28

Jacob stood on an outcropping of rocks, staff in hand, looking to the west where the hills of Gilead dipped to lush valleys and the Jabbok River rushed to the Jordan on its way to the Dead Sea, in the area where his uncle Lot once lived. Oak and pear and pine flocked the hillsides, while a sea of pink oleander covered the slopes all the way to the fertile plains. They’d traveled for days since leaving the camp at Mizpah after Laban’s departure, the covenant and the pillars they had set up reminders of the goodwill that now rested between them.

Yet Jacob’s heart beat heavy with the memories and dread of the future. Would he find acceptance in the house of his father? Did Esau still hold hatred against him? The fears were never far from his thoughts.

Up ahead, almost too far for his eye to clearly see, his servants drove his flocks—first goats, then ewes, then rams, followed by herds of camels, cows, bulls, and donkeys. The God of his fathers had surely blessed him, as He had promised when he first left his father’s house with only the staff he carried now.

The sound of children’s voices drifted to him on the rise, and he looked down to where his wives and sons and daughter passed before him toward the place where they would make camp. Satisfied that all was well, he walked to his waiting camel and mounted, tucking the staff into a sling at its side. The camel took the downward slope at a careful pace, then snorted its pleasure when they touched even ground and ran at Jacob’s beckoning toward the women and children. He paused as his beast aligned with Rachel’s.

“All is well, my lord?” The smile in her eyes was all he could see beneath the veil that blocked the sun and wind from her beautiful face.

He smiled and nodded. “All is well. We will make camp soon. I am going up ahead to secure the location.”

She acquiesced with a silent tilt of her head while Joseph waved and bounced, obviously eager to get down. Jacob laughed, the lighthearted feeling boosting his spirits.

He coaxed the camel forward, passing the herds as he went. As he neared the goats, he noticed the shadows had lengthened and the servants kept the animals in their respective groups apart from each other. Jacob glanced at his chief shepherd and waved, calling out orders to stop for the night. As he took the camel’s reins to return to the women, he spotted men walking toward him, their bearing tall and distinguished, their clothes bright as noonday.

He halted and commanded the camel to kneel, then took his staff and slowly walked toward them. To wait for his steward or a few of his servants would have been wise, but the men approaching seemed familiar in a way that made the hairs on his skin tingle. He had met them before. And they were not as normal men.

Memories of Bethel the night he’d fled his brother surfaced. He had encountered God on that trip, in the dream of the ziggurat and the angels of God walking up and down the stairs.

His knees weakened beneath him, and he leaned more heavily on the staff as he approached. “This is the camp of God,” he said, though none could hear.

He planted his staff in the dirt and waited. Angels as numerous as they had been the night of his dream approached and circled him, moving forward and back, floating just above the surface of the earth. A sense of assurance and peace filled him. God was in this place. He gazed on the messengers who surrounded him but did not speak. And yet his heart heard the music of their silence and recalled Elohim’s words all those years ago.

I am Yahweh, the Elohim of your father Abraham and the Elohim of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.

Until. Elohim would not leave him until He had fulfilled His promise. Jacob was standing on the cusp of that promise, his family behind him, the land before him. God had not forgotten him.

“This place shall be Mahanaim, Elohim’s camp and my camp, for Elohim has met me here,” he said, his voice sure despite the tremor that passed through him.

The angels left him then, disappearing from his sight. The sun had not moved from its place in the sky despite the time it had seemed to take for the angels to approach and move around him. He turned, shaken, the sense of awe he had known at Bethel as tangible as the beat of his heart. He closed his eyes, trying to get his bearings, and looked up at the sound of camels approaching. He would make camp in this place and stay for a time, then cross the Jabbok and head to the Jordan before making the long trek south to his father at Hebron.

Rachel settled Joseph in her tent for the night, then wrapped a cloak about her and stepped into the moonlight, searching the campground for some sign of Jacob. He had spoken little during the evening meal, and she sensed something had happened on their way to the camp. But her attempt to get him to speak in the company of the others had failed, and now her sense of exhaustion nearly outweighed her need to know what troubled him. She looked with longing at the mat beside Joseph and almost gave in and curled up beside him. She could question Jacob another time. If he didn’t want to tell her, then she should sleep while she could.

But a deeper need to see him, to comfort him, pulled her from her tent. She found him near the fire, speaking with his steward. She slowly strode closer and stood where he could catch her eye without being interrupted. He smiled her way and bid his steward good night, then walked toward her.

He took her hand and squeezed. “Walk with me.”

She intertwined her fingers with his and smiled when he looked down at her. “What happened to you today?” They moved from the circle of tents to the edge of the forest, where the night breezes rustled the oak leaves above them.

His grip tightened, and he led her farther to a place near the edge of the camp where they could sit on some upturned rocks. “God met me in this place,” he said, settling beside her. He tilted his head, and she followed his gaze heavenward, longing to see what it was that put the edge of awe in his voice. “Before you arrived, his angels came from that spot.” He pointed to a place in the field just beyond them. “It was almost like the time I met Him at Bethel, on my journey to your father’s house. Now we have come full circle back to the land He has promised to me and my descendants, and He met me again.”

She searched his face, drawn by the light in his dark eyes. “What did He say to you?”

Jacob stroked his beard with his free hand. “He did not speak this time.” He glanced beyond her in the direction the angels had come as though hoping to see them again, then looked back at her. “But I sensed His words from the time before. And I sensed His pleasure in me.” His crooked smile reminded her of Joseph, and she knew how much such pleasure meant to him. Despite the blessing Jacob had won, his own father had favored his brother.

“I am happy for you, Jacob.” She leaned close and kissed his cheek, touching the other cheek with her palm, stroking his beard. “You are the favored of Adonai. You will surely be blessed from this day forward.” A feeling of pride filled her that she could share in such blessing, that her son would one day rule at his father’s right hand. “Will we go directly to see your father and mother in Hebron then?” He had talked so often of the anticipated reunion that she fully expected him to take over for his father as soon as they could return.

He nodded. “This is my hope. We will stay here for a week to give the animals time to feed and the children a chance to rest. But then we will continue south to my father.” He stood, pulling her to him, and lifted her in his arms, twirling her in a joyous dance. “We shall be home at last, beloved. Ima and my father will love you.” He kissed her then, a slow, gentle kiss that made her knees weak.

“Perhaps we should continue this in your tent.” She whispered the words against his ear, and he laughed, filling her with joy she had not known since Joseph’s birth.

“Perhaps we should.” He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her back the way they had come, continuing the kiss as the tent flap closed them in.

Jacob lay awake long after Rachel returned to her tent to stay with Joseph lest he awaken and fear her absence. His body ached with weariness, and yet anticipation of the future kept his mind churning with possibilities. What would his father say to him? Was his mother well? Was Deborah still living? He had had little word of them during his stay with Laban, the last message coming over a year before. Surely he would see them again soon.

But as the night sounds settled into the quiet that preceded the dawn, Jacob dreamed of Esau, not his father. All the anger and grappling they had done as children, all the ways Jacob had deceived his brother came to him in memories he had long tried to suppress. The rift between himself and Esau could cause serious problems for him as he entered his father’s camp.

Did Esau still reside with their parents? Had he taken over his father’s affairs in Jacob’s absence? What would cause him to give up the right to control them now, if he had? Esau had two wives and several sons when Jacob left him, and he had added at least one more wife after Jacob fled, if the gossip was true. No doubt the man had probably fathered more sons during the ensuing years. But was he well? Did he have livestock and servants as Jacob had?

The vision of the angels that had met him hours before filled the place where the memories of Esau lingered. And with the vision came the sense of his own unworthiness and the weight of the guilt he had carried for years.

He awoke with a start, sweat beading his skin. God had not spoken in words when He’d sent the angels to Mahanaim, but His guidance could not be more clear.

Jacob must reconcile with Esau. Before he returned to his father.

The thought made his insides quiver. Sleep would not return this night.

“But why, Jacob? Wouldn’t it be better to avoid trouble than to search for it head-on?” Rachel’s words raised his own doubts the following day when he spoke to his wives after the morning meal.

“I would love to avoid facing my brother, particularly when he left me with the threat to end my life, but it seems this is the path God has led me to.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, wishing he could have avoided this conversation. But his wives must be told what lay ahead. He just didn’t expect Rachel’s gaze to hold such fear. Perhaps he had spoken too warily of Esau in the past.

“I think if God is leading you to meet your brother, then you must do as He says.”

He turned at Leah’s voice and assessed her. Were her thoughts truly her own, or was she making the suggestion to increase her sister’s fear? But no. Leah feared Adonai. She would have spoken from her heart for Him, not in meanness to her sister. Surely such jealousies were long past.

Rachel touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her, and he wondered by the scowl lines along her brow whether that last thought was true. “But think of the children, Jacob. Wouldn’t you be putting them—putting all of us—in danger if Esau were invited to our camp? If he comes alone, then he will fear for his own life. But if he comes with his sons as my father just did, they could be armed as my father’s sons surely were, and attack while we are sleeping.”

Her fears were not unfounded, but if he listened, if he allowed her fears to become his, he would shrink back from what he knew he must do. Hadn’t the angels of God just met him? Surely Adonai would be with him. He must trust that He would protect him, if this indeed was His plan.

But was this His plan? The doubts floated near him like pestering insects as he listened to the arguments back and forth between Rachel and Leah.

“I understand your fears, and I will do all in my power to keep you safe,” he said, no longer able to bear their bickering. “But I believe this is the right thing to do, and I must do it.” His tone was sharper than he intended, but the words had their desired effect.

Rachel gave a slight nod. “As you say, my lord.” Her tone held constraint, and he regretted that he could not be more reassuring.

“Adonai will be with us,” Leah said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. He met her gaze and for the first time felt gratitude for her faith, for her purpose in his life.

He smiled his response and thanked them both. As they went back to their daily tasks, he walked toward the herds to speak to his chief steward. He would find out where Esau now resided and send messengers to greet him, seeking audience.

Then he would see what God would do.