Finally he turned and walked heavily back to Rachel’s tent. He stepped inside and found her seated on a mat on the floor, just staring into space. Jacob hesitated, then went over and sat down beside her. Putting his arm around her, he held her close and said, “Did you hear that fight I had with your father?” He waited for an answer, but Rachel did not speak, did not even indicate she had heard him. Leaning closer, he saw in the faint light of the tent that she had been weeping. Her eyes were swollen, and he whispered, “Rachel…my beloved Rachel! What’s wrong with you?”
Still there was no answer, and Jacob sat there for a long time. Fear gripped his heart as he thought about losing this woman. He knew he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone on earth, and he began to pray to the Almighty, asking His favor.
To Laban’s great relief, Jacob went to work the next day. Benzar and Lomach avoided him, keeping their eyes on him from a distance, but Jacob’s rage appeared to be gone.
Jacob was ashamed of himself for having lost his temper, but at least it had accomplished one thing: his two worthless brothers-in-law had been frightened into working, at least some of the time.
When Jacob began work at the end of that week, he was met by Laban, whose face had a peculiar expression.
“What is it?” Jacob asked at once.
“It’s Leah.”
“Has the baby come?” Jacob was ashamed of his treatment of Leah. He knew he had neglected her lately, but he had been so troubled about Rachel, he could not think properly. Leah was a hard woman to love anyway. Her appeal for him had always been physical, but now even that had passed away. He was actually surprised when she had gotten pregnant again.
“Yes,” Laban said, “and it’s a girl this time.”
“A girl?” Jacob said, astonished. After ten sons, the arrival of a girl was indeed a surprise. He shoved past Laban and went into the tent, where he found the old midwife Lamah cleaning up from the birth.
Moving over to Leah, Jacob bent down and put his hand on her head. “Was it a hard time?” he asked gently.
“No, not this time. We have a daughter.”
“Yes. Let me see.” Jacob picked up the baby and saw that her hair was the same chestnut color as his own. “A fine girl,” he said.
“You always wanted sons.”
“We have plenty of sons,” Jacob said, smiling. “This one will be special.” He kissed the baby’s forehead and said, “What will we call her?”
“Her name is Dinah.”
“Dinah. A fine name,” Jacob said with approval. He held her up, bracing her back with one hand, and felt a gush of affection. A girl would be better. Someone he could pour his affection on openly. He could not do that with boys, especially as they grew. He laughed and said again, “This one will be very special indeed.”
Leah was surprised at Jacob’s pleasure; she had expected him to be disappointed. Wearily she closed her eyes and said, “I expect you will spoil her terribly.”
“You’re right about that. What is an only daughter for if not to spoil?” Jacob was surprised at the warmth he felt toward his little girl. He had not known he wanted a daughter, but now he was pleased and excited. “You and I will be great friends,” he whispered. “You will grow up and please your father in everything you do.”
“No woman could ever do that,” Leah said jadedly, closing her eyes.
Jacob shook his head. “This one will,” he said. “She’ll be everything a woman ought to be!”
Chapter 17
A distant muffled voice spoke to Rachel. She struggled to understand, concentrating on who might be speaking to her. The voice spoke again—this time more clearly, right in her ear.
“Mistress, please let me help you.”
The mist in Rachel’s mind cleared away, as if she were coming out of deep sleep. The features of the woman next to her swam in disarray, then pulled themselves together, and she saw the face of Bilhah.
“What did you say, Bilhah?”
Rachel could see that Bilhah was relieved. Her wrinkled brow relaxed, and she reached out and touched Rachel’s hair.
“Your hair is so dirty, mistress, and you need a bath. And look at your robe. You spilled food all over it.”
Looking down, Rachel saw that her robe was indeed spotted with dried food. She tried to remember when it had happened but could not. She could not even remember the last time she ate. She touched the food smudges and looked up. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I can wash the robe—and let me clean your face and wash your hair.”
Rachel touched her hair and found it stiff with dirt, and she pulled at it, not remembering when it was last washed. Events came and went in her mind, and she could not piece them together in a logical time sequence.
“All right, Bilhah.”
The maidservant began to clean Rachel up. She removed her robe and washed her thoroughly with tepid water, then put a clean robe on her and had her lie back while she washed her hair. For Rachel it seemed to take a long time, and she listened to the sounds of children laughing outside the tent.
“Where are the boys?” she asked finally.
“Dan and Naphtali? That’s who you hear outside. Would you like to see them?”
Rachel tried to concentrate on the question but could not. In terror, she felt herself slipping away, and she knew that something was dreadfully wrong with her. Random thoughts ran through her mind and memories of faces, especially Jacob’s face. She cried out, “Jacob…husband!” But even as she cried, she felt herself going away again to that murky place she hated. She tried to stop herself, but it was as if she had fallen off of some high mountain cliff and was now plunging down. The voice calling her grew more distant as the depths below darkened and she could no longer hear the woman. She had forgotten her name in any case.
“…and she came to herself, and I asked if I could clean her up, and I did, master. But while I was washing her hair, she slipped away again.” Bilhah’s face twisted with emotion as she looked down at Rachel. She had such a great love for her mistress, and now she picked at her robe and tears filled her eyes. “What’s wrong with her, Jacob?”
“I don’t know, Bilhah. Something dreadful.”
Jacob had come quickly at Bilhah’s urgent summons and had entered the tent to find Bilhah weeping and Rachel lying down, clean now but with her eyes closed. She did not awaken when he called to her.
“Sometimes she seems to know everything,” Bilhah whimpered, “but at other times it’s like she just goes away somewhere. I’m frightened for her.”
Jacob bit his lower lip. “So am I, Bilhah. So am I.”
“She’s always been so careful to take care of herself. She loves to take baths and have me wash her hair, and now she doesn’t care.”
Jacob did not respond. Everyone could see that Rachel had been growing worse. Some said she was touched with evil spirits, and they refused to even get close to her. If it had not been for Bilhah, who had devoted almost all of her waking hours to taking care of her, Jacob did not know what he would have done. Now sitting beside his favorite wife—the Beloved Wife—he stroked her hair and tried to pray. But the words would not come. He had prayed and prayed until there was nothing left to say. He had fasted, and sleep had left him, but still Rachel had gone away from him.
Finally he arose and said, “I’m going out someplace where I can be alone.”
“Keep praying for her, master,” Bilhah said. “I’m afraid she’s going to die.”
“She’s not any better, daughter,” Laban said heavily. He looked across at Leah, who was nursing Dinah and shook his head sadly. “Why has this come upon us?”
Leah stroked the infant’s head but had no answer.
“I don’t think she can live long if she doesn’t get well,” Laban said.
“There’s nothing wrong with her physically, Father.”
“Yes there is. She won’t eat unless someone makes her. Haven’t you seen how she’s lost weight?”
Leah had indeed noticed how thin Rachel had become. Bilhah and Jacob had to almost force her to eat when she was at her worst.
“I thought it would help that she was praying to our gods,” Laban remarked.
Leah looked up, her eyes narrow. “What are you talking about? She prays to the God of Jacob.”
“No. She prays to my gods,” Laban said, nodding his head firmly. “I’ve come into my tent several times when she’s had my gods out praying to them.”
“How do you know she was praying? Did she say anything out loud?”
“No, but her lips were moving. Why else would she get them out and her lips be moving if she weren’t praying?”
Leah shook her head. “I don’t think that’s possible. She hasn’t had any confidence in your gods for a long time.”
“Well, she should have! I think maybe she must have displeased one of them or maybe more. That’s the only reason I can think of why she’s lost her mind.”
Leah did not answer, but for a long time after Laban left, she pondered what her father had said. “Praying to those gods? That doesn’t sound like Rachel,” she muttered. Even though she herself was inclined to pray to the idols, she knew Rachel was not that way. Finally, she shook her head. “He must have been wrong about it.”
The stone was cool under Rachel’s hands at first, but then it seemed to burn as if she had picked up a hot coal. Pain surged through her palm, and she dropped the stone and stepped backward as confusion swept through her.
What am I doing here?
She looked around wildly, recognizing that she was in her father’s tent but having no memory of how she got there. And then suddenly she saw the idols her father so feared and that she had feared also until…until what? Until when? She had learned to trust the God of Jacob. She stared at the idols as they were ranked on a shelf where her father customarily put them up from time to time so that he could kneel before them. They were of all shapes. One of them was a woman with a head like a bull. Another was a snakelike form with a woman’s upper body and a snake’s dotted eyes and fangs. Still another was an image of a fat man with puffed-out cheeks and eyes squeezed together.
Rachel stared at them and faint memories trickled down. She vaguely remembered having come to her father’s tent to pray to these idols to give her a child. The memories became clearer, and she covered her eyes and fell down on the rug, sobbing. The sides of the tent seemed to close in upon her. She had grown from faith in the idols to doubt, and now she knew that whatever power they might have, there was also a dark power within her. She sobbed and cried out, “Oh, God, I didn’t mean it!”
She hid her face and felt as if hands were picking at her, trying to get inside her. She was too weak to move at first, but finally, when she felt herself being invaded, she jumped to her feet and rushed out into the night. The stars were faint overhead, and the moon was hidden behind a filmy cloud. Rachel stumbled over a tent peg and fell headlong, then picked herself up and rushed out of the camp, fear driving her far from the idols.
She ran until she was gasping for breath. She fell to her knees and rested her hands on the earth. The sand was still warm, but the fear of what had taken place did not leave. She began to sob great choking sobs and curled up into a fetal position.
The fear that swept over her was like a great hand squeezing her, but inside her head or her heart was a tiny bit of resistance. Yet the eyes of the idols seemed to bore into her even though her own eyes were closed and her hands covered them.
“Please, God, help me!” she cried. And then again, “I’m sorry, great Lord! I didn’t know what I was doing. Help me! Don’t let me fall!”
She felt as if she were hanging on to a cliff and now her grasp was loosening. She dreaded falling into the darkness, for she knew that in that darkness were terrible, fearful things. She remembered how in the darkest hour of the wanderings of her mind she had felt them clawing at her, crying out with wild voices, pulling her down so that she would become one with them.
She lay sobbing, all light shut out as she pressed her hands against her face. Fear pierced her like a sword, and she shook from head to foot.
Finally, she somehow knew that her mind was being touched in a calming way. The weird cries of the idols as they pulled at her began to fade away…farther and farther…until her trembling ceased. She was still afraid to move her hands from her eyes, but then out of the silence arose what sounded like a wind far off in distant trees, a mere whispering. But it began to grow and gather force, and then Rachel heard a voice—a soft voice yet so strong! Stronger than any voice she had ever heard! She understood that this was the God of Abraham and of Isaac and of Jacob. She pulled herself up to a kneeling position and put her forehead on the earth, whispering, “Oh, Lord, God of Abraham, have mercy on me.”
The voice seemed to come through her ears as a faint whisper, but down inside her mind and in her heart it grew stronger. She was almost afraid to breathe as the words became clearer.
“You have behaved foolishly, my child. You have turned from the one who is all-powerful to gods who have eyes but see not and have ears but hear not. Because you have turned from me, you have been troubled.”
The voice went on, the very quality of it somehow calming Rachel. She knew that the one who spoke to her was the one who had created all the heavens and the earth. A part of her trembled at the power and strength in that voice, yet another part of her surrendered to the love in it—a love Rachel could not comprehend. It caused her to cry out, “Oh, God, forgive me!”
“You have doubted your God, but you must have faith. There is nothing too difficult for me, and you will bear a son if you will only believe my voice.”
And then, as she knelt before God in the darkness under the stars, she cried out with a voice of praise, “Blessed be the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob! I believe, O God. It shall be even as you say.”
Rachel knelt for a long time after the voice had stopped speaking to her. A continuous river of love flowed into her and around her, and she knew that what had been promised would come to pass. She got to her feet, her strength almost gone. Not only was she half starved, but being in the presence of the Creator of all things had drained her. She stumbled back toward the tent with one thing in her mind. I must tell Jacob what I have done and what I have heard!
As she returned, bursting with the news, inexplicably Rachel felt the Lord telling her to keep silent about the promise she had been given. She could not understand this at all; nevertheless, the next day when Jacob arose, she was there, standing over him.
He sat up at once. “Rachel, are you all right?”
“Yes, husband. I am all right. I am fine.”
Jacob got up and took her in his arms. She was thin and her face drawn, but he exclaimed, “Your eyes—they’re clear!”
“Yes, and I must tell you what I have done and ask your forgiveness.”
“What do you mean, Rachel? You’ve been very ill.”
“I was ill,” she said, “because I committed a sin against the Eternal God. The God of all the earth.”
“Sin? What sin?”
“I was so anxious for a child that I forsook the God of your fathers, husband, and I prayed to my father’s idols.” Her trembling hand touched his chest. He covered it with his own hands, and she whispered, “I was so weak. I have watched my people pray to these gods all my life, but you have taught me of the true God, and I should have known better. I do know better now.”
“What has happened?”
“I think God allowed my soul to be troubled when I chose to go away from Him, but last night I found your God, Jacob, and now He is my God too.”
Jacob insisted on knowing everything, and she told of her experience in a voice filled with excitement. He held her tightly and kissed her, saying, “I’m so glad for you, Rachel. I was so afraid.”
“I’ve been a trial to you, husband, but now it’s over.”
“Thank God,” Jacob whispered. He held her tightly
and felt the lightness of her body. “You’re back again, Rachel, and now I feel that life is worth living.”
Everyone was shocked at Rachel’s return. It was as if she had come back from the dead. She began eating and gained weight rapidly. Her cheeks filled out, as did her body, so that as the weeks passed she became more beautiful than ever. Her hair, which had grown lank and dull, was lustrous again, and her eyes were wide with excitement.
Jacob, of course, was more ecstatic than anyone over Rachel’s recovery. For a time he could not convince himself it was real, and he stayed with her constantly. He would reach out and touch her, anxiously asking, “Are you all right, Rachel?”
And she would laugh and say, “Yes. I’m all right.”
Once, soon after Rachel had regained her full strength, the two of them were sitting before the fire late at night. She was singing to him and telling him stories, and Jacob was fully content. But finally he frowned and said, “You know, I’m so happy, but there’s one problem.”
“What is it, Jacob?”
“I feel like a slave here, Rachel,” Jacob said quietly. “Your father is a hard master. He changes my wages so that I can never own anything. I want to leave here, and I want us to have a family where we can be our own masters and not be servants to anyone.”
“If that’s what you want, husband, then that’s what you must do.”
“Do you think I can?”
“Yes. You can do anything you want, Jacob. You remember the promise God made to you back when you saw the stairway reaching up to heaven?”
“I’ve thought of it every day since then.”
“The God who spoke to you is real.”
“But why hasn’t He spoken to me again?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t speak to me until I was almost gone. But He loves you, Jacob. That’s what I found out. He’s the God of love as well as the God of power.”
The Gate of Heaven Page 15
