s so eager to sniff out Canaan?” Some laughed at Caleb’s challenge. Others called out agreement. “What do you say? Will you send the Caleb?” A cry of agreement rose amidst the laughter. Caleb laughed loudest, determined. “Mock me if you will, but send me. If I die in Canaan, what have you lost?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Enough!” Zimri shouted. “Hear me.” The men grew quiet. “Moses has called for men who are leaders. He is no leader who mocks his brother.” Caleb felt the heat surge into his face and then realized Zimri’s scowl was directed at the man who had started the baiting. The offender lowered his gaze. Zimri looked at the others. “Who will represent Judah on this perilous errand? Step forward if you’re willing. Otherwise, be silent.”

  Emboldened by Zimri’s defense, Caleb stepped into the center of the circle. “Send me.”

  “You are not equipped.”

  “Did I not go into battle beside Joshua against the Amalekites?”

  “You are my friend, Caleb, but you are not . . .”

  “Full-blooded.” Another man finished what Zimri was too kind to voice.

  Caleb’s face flushed hot as he looked between the elders. “Did I not hear you just call me brother?”

  “We have an alliance with you, but it must be a Judean by birth that should go on our behalf.”

  That these words should come from Zimri hurt deeply, for he had thought him an ally. “And where is he?” Caleb swept his hand toward those standing silent.

  Zimri frowned. “You are not a young man, Caleb.”

  “I am forty years old, and I come with forty years of life experience.” He turned his back on Zimri and walked the circle, pausing to look into the face of each man he passed. “Do you want to go? Do you? Come on! Step forward if you’re willing to face the Anak.” No one held his gaze for long. “The man who goes into Canaan will not just be looking at the enemy we must fight, at their city walls and weapons, but at the land itself. Should Judah not have the best? All of you here were brick makers and shepherds. I was a farmer. I made my living off the land. To have good crops, you need good land. I offer myself as your servant. Send me.”

  Everyone started talking at once again.

  “Let God decide,” someone called out, and others joined in.

  Zimri and the elders commanded order again and called for a lottery. “One man from each family must bring a lot. We will let the Lord decide.”

  And there was an end to further discussion. Grim and despairing, Caleb had his name etched upon a bone and tossed it into the growing pile. The census had counted 74,600 men twenty years and older in the tribe of Judah. There would be thousands of lots cast before the choice was known. The lots were shaken and cast and the elimination process began. It would take the rest of the night, if not longer.

  Ephrathah tried to soothe him, but Caleb went off by himself and sat looking up at the pillar of fire swirling in the night sky. He spread his hands, palms up. He had no words to express his longing. I am as afraid as any man to go into Canaan and walk among the giants who live there. But I fear more not being counted among Your people. Do not allow them to set me aside. Please don’t reject me, Lord. Purify my blood. Make me a son of Israel!

  He covered his head. “I know I am not fully Hebrew, Lord. I know Esau’s blood runs in my veins. But even so, Lord . . .” He lifted his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You are my God. You and only You. There is no other.”

  He knew there were many who disliked him, who thought he was proud and ambitious, a thorn in their sides. Some wished he would turn around and go back to Egypt. They saw him as a growling, groveling dog on the edge of the camp. And didn’t he behave like one, barking constantly for what he wanted? A place among God’s people! He groaned. Who was he to think himself worthy to represent the tribe of Judah? Surely the Lord looked down and saw him for the cur he was. He hunched against the rock, too depressed to go back to camp.

  Dawn came and went. It was midday before he returned to his tent.

  Zimri was there in the shady entrance of Caleb’s tent, sipping a drink Ephrathah had just replenished.

  Caleb sat with him. “I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position, Zimri. I had no right to demand that I be chosen to represent Judah. I’m not worthy.”

  The old man opened his hand. Caleb’s lot lay on his palm.

  He took the lot and turned it over and over in his hand. “You removed it from the pile.”

  “I did.”

  Caleb felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. It was a moment before he could speak. “I thought being counted in the census at least gave me the right to take part in the lottery.”

  “You misunderstand me, Caleb.”

  “So it would seem.” Caleb looked out at the other tents clustered close. He did not want Zimri to see his deep hurt. Angry words rose, but he held them back. Rash speaking would cause a permanent rift between them, and Caleb had few friends among the sons of Judah as it was. “Who won the lottery?”

  “You are the only man I know who would see it as winning.”

  Caleb gave a bleak laugh. “Who is God sending?”

  “Who do you think?” The old man stared at him. After a moment, he smiled faintly. “It would seem among all the men of Judah, God has chosen you to represent us.”

  Caleb felt gooseflesh rise up and down his back and arms. First joy, then terror, filled him. He released his breath unevenly.

  Zimri laughed. “Wonders never cease, my friend. This is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.” He rose. “Report to Moses and he will give you further instructions. Whatever you need, Caleb, anything, you have only to ask. The men of Judah will give it.”

  When Caleb saw Joshua among the other spies, he pressed his way through the men gathered. “Ah, my young friend.” Caleb grinned. “Let an old man travel with you. Between us, we will have the impetuousness of youth and the cunning of age on our side.”

  Joshua laughed. “I wondered if Judah would send you.”

  They clasped hands. “God sent me.”

  “I would meet your friend, Joshua.”

  Caleb would know that voice if it had spoken to him in darkness. Heart hammering, he turned and bowed his head low to Moses. He had never been this close to God’s chosen prophet. Aaron, dressed in the
garments of high priest, stood behind his brother, forgiven and restored by God.

  “Do not bow low before me.” Moses put his hand upon Caleb. “I am but a man.”

  Caleb straightened. “A man, yes, but God’s anointed prophet who speaks the Word of the Lord. You have pleaded for our lives when we deserved death. And God granted us mercy. May the Lord grant you long life and teach us obedience.”

  Joshua grasped his shoulder. “This is Caleb of the tribe of Judah.”

  “Ah, yes. I saw you fight alongside Joshua against the Amalekites.”

  Stunned that he had been noticed, Caleb received his blessing.

  Moses gathered the men. “The Lord told me to send out from the people men to explore the land of Canaan, which He is going to give to us. Go northward through the Negev into the hill country. See what the land is like and find out whether the people living there are strong or weak, few or many. What kind of land do they live in? Is it good or bad? Do their towns have walls or are they unprotected? How is the soil? Is it fertile or poor? Are there many trees? Enter the land boldly, and bring back samples of the crops you see.”

  After praying for them and blessing them, Moses and Aaron left them alone to make their plans for departure.

  The men agreed to meet at dawn and leave together.

  Caleb, with ideas of his own, returned to his tent to make preparations.

  When he arrived at the agreed meeting site the next morning, the others stared and spoke in derision. “You look like an Egyptian trader.”

  Caleb grinned. “Good.” Dressed in finery, he held the lead rope of three donkeys laden with trade goods donated by the men of Judah, and another with a saddle, but no rider. “This is the best way to get inside the walled cities and take a good look around.”

  “Inside the walls? Are you out of your mind?”

  “We can see all we need to see from the outside.”

  It was too early to argue. “You go your way, and we will go ours.” He tossed the reins to Joshua, then tapped the flank of his mount with a stick and set off. Once away from Kadesh and the multitude and camped the first night on their own in the wilderness of Paran, he would be able to speak with these men. Perhaps then they would listen. The others came along behind, mumbling.