Wings of the Wind

by Connilyn Cossette

  Tzipi turned to watch us approach, and I questioned her presence with a lift of my brows. She turned her back to me, making a show of stirring a pot of stew over the fire, but not before I caught a playful smirk toward my wife. The expression may have been small, but the gesture was not—the two women I loved most in this world had made peace. I prayed it would last, or I’d not have a moment of rest until they placed me in my grave.

  Perhaps now that Tzipi had found some measure of healing over Shimon’s death, she would be open to the possibility of accepting Uriya, who I’d decided would indeed make an excellent choice of husband for my sister. My beautiful sister was young and full of life, and although Uriya was older and no match for Shimon’s wit and audacity, he was a good man, a man who’d deeply loved his wife who’d died in childbirth and was a strong yet compassionate father to his nearly grown sons. After months of her bothering me about marrying Keziah, the least I could do was repay her in kind . . .

  A small group of children, including my nephew Liyam, paraded through the campsite, earning chastisement from Tzipi to not run so close to the fire.

  Liyam caught sight of Alanah and me and with a wide grin headed for me, wrapping his small arms around my knees. “Tobiah! Where have you been?”

  I slung the boy over my shoulder, amused by his squeals of delight. “I have been hunting wild creatures like you.”

  “Catch anything?” he called from behind my back, his dirty toes wiggling near my chin.

  “Only the most elusive prey of all.” I tipped a sly grin at Alanah. “A red-haired vixen.” I flipped Liyam back over to set him on the ground. The boy ran off to rejoin Alanah’s young sisters in their game of chase, farther away from the fire—and my sister’s wooden spoon.

  “I do believe I tracked you this morning, husband.” Alanah poked my chest with a finger. “Although it wasn’t too difficult—a blind man could follow your trail.”

  “Oh now, I believe that is a challenge.” I leaned close, my lips grazing her ear. “Perhaps we should do more hunting later. I did find a large tamarisk tree to take shelter beneath . . .”

  I reveled in the deep flush of her cheeks, but before I could deliver another teasing quip, Alanah’s mother and sister emerged from their tent, their wary eyes on us and their red hair announcing their familial tie to my wife. As usual, Rahab clutched her baby close to her chest, as if I was likely to snatch the infant from her arms. Alanah had described the suffering both women had endured, so their defensive posture and guardedness was understandable. Alanah had learned to trust me after a time—perhaps these women would find healing among us as well.

  “Ima. Rahab. This is my husband, Tobiah.” The pride in Alanah’s voice made a lump swell in my throat. “He came to meet Natanyah.”

  I glanced behind the women into their empty tent. Where was this person Alanah spoke of? Moriyah had not mentioned meeting another woman during their escape, but Alanah had said something about the three of them safely crossing the river.

  Rahab stepped forward and handed her baby to Alanah. The infant burbled and smiled up at my wife. Understanding smashed through the thick wall in my mind, just as Alanah turned to me with unmistakable joy on her lovely face.

  “This is Natanyah. Your daughter.” Before I could protest, Alanah lifted the tiny girl and placed her in my arms. I was afraid to breathe. Afraid to hold her too tightly. Afraid I might drop her.

  “Daughter?” My thick tongue stumbled over the word. “You were . . . You were with child when you left?” Alanah nodded, truth shining in her eyes. My courageous wife had endured even more than I had guessed.

  The warmth of the baby’s small body against my chest scrambled my thoughts until I could do nothing but stare at her, searching her features for traces of myself. And although the wisps of red-flame curls were Alanah’s, I was there in the shape of her eyes, the same as my twin sister’s, and the cleft chin that was hidden beneath my beard. This child was mine. Mine and Alanah’s.

  I am a father.

  Alanah moved closer, until only the baby—only Natanyah—was between us. Everything in my world shifted again, expanding to make room for the change.

  Epilogue

  Alanah

  1 NISSAN

  1399 BC

  The houses had long since crumbled; a mixture of fire, rain, and time had toppled nearly every mud brick to the ground. I was glad they were gone and every harsh memory with them. The evil had been burned out of this valley and swept away on the wings of the wind, leaving only the promise of a new life among the hills I loved.

  The fields were overgrown, plagued with tall weeds that stood like bushy giants among the once-graceful stalks of wheat and barley that had swayed in tandem under spring breezes.

  Even the long lines of rock fences, so carefully stacked and tended by my father, showed their age, many of them lying sprawled on the ground or missing stones like gapped teeth. The olive trees had survived the neglect but were in desperate need of pruning. I restrained a groan, but Tobiah must have seen the frustration on my face.

  “We knew this would be a lot of work, Alanah.” He slipped his arm around my waist. “And we have many hands to help us.”

  “I’m not concerned about the labor involved,” I said. “I only wish I were able to help more right now.”

  He splayed his warm hand across my ever-expanding belly. “Only a few more weeks.” He kissed the side of my neck. “And then I’ll put you to work. Can’t have you getting lazy on me. I need someone to dress my game.”

  I elbowed him in the gut. “Don’t you mean dress my game? These are my hunting grounds, you know. I know every wadi, every trail, every secret cave.”

  “Ah. You’ll have to make sure to acquaint me with such places—” He took a nip at my ear and then whispered, “Alone. Without the children.”

  “Abba!” Natanyah howled. “Mikal hit me!”

  My ever-patient husband turned to quell the sibling argument between our two oldest children. Naming our first son after Moriyah’s false identity had been Tobiah’s idea; he’d insisted that Shimon would have found the idea hilarious. I still smiled every time I thought of that girl striding through the countryside, all masculine legs and shoulders and clapping with glee whenever she managed to trick someone into believing she was a boy.

  Watching her wave goodbye as we left her behind with her family at Shiloh had been one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. In spite of the painful ostracism she suffered, and the ever-present veil that covered her scar, her sweetness endured. Although she found solace in her talent for cooking and insisted that she was content with her lot and did not need a husband, I prayed that Yahweh would provide a man who would be blind to the brand and see only the gem hidden beneath.

  What grace Yahweh had, that this portion of the new land had fallen to the tribe of Yehudah. Tobiah had petitioned Yehoshua himself for permission to settle back in the valley of my childhood. Due to my husband’s loyal, fearless service in the army of Israel, along with the influence of Rahab’s husband, Salmon, one of the leaders of the tribe of Yehudah, the request had been graciously obliged.

  My mother, with our youngest son Lev in her arms, appeared beside me as I surveyed the winding terraces that embraced the hills. Terraces that I could already imagine would thrive again soon, with the help of Tzipi’s strong boys, her husband Uriya, and Uriya’s two grown sons.

  “I never thought I would see this valley again,” my mother said as she leaned her cheek against her grandson’s reddish-brown hair. “I had forgotten how beautiful it is.”

  “I am glad you are here, Ima.” I linked my arm through hers. “I know this must be difficult for you.”

  She released a weighty sigh. “My time here was short, Alanah, but every inch of this place is filled with memories of you.” She smiled. “My tiny kalanit, her red head bouncing through the green fields, barely visible above the wheat stalks.”

  I cast a glance back at Natanyah, who was exploring the ruins of
the houses with Tobiah, her little hand clasped in his enormous one. Her red hair glimmered in the sun as she chattered to him with wide gestures and vivacious tones. The two of them had been smitten with each other since the moment he’d held her in his arms, and I prayed fervently that the battles with the remaining Canaanite tribes were over for now. My little gift needed her abba to walk by her side as she grew into whatever purpose Yahweh had planned for her.

  Just as Yahweh had devised a purpose for me, before I had even known he was beside me—I’d never been alone.

  A Note from the Author

  The forty years of wandering are, in many ways, a giant blank space with only a few tantalizing clues as to where exactly the Hebrews went and how the people of God changed during that period. We know that after Sinai they made a number of encampments and endured the horrific fallout from Korah’s rebellion (Numbers 16), but we do not know the exact timing or location of any of these events. My choice to place Korah’s rebellion in the last third of the forty-year wandering was completely artistic and it could very well have happened much earlier. Without a doubt, the memory of watching the earth swallow men, women, and children would have greatly impacted the Hebrews, as it did Tobiah.

  Throughout the wanderings, God fed his people every day with manna. What exactly was this food? We have only a vague description: that it was small like coriander seeds and tasted sweet. To be a substance that would sustain a person, it must have been the perfect balance of fats, carbohydrates, proteins, vitamins, and minerals. I considered how such a food like this would affect the human body and imagined that it would provide abundant energy for the long journey, aid with building and maintaining muscle, and give the people who partook of it a health they had not experienced in Egypt, where they lived on slave rations. And considering that the Word of God, and therefore Jesus himself, is compared to manna, the spiritual implications of daily consumption are of critical importance to those who follow Jesus. To Alanah, who has only begun to taste of the “bread of life,” its flavor is exciting and the newness of its mystery fascinating. If readers get anything from my books, I hope that it is a desire to taste the Word again and regain that sense of wonder about the mystery of a God who desires his children to be fed from its nourishment daily. May it never be mundane to us, or a drudgery, to collect the freely given treasures tucked between its pages.

  Although it may have been difficult to read about the atrocities of Canaan, as much as it was to write some of them, I felt it was necessary to depict the brutal nature of the tribes that made up Canaan. As Tobiah says in Chapter Three, the people of Canaan (specifically the Amorites) were given over four hundred years to turn from their evil (Genesis 15:12–16). Think of how long that is— about the same gap exists between the Pilgrims setting foot on Plymouth Rock in 1620 and today. God gave them four hundred years of grace before kicking them out of the Promised Land. And although the Bible says nothing about prophets warning the Canaanites, from the pattern established since the days of Noah, I believe that God may have repeatedly warned them to repent or face coming judgment. The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah would have been a visible and lasting reminder to the people who lived in this area of just what could happen. Yahweh is a God who values life, and from the beginning, when Cain slew Abel, he insisted that those who spilled the blood of innocents be brought to justice. Throughout history, civilizations that destroyed human life in sacrifice to their gods disappeared, in one way or the other. The various tribes of Canaan were absolutely numbered among them. The implications for our own culture is sobering.

  Rahab is a fascinating historical figure. This book began to spin around in my mind after a conversation with my mother, who was discussing this Canaanite prostitute in a Bible study group. What would make a woman, whose people were the enemies of God, choose to put her own life in danger to hide two Hebrew spies? Without a doubt she would have been rewarded if she’d turned them in to the king of Jericho. Of course the Bible says that the people of the city were terrified of what they’d heard of the Hebrews, but I wondered how God was at work behind the scenes, and how the foundation was laid, years before, that led up to the decision that would put Rahab within the royal lineage of Messiah Jesus.

  It is fascinating to me to consider how our lives affect one another and even the lives of people we do not even know—and also how sometimes our poor choices may end up being used to glorify God in ways we never thought possible. So I wondered, who could have possibly influenced Rahab? Who could have brought her news of the Hebrews and the miraculous ways of Yahweh and convinced her that life among the Israelites was preferable to Jericho? My answer of course was Alanah, an unknown sister inspired by the command in Deuteronomy 21:10–14 that Canaanite women could be chosen as wives for the Hebrews but were to be treated with a dignity unheard of during this era of brutal warfare, where most captive women were enslaved, raped, and/or killed.

  We have no other clues about Rahab’s life, other than she chose to live with the Hebrews, follow Yahweh, and ended up marrying Salmon (Matthew 1:5) to become the great-grandmother of none other than King David. But undoubtedly the life she’d lived prior to Jericho’s walls tumbling down was a sad and painful one. Sex slavery in all its forms is an assault on human life. Unfortunately, the horrors of human trafficking are not relegated to the ancient past. By some estimations, nearly thirty million people are currently enslaved worldwide, the majority of which are women and girls. If your heart, like mine, is broken by such an atrocity but you are unsure how to be a part of the solution, I would encourage you to start by watching the documentary Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide, which was inspired by the book Half the Sky by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. You can also go to my website, www.connilyncossette.com, where there is information on how you can be involved with setting the captives free, one precious life at a time.

  It is so bittersweet to be wrapping up the OUT FROM EGYPT series, and I am so grateful for all the people who have worked to make it possible, including Raela Schoenherr, Charlene Patterson, and Jen Veilleux, the most excellent of editors; Jennifer Parker, who designed the beautiful covers; Noelle Chew and Amy Green in Marketing, and all the rest of the fabulous Bethany House team who have supported and encouraged me in so many ways. Meeting you all in person this year highlighted just how blessed I am to be a part of Bethany House.

  Special thanks to Tammy Gray and Nicole Deese for being such excellent writing partners, for keeping me on my toes and challenging me to be a better writer, and for being such precious sisters in Christ. I am overjoyed that you both are a part of my life. Thanks also to Tim Deese, who read my battle scenes and made sure they weren’t too girly and gave me excellent advice that enhanced those scenes greatly. Lori Bates Wright and Dana Red, thank you, my beautiful friends, for your constant encouragement and your excellent critiques. I am so grateful that the Lord brought such wonderful writers and friends into my life. Thank you as well to my beta readers—Juli Williams, Ashley Espinoza, Kristen Roberts, and Karla Marroquin—for your willingness to trudge through my early drafts. Thank you to my mother, Jodi Lagrou, for sparking the idea of this story in the first place. Thank you to my fabulous agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, for your constant support and encouragement. And last but certainly not least, thank you to my precious family—Chad, Collin, and Corrianna, you are my heart and I love you all to the moon and back.

  Questions for Conversation

  Wings of the Wind was inspired by Deuteronomy 21:10–14, which gives the Hebrew men directives on treating a captive woman with dignity. Alanah begins her journey with the Hebrews as a captive but comes to see how God’s laws are for the protection of women and children, which is a stark contrast to her own culture. How does Alanah’s story change your perception of the ways God’s laws protected and provided for women in a brutal tribal culture that viewed them as property and commodities?

  Along with having to shave her head, Alanah must give up the goddess a
mulet she wore, submit to the Hebrews’ laws, and adopt their lifestyle and culture. What things have you had to put aside to pursue new life in Jesus? As you examine your own heart, what things are you struggling to leave behind? How have you seen your life and desires change since you came to faith?

  Although Alanah begins the story as a hardhearted enemy of the Hebrew people, the kindness and guidance of a number of other characters cause her to question her opinions and gain new understanding of Yahweh. Who did God use to influence your own journey toward faith? What was it about that person that was different? Who else in your life has been an influential reflection of Jesus?

  One of the biggest differences Alanah sees between the gods of Canaan and Yahweh is that false gods are “consumers” of their worshippers while Yahweh is abundant in his love and provision for his people. As you consider the false gods of this modern age, such as media, celebrity, money, technology, and drugs, can you see the ways in which they consume those who follow after them? What idols do you see in your own life that consume your time, energy, and joy?

  The destruction of Canaan is a complex and controversial topic both within the community of faith and outside of it. What new insights did you gain into Canaanite culture that might explain why God would give the Hebrews such commands? Do you see any parallels to Canaan and the culture in which we live? How do you think God feels about that? In what ways does our culture devalue life?

  Although Tobiah is certainly a fallible human being, he is depicted as a warrior, a pursuer, a protector, a defender, and a vehicle of grace and mercy to the ones he loves—all characteristics of our Messiah Jesus. How have you experienced these attributes in your own walk of faith?