Sons of Encouragement

by Francine Rivers

  Jerioth bore another son. Caleb named him for the place where God allowed them to camp. When Ephrathah bore a son, Caleb lifted him high before the cloud of the Lord. “His name will be Hur.”

  Hezron stood bent over his staff. “Another name not of our family.” The years were heavy upon him, and the grief of sons lost spawned bitterness and hatred.

  Caleb did not weaken. “Hur and Aaron held Moses’ arms up while Joshua went out against Amalek. So shall my son support those who are chosen of God to lead the people.” He held the babe against his heart. “My sons shall choose honor over shame.”

  “May they grow strong in faith like you, but have Moses’ compassion.” The old man walked away.

  Caleb kept his sons close, even in the midst of Judah, not wanting them to mingle among those who still looked back toward Egypt and sighed.

  Zimri sought him out. “We need you in the council of elders.”

  “To what purpose?” They had never listened to him before.

  “Your enemies have died, my friend, many in the plague.”

  Caleb lifted his head. “And should I mourn them?”

  “You heard their screams just as I did. I lost sons that day. Have you no pity for me or those the Lord killed?”

  “It was their own faithlessness that brought them down.”

  “Dreams too long delayed in coming.”

  Even Zimri was blind. “It was not a dream! The land was there as God promised, ripe as the grapes and pomegranates Joshua and I brought back to you. And your fear hardened your heart against the Lord.”

  “My sons, my sons. Only Carmi and his son are left.”

  Caleb saw the appeal in the old man’s eyes, but would not give in to it. “Faithless still, Zimri. You make excuses for blasphemers. You have heard the Law. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and with all your might. You and the others still hold fast to flesh and blood.”

  “You resent us so much?”

  “I resent the years of waste.”

  Zimri looked at the young men playing games. His mouth drew tight. “You will go in to that which we have been denied.”

  “Yes. When I’m eighty. When my infant sons are as old as I am now. Mesha and Mareshah will be older still!”

  Zimri hung his head.

  Caleb turned away, but Zimri grasped his arm. “We need you.” He looked up, his eyes moist. “My grandsons need you.”

  So Caleb went to the council of elders. “You want to hear what I have to say? So be it. Stop talking among yourselves and listen to the Lord God who brought you out of Egypt. It is too late to look back on what could have been. We must look forward to the promise God has given us. Yes. You will all die! But your sons will go into Canaan—if they learn to obey the Lord. When you come together, judge cases wisely according to the Law. When you gather, speak of the miracles you saw in Egypt. Speak of the opening of the Red Sea; speak of the water that came forth from the rock. Give thanks over the manna you receive from God’s hand each morning. Give thanks for the pillar of fire that protects us by night. Confess to your sons and daughters that it is by our own sins that we wander in this desert. It is because we did not trust in the Lord that they must live as nomads! Let them see us humble ourselves before the Lord so that they will learn He is the Lord our God! We failed to obey. We must teach our sons to succeed.”

  Silent, the men looked to Zimri and he spoke for them all. “We agree, Caleb. Only promise you will lead them.”

  Caleb looked around the circle. Still, after everything, they failed to understand. “No. I will not. For the Lord our God will lead them!”

  The men sent their sons to Caleb, who pressed them hard. He walked down their ranks.

  “We no longer have fields to plow and plant, nor crops to harvest, for the Lord has given us all we need. You do not have to toil in the sun making bricks as your fathers did before you. But you will not spend your days in idleness! The Lord is a warrior, the Lord is His Name!”

  “The Lord is a warrior, the Lord is His Name!” his sons called out. The others joined in.

  “Again. And mean it!”

  They shouted.

  “We will all learn to be warriors as well.” He set courses for them to run to make their bodies strong and fast. He planned games to test their agility and strength. He drilled them and drilled them. The older men watched and died as their sons trained.

  Caleb’s sons and the others with them were sprouting up like ripe stalks of wheat. But Caleb wanted them strong and unwavering. “You will not bend with every wind that blows down upon us. There were cedars in Canaan, towers of strength. So shall we be. We will stand firm in the power of the Lord our God!”

  Whenever the Lord settled the people in a place with wood, Caleb sent out his sons to gather it and build up the fires. The clang of metal against metal and hiss of steam was heard around his camp as he beat his plowshares into swords and his pruning hooks into spears. Through trial and error, the young men learned to wield the weapons and hit the mark with bow and arrow. The shepherds among them taught others how to use the sling and stones.

  “Keep your eyes on the Lord,” Caleb taught them. “Be ready to set out the moment the cloud lifts from the Tabernacle.” He taught the boys and young men to run at the first blast of the shofar, rewarding those who were first to have their camps ready for the journey to the next site.

  “Rise up! Rise up, O Israel! The Lord is on the move!” And so they all learned to do, not reluctantly but swiftly, pulling down tents, rolling, packing, setting out to wherever God led them.

  One of Caleb’s sons was always on watch. For he wanted Judah close on Moses’ and Aaron’s heels, within sight of Joshua who would one day lead.

  Caleb and Joshua often worshiped together and then went to a high place that gave them an overview of the camp. Thousands of tents spread out over the desert plain beneath a canopy of cloud. Smoke rose from cook fires. Children ran between the tents; old men gathered at entrances while women served. Where Judah camped, young men sparred and raced against one another. In the distance, shepherds moved flocks of sheep and herds of cattle closer for the night.

  The air began to change. Caleb held his breath and watched the transformation of cooling cloud to swirling pillar of flame. It never ceased to amaze him. “Shadowed by day, warmed by night. Our Lord is ever merciful.”

  Joshua made a sound of agreement. “You are training Judah’s sons to become fierce warriors.”

  Caleb could detect neither approval nor reprimand in Joshua’s statement. “All the sons of Jacob should train to be warriors.”

  “I’ve been praying on the matter.”

  “And what does the Lord say?”

  “He speaks to Moses, not to me.” Caleb felt Joshua’s restlessness and knew he had more to say. After a long moment, Joshua glanced at him. “Nothing has been said one way or the other, which gives me great cause to wonder.”

  “About what?”

  “Whether it is right to train for battle.”

  “When the Lord sends us into Canaan, Joshua, we must know how to fight. Do you think it a sin to train soldiers?”

  “The Lord said the land is ours.”

  “Yes. The victory is already decided, but our work has yet to be done. Do you think the Lord would have us recline on mats and sleep for the next forty years?”

  “Our work is to believe, Caleb.”

  “Yes, Joshua, but faith is proven by action. The ten scouts who went with us into Canaan believed in God, but they refused to act upon their faith by leading their brothers into Canaan.” He sneered. “Perhaps they would have had the courage had God crushed the walls of the fortified cities and obliterated the people before extending the invitation to us to occupy the land.”

  “You have no compassion for them.”

  Caleb clenched his teeth.

  “They suffered for their lack of faith, Caleb.”

  “Their lack of faith could grow within our ranks. Inactivity breed
s rebellion. We must do something. What better than to prepare for the battle ahead?”

  “You speak as though we are soldiers or charioteers. We are slaves.”

  “We were slaves. Now we are free men with God’s promise of a future and a hope. The children born to us in the wilderness will never have known the yoke of Egypt. They will be born beneath the canopy of God. They will walk in His presence every day of their lives. Perhaps it is for us who spent most of our lives bowing down to others to learn to be like our children. If I am bound to anyone as slave, it is to the Lord our God. You must not weaken, Joshua. You must not allow yourself to look back, but up.” He pointed to the pillar of fire. “And out to what is before us.” He pointed north to Canaan.

  “It is the wandering that wears upon me.”

  “As it wears upon us all. But it is a training ground, too.” Caleb looked toward the horizon. Would God rise up tomorrow and lead them somewhere else? Only the Lord could lead them through this wasteland and bring them to water. “We may believe we wander aimlessly, my friend, but I am convinced God has a plan. I must believe or I would despair. We were judged and now we live with the consequences of our sins, but surely this isn’t all about punishment. Every day we keep our eyes upon Him, we are learning to move when He moves.”

  “It is punishment.”

  “Yes. Yes.” Caleb grew impatient. “But it is also opportunity.” He had thought much about it over the past weeks. “Perhaps God always has more than one purpose. He judged us righteously, but He shows us mercy. He gives us the Law on which to fix our minds and hearts, a Law that sets me at war within myself. And God told us to sacrifice every morning and evening. The smell is a constant reminder. He knows us so well. He gives us food and water to sustain us. He directs our every step. When the Lord rises up, we strike our tents and follow. When He returns to the Tabernacle, we camp and wait. In Egypt, our taskmasters did our thinking for us and we responded like beasts of burden. Now, we must think as men. We are not animals that graze at whatever pasture is available to us. We are faced with choices. Do we grumble among ourselves, or walk the path God has given us?”

  Caleb pointed northeast. “That land is ours. Right now, it is filled with people who bow down to false gods and practice all manner of evil. Every man, woman, and child is corrupt and rotten with sin. You saw how they worshiped their gods, casting babies into fire and fornicating on altars in the middle of town and under every spreading oak. They practice worse abominations than Egypt all puffed up and spread out like a cobra. The Lord sent us into the land as scouts to see what we would be up against. We saw. We know. Now, we must prepare to do battle.”

  Joshua said nothing. Silence had never sat well upon Caleb. He had no reason to doubt Joshua’s courage, but he wished he knew what was going on in his mind. “We have fought battles before, Joshua. The Lord didn’t tell us to sit by and watch while He destroyed the Amalekites. He sent us into battle against them.”

  “Moses prayed.”

  “And God answered by giving us victory.”

  “Sometimes we are called to do nothing more than pray, Caleb.”

  “Yes. But is it wise to assume the Lord will destroy Canaan with plagues first and then send us into the land? Or wiser to train and prepare for whatever God asks of us?” Even if the Lord told them to stand and watch, the work would not be wasted if they were prepared to do whatever God asked of them.

  “You have already made up your mind about what we should do.”

  Caleb looked down at the camps spread upon the plain. Where the tents of Judah were positioned, youths fought mock battles. After each rally, they backed off and began again. “Are you trying to change it?”

  “Where is prayer in all this strife?”

  “Strife?” Caleb’s jaw tightened. “There is less strife among the Judean boys who train than I’ve witnessed among the other tribes who do little more than gather manna every morning, then sit on their haunches and talk the rest of the day. Aimless talk leads to whining and complaining and rebellion. And as to prayer, it comes first. No one lifts a hand or a weapon until after morning sacrifices and the reading of the Law.”

  Joshua’s mouth curved wryly. “But you are partial.”

  His temper bubbled. “Partial?”

  “You show particular attention to certain men.”

  Why was Joshua pressing him so? Why didn’t he just speak what was on his mind? “What are you getting at, Joshua?”

  “You train the sons of Judah.”

  “Of course.”

  “You have other allegiances.”

  Caleb felt the heat surge into his face. Did he mean Edom? Caleb stared hard at Joshua through narrowed eyes. “My only allegiance is to the Lord who told me I will go into the land. When that day comes, I want my sons beside me, ready to destroy anyone or anything that stands in the way of our inheritance.”

  Joshua put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “But you are Hebrew, my friend. A son of Abraham, and all these others are our brothers.”

  “Why bait me? Speak your mind.”

  “What has been in your mind has been on mine as well. We must train for battle. What troubles me is the way we’re going about it. Scattered groups, scattered efforts. One day we may be at one another’s throats rather than set against the enemies of God.”

  The vision caught Caleb’s heart. He gripped Joshua’s arm. “Then unite us!”

  “It is not my place to do that.”

  “Then speak to Moses. The Lord brought twelve tribes together and brought them out of Egypt. Surely He wants us to be one flock and not twelve. Moses can also train us. He grew up in the Egyptian court among the princes. Much of his education must have centered on tactics and weaponry. And you are closer to him than his own sons, close enough to pose the question.”

  “You would have me be presumptuous?”

  “If you do not ask, you will not receive an answer.”

  “And what if he says no?”

  Caleb did not want to speak rashly. He looked out over the thousands of tents. He could see the banners of each tribe, the space between, boundaries. “Look at us. You are correct. We are scattered in our thinking. God is trying to bring us together through the Law—one mind, one heart, one promise that gives us hope. We cannot be twelve tribes encamped around the Tabernacle. We must become one nation under God! And every nation has an army. Let us build an army for the Lord.” He looked into Joshua’s solemn face. Joshua had aged greatly during the last months. Love for the people weighed heavily upon the younger man’s heart.

  “Speak to Moses, Joshua. Tell him what is on your mind and heart. I’m surprised you haven’t already done so.”

  “He is troubled in spirit and prays unceasingly for the people.”

  “Who are vain and bored and need something to occupy them. Ask! You know what Moses will do.”

  “He will go to the Lord.”

  Caleb laughed joyously. “Yes!” He slapped Joshua hard on the back. “And then we will know if the fire in our blood was placed there by our own pride or by God’s Spirit.”

  The years passed slowly as the Israelites moved from place to place in the wilderness. The slave generation died one by one as the children grew taller and more robust. Families were left without patriarchs and matriarchs, then without aunts and uncles.

  Caleb faced constant sorrow as he watched friends and family members die. Zimri was the first, followed soon after by Hezron. Some died embittered and unrepentant. Others grieved over their lack of faith and its cost to their children. Zimri’s son Carmi sat on the council now with Caleb. They became good, if not close, friends.

  When Caleb walked among the tents, those of his generation watched him pass. Some stared with resentment, others with burning envy, precious few with a respectful nod of greeting. The camp was in constant mourning, over loved ones dying as well as over the sin that kept them from the Promised Land.

  Boys clamored around Caleb wherever he went, eager to join in the training. He
tested their knowledge of the Law first. “It is not enough to want to fight. All men have it in them to fight! You must know the One who leads you into battle.”

  “Moses!”

  “And Joshua!”

  Caleb knew what both men would say to that. “Go back to your tent. You’re not ready.” They came to him with the fire to fight, but without faith and knowledge. The Lord was their commander. They must prepare their hearts and minds to follow His will. Not a man’s. Not even his.

  The seventy elders died and were replaced by younger men who lived with the cost of their fathers’ sins. They listened to Moses’ counsel and acted upon it, choosing wise men who loved the Lord to judge the people. One by one, the men who grew up in the fear of Pharaoh died off and were replaced by men who grew up in the fear of the Lord.

  The camps moved with the precision of an army. When the cloud rose, so too did the people, often even before the shofar blasted. The people were learning day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year to keep watch and follow the Lord.

  The old moaned and mourned, grumbled and groaned, and died.

  The young praised and practiced, rejoiced in and reverenced God, and lived.

  During the thirty-eighth year of wandering, Caleb was called to the tent of Kenaz. His brother lay dying. Caleb sat beside him, grieving this loss more than any other.

  Kenaz smiled weakly. “I thought, perhaps, the Lord had forgotten about me, and I might sneak into the Promised Land among my sons and grandsons. . . .”

  Caleb couldn’t speak. He gripped Kenaz’s hand between his own.

  “I have watched you, my brother.” Kenaz’s voice was barely a whisper. “You sit at the entrance of your tent and fix your eyes upon the pillar of fire. And God’s fire is reflected in your eyes, my brother.”

  Caleb bowed his head, tears flowing.

  “We should’ve listened . . .” Kenaz sighed. His hand went slack between Caleb’s.