His long white beard wafted out of the tent, carried on a light breeze. Approaching from a certain direction that was all one might see of this stranger who had come all the way from the Euphrates River, this ibri1 called Abram.
Many called him a nomad, or one who moved often in search of greener pastures for his sheep, cows, and goats. But Abram liked to think he was simply a tent dweller. God was leading him, and in a tent he thought he could be closer to the One he called Jehovah.
Every day, when he had finished his shepherding, he would sit just inside his tent, his eyes following the descent of the sun over the Judean Mountains. With his own bony finger, he traced in the sky the thin red line that followed the craggy peaks.
Every day, Abram felt his heart pound within his chest. This land, for as far as he could see, was his.
He had paid no money for this property and he had won no battles to claim it for himself. Rather, God had given him this land as a gift for his children. God had told him that his children, and his children’s children, and all the children who would follow would be like the dust of the earth. A speck of dust is tiny, Abram thought. Who can count all the dust of the earth? God must mean I will have a very large family!
Now as Abram sat inside his tent, he was more confused than ever. God had promised him children, but he was an old man, almost one hundred years old. He and his wife Sarai, who was almost ninety, had given up hope of having a child a long time ago. Still, Abram wanted more than anything to believe what God told him.
As he closed his eyes against the setting sun, Abram heard God’s voice.
“Don’t be afraid, Abram,” God said as if He were standing only a few feet away. “I am your shield, and I am your great reward.”
Again Abram’s heart beat faster and faster until he placed his wrinkled hand on his chest. Only God was so great that He could read a person’s thoughts! Still, Abram decided to tell God exactly what was bothering him.
“O mighty and all-knowing Lord,” Abram began, “You know that I am an old man and that Sarai and I do not have children. That means that my chief servant, will one day own the land You have given me. Will his children number as the dust of the earth?”
According to the custom of the time, if a man didn’t have children, everything he owned went to his eldest servant. But Abram wanted a son of his own.
God’s answer came quickly. “Your servant will not own this land. Only your son, your own son, Abram, will live here.”
At that moment a sudden shift of winds blew open the tent flaps farther and Abram opened his eyes in surprise.
“Come outside, Abram,” God called to the old man in the tent.
Slowly Abram rose to his feet, grasping his shepherd’s staff for support. The day had been without clouds and the stars in the night sky shone brilliantly.
“Look up at the heavens, Abram,” commanded God.
Abram couldn’t help but admire God’s creation. He had loved looking at stars since he was a young boy. What did God want him to see?
“Count the stars, Abram—if you can count them, that is,” God continued.
Turning around in a circle, Abram shook his head. Only God could number the stars.
“Your children and their children until the end of time will be as many as the stars you see tonight, Abram,” God said.
Again Abram turned slowly in a circle, his arms outstretched, his long white beard blowing in the desert breeze.
“Count the stars, Abram,” God seemed to whisper.
“Yes, Lord, yes!” Abram said softly.
“Count the stars, Abram,” echoed the wind.
Then, raising both arms to the heavens, the old man cried loudly, “I believe You!”
God then told Abram to make a sacrifice, or offer a proper gift, to Him. Abram was to bring God a cow, a goat, and a ram, each three years old, as well as a dove and a young pigeon. Afterward God was pleased with Abram’s offering.
But the day had been filled with too much excitement and soon the thickening darkness caused Abram’s eyelids to become heavy and he fell asleep. He slept soundly at first, until God spoke to him in a dream.
At the sound of God’s voice Abram’s body twisted and turned on the rocky earth.
“Abram, know this: You will die in peace and be buried at an old age. Today I have made a promise to you. From the Wadi River of Egypt to the Euphrates River, this land is yours. Remember My words.”
The winds swirling atop the Hebron hillside died down. Slowly the once sleeping figure rubbed his eyes and sat up. And then Abram heard a familiar sound. The sound of silver bracelets.
Like most well-to-do women in Hebron, Sarai wore many silver bracelets on her wrists, shiny bangles that jangled louder and louder as she came the starry sky. closer to her husband. “Abram, are you all right? The servants have prepared the evening meal.”
In the moonlight Abram almost gasped at the sight of her still beautiful face. Seeing his expression, Sarai tried not to laugh. “Remember me, Abram? Your bride of who knows how many years? Let me help you up, dear.”
“No, Sarai, I’m fine. It’s just—just that God spoke to me again.”
Sarai’s smile vanished instantly. “We have to move soon?”
Abram shook his head and patted her hand to assure her. “No, no, nothing like that. We have come so far and now, I believe, our journey is over.” He did not want to tell her to count the stars as God had told him. Sarai felt sad whenever she thought about the children she didn’t have. So Abram just sat and looked up.
In one graceful motion, Sarai dropped to the ground beside her husband. Turning to Abram, she followed his gaze, fastening her own eyes on
“What are you thinking, Abram?”
“Of the night sky when we were children, Sarai, do you remember how the stars shone? Only in Ur of the Chaldeans have the stars been this bright!”
“The sun and the moon and the stars have always been with us, just like God is always with us,” said Sarai, still looking at the stars. “Come now, before all the food is gone, Abram.” She tugged at his hand but he only looked at her with a question in his eyes.
“Would you go with me again… would you leave Ur just like before?”
Sarai’s ready smile told him all he needed to know.
1An ibri was someone who came from the region near the Euphrates River. Later, the word would be changed to “Hebrew.”
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