by Mesu Andrews
“Why did I agree to come back here, Nogahla?” Dinah’s stomach lurched at the thought of facing Abba Jacob after the way he’d ridiculed her gullible trust in Esau.
Her friend clasped her cheeks in an iron grip, aligning her face-to-face. “El Shaddai can work in every circumstance, mis—Dinah. If we have learned anything, you and me, we have learned this truth.” Dinah could only nod as the young woman continued her lesson. “It’s easy to remember this truth when life is easy, but we must remind each other when life gets hard.” The two hugged fiercely, squeezing their eyes closed—as if every tensed muscle could somehow fight future fears.
When Dinah opened her eyes, she looked beyond the festive tents of Jacob’s camp and saw the red standards of an approaching army. “No!” She straightened, startling Nogahla. The flags bore the symbol of a god holding a mountain in his hand. “It’s Uncle Esau!”
“Oh, mistress! Who invited him to your wedding?” Nogahla’s hand slammed against the wedding cart. “Maybe now is a good time to remind each other about El Shaddai’s presence.” On any day but today, Dinah would have appreciated her friend’s faith. But on her wedding day, she could see only the sun glinting off the iron swords of Esau’s army.
Joseph’s chariots arrived on the southern edge of camp well before the oxcarts, and Dinah watched the men’s distant silhouettes hurry toward the center fire, where Abba Jacob and his sons waited for the ceremony to begin.
“Driver, take my cart directly into camp!” Dinah said. “Don’t tether it with the rest of the animals.” She spoke in broken Egyptian, and the man seemed to understand, though he was hesitant to obey. “Hurry up, or I’ll drive the oxen myself!”
His reins came down hard on the oxen, but the beasts’ pace remained slow in comparison to Esau’s camels. By the time the wedding cart arrived at the central campfire, Uncle Esau stood with three weary-eyed captains beside somber-looking wedding celebrants.
“What?” Dinah shouted, hurrying from the cart without waiting for a servant’s aid. She marched toward the knot of men. “What is so important that you have to ruin my wedding day, Uncle Esau?” Dinah was huffing and panting while the coins dangling from her wedding crown jingled and danced. She pulled the jeweled veil aside and for the first time saw Job’s sullen face. Regret and fear battled for dominion. “Job, what has happened?”
Silence. She looked at Joseph, who stood beside Abba Jacob. Both men bowed their heads, while the eleven other brothers waited reverently behind them. Nogahla approached Aban, and he gathered her in his arms. Elihu looked ashen.
“Someone tell me what’s wrong!” Dinah said.
Grasping her shoulders, Job spoke without adornment. “Ishmaelite troops have attacked Dinhabah in rebellion to the Edomite claim and Bela’s reign. Bela was killed.”
Dinah remembered Aban’s prediction of violence if the Edomites gained too much control of Uz. She let the words sink in as Job continued.
“The Ishmaelites invaded the city and have returned it to its original name—Uz.”
Dinah sighed. Glancing from face to face, she felt selfish at her relief. “I’m sorry about your kinsman,” she said, “but doesn’t this mean we can return to Uz and live there as before?”
Aban stepped forward, placing Nogahla in Elihu’s reassuring arms. “No, I’m afraid no Edomite is safe in Uz right now. When the Ishmaelites invaded, Prince Bildad accompanied the army because he knew Eliphaz was still in the city.”
“Oh no!” Dinah turned to Job, cupping his cheek.
“It’s all right, my love,” Job said. “Uncle Eliphaz is safe. Bildad’s troops escorted him back to his home in Teman, while Bildad remained in Uz to protect Aban’s property and grain supplies.” Looking from Nogahla to Dinah, he said apologetically, “Aban and Nogahla must return as soon as possible, but I can never go back to Uz again.”
Dinah turned to Nogahla, and they exchanged silent sorrow. Then she met Job’s gaze again. “Aban and Nogahla will simply have to visit us then.” But she could see that his heartbreak went deeper than tribal loyalties, and the silence in the camp drained the blood from her face.
“Dinah, Yahweh restored much of my wealth after the tragedies.” Job cupped her cheeks in his hands. “But it was seized by the Ishmaelites during the raid. I have no home to offer a wife now.”
The whole world fell away, and Dinah could see only the tears of regret wetting Job’s lashes. But of what concern was gold and silver to them? He had lived on a dung pile, and they had found love amid the ashes. Peace coursed through her veins, warm and life-giving. She drew a breath to share her heart.
“No!” Aban’s voice thundered. “Bildad is a prince among his people, and I still have a household military presence in Uz to enforce my decisions.” Aban turned toward Job. “I promise that you will have every kesitah and gold ring returned to you, my friend, and I will give you fair compensation for your land and palace.” Aban extended his hand, rousing Job to embrace it and seal the pact.
“Thank you, Aban,” he said, stepping forward to grasp the man’s forearm.
“I still need a successor.” Esau’s raspy voice broke into the tender moment. “Job, you’ve always been too soft-hearted to rule,” he said, scratching his scraggly red beard. “So I’m changing your name in hopes of changing your character. You will be called Jobab, and you must learn to build the kingdom of Edom with an iron hand.”
Job lifted an eyebrow. “I have no property, Uncle. How can I build a kingdom when I cannot even build a home?” Dinah wondered if he was gently refusing Esau’s appointment.
“Might I suggest Bozrah?” Every eye turned toward Joseph, who had remained silent until now. “It’s a small town but has great potential, located near two major trade routes and protected on all sides by steep cliffs.”
Esau’s eyes narrowed at his Egyptian-looking nephew. “And how do you know so much about a city in my country, Vizier?”
Joseph’s kind face turned to quarried stone, the kohl and malachite lengthening his eyes into catlike weapons. “In the first two years of this drought, all of Egypt and Canaan traded their shekels and deben for Pharaoh’s food. Now, in the third year, they trade their livestock for a cup of grain.” He leaned forward. “But what if I’m not content to just build Pharaoh’s kingdom?” His gold neck band and headpiece gleamed in the sun, causing Esau to squint at the reflection. “You see, Uncle, I have sent scouts into Edom to prepare for the day when your people come to Pharaoh begging bread.”
“How dare you!” The red man matched the flags of his standard-bearers.
“I dare because I am the vizier of the most powerful kingdom on earth, and you would do well to curry my favor.” Without waiting for an answer, Joseph wrapped his arm around Job’s shoulder. “King Jobab will soon be the beloved husband of my favorite sister, and he is mistaken when he says he has no home. He will soon enjoy great prosperity. Aban has promised to return his wealth from Uz, and I am providing an enormous bride-price.” Turning to Abba Jacob, Joseph said, “And I’m sure my abba wants to add to the bounty.”
For the first time since Joseph began his discourse, Esau’s crimson began to fade. “So, Jacob, do you agree? Will you add to Joseph’s bride-price for your daughter?”
Dinah watched her abba wilt under Joseph’s scrutiny. She knew he would rather die than disappoint his favorite son. “Of course, yes,” Jacob grumbled. “I plan to offer Job a bride-price as well.”
Esau’s satisfied grin nearly ruined the victory for Dinah, but Job’s humble voice interrupted the outpouring of generosity. “I’m deeply grateful for your gifts, but one question remains.” Turning to Dinah, he grasped both hands and gazed into her eyes. “We found our love amid the ashes,” he said. “Can you now love a king?”
In the distance, a trilling sound anointed the moment. Oop-oop-oop. They gasped in unison, and Dinah glanced up at every date palm tree in the camp, hoping to find the precious hoopoe.
Tenderly, Job caught her chin and kissed her gently.
Suspended in the moment, she could barely breathe. The taste of his kiss. The beating of her heart. The reminder of God’s lifelong presence.
“Can you love a king?” he asked again.
“I love Job,” she said.
Thunder gently rumbled through Egypt’s Black Land, and a cool breeze stirred the trees. Dinah saw her reflection in Job’s eyes—a woman loved. And her heart soared at Yahweh’s pleasure.
Epilogue
~Job 42:12–17~
The LORD blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the first. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys. And he also had seven sons and three daughters. The first daughter he named Jemimah, the second Keziah and the third Keren-Happuch. Nowhere in all the land were there found women as beautiful as Job’s daughters, and their father granted them an inheritance along with their brothers. After this, Job lived a hundred and forty years; he saw his children and their children to the fourth generation. And so he died, old and full of years.
Author’s Note
It has been my pleasure and privilege to search out hidden treasures and craft a story that confounds, thrills, and challenges you to open your Bible. Some people have asked how I can write biblical fiction when God’s Word is truth. I hope that by sharing an illustration, I’ll help you understand biblical fiction better.
Have you ever pulled your sweatpants out of the dryer and noticed the drawstring had slipped out of the waistband? Well, the tedious task of weaving that drawstring back into the waistband is a little like writing biblical fiction. The inerrant Word of God is like the waistband—fixed and unchanging. The elusive historical facts and flexible plotline are like the drawstring that a writer must weave through Scripture to pull the story together.
Some of the characters in Love Amid the Ashes are readily named in Scripture: Isaac, Jacob, Esau, Dinah, Job, etc. Other characters are named in historical texts outside of Scripture. For instance, in an ancient Jewish text called the Testament of Job, Job’s wife is described as Arabian and given the name Sitis. In this mystical accounting of Job’s life, I gleaned many plot ideas, using subtle variations to make the story more believable in the biblical context.
Dr. Karl Kutz, chairman of Multnomah University’s biblical languages department, helped me immensely in my search for historical context. Although he was quick to point out the problems associated with trying to place the book of Job on a linear timeline, Dr. Kutz noted the connection inferred by the Hebrew term for Job’s “servants” (Job 1:3), which occurs elsewhere only in the Genesis story of Isaac (Gen. 26:14). Similarly, the Hebrew term for the gift of silver kesitahs Job’s family gives (Job 42:11) is found only in Genesis 33:19 and Joshua 24:32. Also, he agrees it is certainly feasible that Job lived during the patriarchal era since the Septuagint (a Greek translation of the Old Testament) records Job’s death at 248 years old.
Dr. Kutz pointed out an addendum to the book of Job in the Septuagint that links Job to the historical character Jobab (mentioned in Gen. 36:33). It also says Job took an Arabian wife (which I present as Ishmaelite), and gives Job’s first son the name Ennon. Although the data found in the appendix is of questionable historical value and reflects an attempt to historicize the character of Job, it does support a popular perception that Job was a contemporary of the patriarchs and provides a convenient setting for the story.
Mystery also surrounds the ancient city of Uz, causing some commentators to place it north of Canaan, near Aram, while others position it on southern borders between Edom and Arabia. The fact is, we don’t know. This uncertainty makes my fiction drawstring possible and pliable. I chose to settle Uz on the border of Edom and Arabia and studied the mountains of Edom that skirted the Transjordan Highway. After realizing Petra was nearby, I created ancient Uz with amenities more congruent with Petra’s Nabataean period but authenticated locations and descriptions of forests and natural springs with nasa.gov radar images. Unfortunately, I’ve never personally visited Petra, so I found myself thankful for an imagination and www.youtube.com.
Rabbinical tradition is a vital part of the Jewish faith, and two more texts formed my thinking on the permeating concept of the House of Shem. The Book of Jasher is a Hebrew text referenced in the Old Testament (Josh. 10:13; 2 Sam. 1:18); however, present-day copies of the original text have not been authenticated. In the faithful translations available, chapter 28 says, “Jacob is sent to the House of Shem . . . to learn the Way of the Lord, but Esau would not go.” A later work by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, refers repeatedly to the House of Shem. It attributes the godly educations of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and even Melchizedek (the priest of God Most High to whom Abraham paid a tithe in Genesis 14) to the teachings of Shem and his descendants. Though not biblical fact, the House of Shem is a rabbinical tradition that has survived millennia.
I began my research at the Multnomah University library with A Commentary on the Book of Job by Édouard Dhorme (Nelson, 1984). Like many women, I’ve wondered if commentators have an opinion about the identity of Job’s unnamed wife. Seeing no mention of her name or lineage there, I thumbed to chapter 42 to search comments on Job’s restitution and second-family blessing. And there it was—the first time I saw Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, suggested as Job’s second wife. My imagination exploded, and the seedling story was planted.
Rabbinic traditions such as the Targum of Job and Pseudo-Philo identified Dinah as Job’s one and only wife, having borne all twenty children, and suffering his enduring trials and eventual restitution. As mentioned earlier, the Septuagint identifies Job’s wife as Arabian. The author of the Testament of Job combines the two traditions, making Dinah Job’s wife after Sitis dies during his suffering. I was thrilled at the prospect of Job’s healing and Dinah’s redemption; however, I then discovered Genesis 46, in which Dinah accompanied her father, Jacob, to Egypt. Suddenly my fiction “drawstring” was hung up in the biblical “waistband,” and I had no idea how to pull it through. How could Dinah live in Egypt with her father if she married Job in Uz?
I continued to research. The Bible describes Esau’s move from Canaan to the Seir Mountains and his Ishmaelite, Hivite, and Hittite wives. But the cultural and geographical significance of Edom’s melting pot blossomed in my imagination after I read Whence Came the Hyksos, Kings of Egypt? by David J. Gibson. Though Mr. Gibson’s theories are controversial, they added a dimension of Egypt’s involvement with Edom that opened my mind to Esau’s possible political role in history. Esau provided a believable caravan to transfer Dinah to Egypt and a despicable ploy to lure her. My drawstring broke free!
Finally, the little hoopoe bird ties a lovely drawstring bow, pulling together plot, history, and God’s Word. Mentioned twice in Scripture (Lev. 11:19; Deut. 14:18), the hoopoe bird was chosen as Israel’s first national bird on May 30, 2008. Though biblically categorized as unclean, the beautiful creature won Israel’s heart above the red falcon, the white-chested kingfisher, the white barn owl, and other birds.[1] Once again, my little hoopoe sings its victory song.
Thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to weave the drawstring through God’s Word with me. I hope you can see that biblical fiction is so much more than a fanciful imagining of how things might have been. It is truly my heart cry to know how biblical characters experienced the God I know today. Blessings and shalom to you.
Acknowledgments
Philosophers say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, I’ve often felt like a child in my efforts to write this book, and have been so thankful to the village of friends, family, and colleagues who assisted, educated, and inspired me.
To my writers’ group: Meg Wilson, for her long hours of phone edits, face-to-face encouragement, and late-night, last-minute counseling sessions. Velynn Brown, for seeing the overall picture and challenging me to feel more deeply on the page. Michele Nordquist, for her faithfulness to this project through email, though we’ve met only three times—she was at times the
wind that propelled me forward. And to my sweet husband—the final detail man with his professor’s red pen.
To my daughters, Trina and Emily, for being my best friends, brilliant young women, and cherished babies forever. To my parents, Charley and Mary Cooley, for blessing me with a godly heritage and a love of God’s Word. To the parents of my heart, Pat and Sharie Johnson, for the tangible and intangible blessings your love brings into our lives. To my dear father-in-law, Bill Kidwell, who cooked many dinners for the family while I was sequestered at my computer.
To Vicki Crumpton: I had no idea an editor could be so kind and encouraging, a cheerleader from beginning to end. To Dan Thornberg for the gorgeous cover. To the rest of the Revell team, who led me like a babe through my first publishing maze. Michele Misiak, Jessica Miles, and Cheryl Van Andel: your patience resembles that of—well, Job.
To our Multnomah University family: Dr. Karl Kutz, who graciously spent lunches and many emails answering a myriad of Hebrew and cultural questions, and who has graciously accepted a fictional retelling of the precise historical data he spent years researching. To the Multnomah library crew: Suzanne Smith for her help in securing research materials, and Pam Middleton for her patience when I kept items well past the due dates.
To the incredible biblical fiction authors who have influenced my life by their expertise and well-researched novels: Francine Rivers’s Mark of the Lion series for whetting my appetite and adding depth and dimension to the biblical era; Anita Diamant’s The Red Tent for my first inspiration of a fascinating retelling of the patriarchal era from a Jewish perspective; and Angela Hunt’s series on Joseph, Legacies of the Ancient River, for its vivid insights into Egyptian life.
