Asher clings to my side, his eyes wide with fear. So unlike my joyful child. I must straighten my spine and be strong for him. I look in his face and see my mother’s eyes. I have known fear every day since they took her from me. Fear is my constant companion. Fear is my friend.
As I stand at the front of the mighty tribe of Jacob, I know I am not first. I know I am not here as a place of honor. I am here because my husband is a coward and places women and children in danger to protect his own life. A raven flies across the desert sky between my family and the strangers - Jacob’s brother and his warriors.
Jacob stays safe on the other side of the river Jabbok. All of his wives and children he places before his brother for slaughter - a sacrifice after weeks of harsh travel and years of subjugation to Laban. The children have suffered on this journey. My happy boy trembles. I feel his little body shake against my tunic. I do not comfort him. He must learn to make fear his friend as this life will not be kind to his gentle soul, and fear will be his constant companion.
The raven cries and dips among the clouds - a mournful call as we wait to know our fate. I pray to Ishtar to intervene - to fight this battle for me and protect my sons.
Gad stands to my right - my first born. He grows tall and lean and looks so much like his father. At times I cannot look at him because all I see is Jacob. But he will be taller than Jacob. Stronger than Jacob who cowers behind women and children. Who hides at the river’s edge. I will teach my sons to be brave and true like my father.
I remember my father’s eyes wild with terror as Asher continues to plead with his eyes for me to hold him. I look away. I cannot bear to think of when they took me from my mother, but the thoughts come unbidden.
The queen died in her childbed. My mother served her and served her well, but as a child, what did I know of the life of a queen? I heard the wailing all through the fortress, and it frightened me. I hid under the table and did not answer as my father called out to me. When he found me, he looked as crazed as the man who sat begging at the gate of the fortress. He spoke harshly to me and I did not understand. We fled Nineveh and all I had ever known. He never explained why we left my mother. Years later, my aunt would tenderly tell me of the life of queens, but neither my aunt nor my mother are here with me now as I face the messenger standing before me. I raise my chin and speak with the authority of a first wife, a beloved wife, even though my knees tremble beneath my tunic.
“I am Zilpah, wife of Jacob, and these are his sons, Gad and Asher. We have been sent to greet you in the name of Jacob’s God Most High and send his love and honor to his brother Esau.” My voice does not waver and maybe Ishtar has heard and given me her blessing.
“I see you are Jacob’s son.” The messenger speaks kindly and ruffles Gad’s hair and touches his cheek to see if stubble yet grows. “I would know you anywhere as a son of Jacob as you look as he did in his youth when I last saw him. Where is your father?”
My heart seizes. I did not think a messenger would address a child. I will not let fear have my son. I will not allow fear to end us all in this desolate place. I open my mouth to speak but…
“I help my father tend his livestock, and they are unruly beasts. They drove us forward seeking more food in this dry place, and father stayed in the rear looking for strays. He is a good shepherd and will not allow any to be lost. He has trusted me, his son Gad, with his herd as a gift for his master, Esau.” Gad speaks with authority.
I inwardly smile at my clever son, and for the first time, I see my father in his eyes. His nimble, hardworking spirit grows as strong as my boy. My father who did not cry when they took him from me. My father who did not cry out as the lash tore the flesh from his body. My father who provided a way for me even if I only serve an untrustworthy husband. I am alive. And fear will not conquer this day.
I place my hand on Gad’s shoulder, and he does not flinch at the touch. I do feel a tremble along his strong back, but the messenger does not notice. We both stand tall in the face of this danger, and we are greeted with a smile - not warm but not unkind.
“My master, Esau, bids you welcome, and he is eager to see his brother and meet his family. Will you send word to your master that his brother is here and anxiously waits to greet him.”
I flinch at the words, “my master,” and the messenger smiles. I have revealed I am not the first wife, and I silently curse myself. Fear will not have this day. I turn to my young son,
“Be swift Asher. Find your father and make the message clear. Esau waits to bid him welcome and is eager to see his brother and meet his family.”
His big round eyes, my mother’s eyes, search my face, but fear will not have this day. My face is stern, and I swat him like a donkey, and he bolts toward the river.
“Will you come and eat with us and rest while we wait for Jacob?” the messenger questions.
I have a chance to correct my mistake, and I reply, “No, we will stand here and wait for our master. I could not abide meeting our family without my husband by my side.”
The messenger smiles, and this time, his eyes warm. “As you wish, but the sun is hot today. We will be waiting in our tents for the others to arrive.” And with that, he turns and walks back across the open desert. The raven still circles overhead.
After the messenger disappears at the horizon, I allow my shoulders to sag in relief, and I turn to my son and embrace him. The reprieve we have been given washes over us. I know Jacob will take his time so I direct our servants to erect the tent and offer refreshment after the long hours waiting in the sun. The mood of our little band of Jacob lightens as we understand we have passed a first test, and our bloody end has not come, at least not at this time. The small children even begin to play and throw pebbles. They turn their attention to the raven, but I stop them. I cannot bear the thought of any creature being injured, not when our own safety still precariously teeters on the whims of my husband’s kin.
Precariously teeters on the whims of my husband’s kin. This is not the first time in my life I have been utterly dependent on the sons of Terah. My father brought me to Haran, to the house of his sister, who served the sons of Nahor. Deborah embraced me and cried as she and my father left me staring in the face of a girl about my age. Her beauty startled me even then, and I felt plain and insignificant standing in her shadow. When the soldiers came for my father, Deborah hid me with Rachel behind the barley bags beside Laban’s tent. I heard Deborah call out my father’s name as they dragged him to the city. She held me tenderly that night, and from that point on, I belonged to Laban. I am grateful he never really even noticed I was there. No one questioned where I came from or who would care for me. I belonged to Deborah. But now she stands in her place with Rachel, who in kindness has lent her a donkey when the travel has become too much. Deborah can make anyone kind.
My memories so sweep me away I do not realize Jacob and the others have arrived. He does not speak, and Asher runs to my side. We all rise and follow as he treads across the desert toward Esau. The raven still soars above us. He has yet to leave our sight.
How odd to see my husband bow down to this beast of a man. I stand in the rear and cannot hear, but I see him prostrate himself. Now they embrace and weep. I call out to fear that again Zilpah conquers! I am not frail. I have survived the death of the queen of Nineveh. I have survived fleeing to my father’s people. I have survived the murder of my father for disobeying the king. I have survived the camp of Laban. I have survived as the wife of Jacob. I have survived the birth of two sons. And I have survived the meeting of Esau. Fear is my friend. Fear is my companion. Fear has made me a survivor. I do not know the gods of this land. I do not know to whom I offer my praise. So I keep silent.
I do not hold the hands of my sons as we approach my husband and his brother. I straighten my spine. I do not look into Asher’s eyes, but I feel him looking at me for guidance. I bow low, and my sons do the same. When we are out of sight of Jacob, I embrace Asher and tell him that he is such a brave boy. I look into his eyes, my mother’s eyes, and I beg my tears not to fall. I wonder if my mother walked into the tomb of the queen of Nineveh. If she held the babe that took her life. Or did she call for me and cry out until the guards sealed her with a stone.
As my thoughts threaten to overtake me, I hear the raven call. I shield my eyes from the sun and see him soaring on the wind, having followed us all the way to this friendly meeting. I do not notice the messenger beside me.
“Noah sent the raven, and he found dry land. When the young ravens cry, God provides them meat. The raven is the grace of God for us here on earth.”
“Who is this god of which you speak? I do not know the gods of this land.” I question this strange man who deems me worthy to deign to speak to me.
“There is only one God, dear Zilpah, and He protected you today. He sent His raven as a sign you were blameless and treasured by the Lord Most High. Learn to praise Him for His goodness and mercy, and you and your sons will prosper in any land.” The messenger smiles, and turns, and walks away, disappearing as he reaches the horizon.
I am Zilpah, whom the world sees as frail, but fear is my friend. Fear is my companion. I embrace her, and she helps me survive. But today I met the God of Jacob in this strange and foreign place. The Lord Most High protected me and my family. Fear did not conquer the day. The God of Jacob brought us to this land and gave us His grace. He is worthy of my honor and praise.
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