In the Field of Grace Read Free

enlarged your land and prospered your cattle,” she said to him one night, holding on to a tiny garment, never worn. “You deserve children so your name can go on. Instead you have become an object of pity among our people.”
    “I don’t want children. I want you.”
    She shook her head, dark curls spilling down the small of her back. “I am barren. Take another wife, Boaz.”
    “I will not! Be patient. Didn’t Abraham have to wait long years for a son? Didn’t Isaac? We have a long time before we match their patience.”
    “Take another wife.”
    He resisted. He couldn’t imagine sharing his heart and body with another woman. Judith was his wife. His love.
    God blessed his patience. Judith became pregnant and this time carried the baby to term. They had a little daughter, with Judith’s beautiful face and a sparrow’s delicate voice.
    For six years Boaz was enchanted by his precious girl; he heard her first words, comforted her through her tears, watched Judith put her to bed at night, and laughed at her precocious antics. For six years Sarah charmed him, cuddled him, loved him, filled him with joy.
    It took only six days of fever for her to be taken from him. Was it a mere year since he had lost her? It felt like a lifetime.
    He only knew that he survived that season by clinging to the Lord. His heart was crushed, but his faith grew.
    Judith fell apart. The loss proved too much, robbing her of health and hope. Boaz fought for her with a tenacity he had not realized he possessed. He fought for her to go on. To cling to life and persevere.
    “For my sake, please Judith, for my sake! Don’t you love me as much as you loved our child? Please fight for us. Don’t give up on me, beloved.” He begged and cajoled. He prayed. He pushed. Anything to get her to hold on to living.
    “I can’t bear it, Boaz,” she said one night as she sat on the roof, her feet dangling from the edge, her eyes locked on the bright stars. “I can’t bear this loss.”
    Boaz felt a shiver go through him. He grabbed hold of Judith’s fingers and squeezed with desperation. “Judith, life often brings us more sorrow than we think we can bear. But God is greater than every desolation. He is greater even than death. He will see us through.”
    Judith shook her head. “I don’t have your faith, Boaz.”
    Months passed, months of slow agony as Boaz watched helplessly while his wife grew weaker in soul and body, unable to get a foothold in life, unable to hope and be restored. One night she came into Boaz’s bed. “Give me another child,” she said. “Give me comfort in my despair.”
    He didn’t fight her. He should have, knowing how physically weak she remained. Instead he gave in. He kept her in his bed until she became pregnant for the last time.
    And now, he was paying the price of his weakness. She lay dying because he couldn’t refuse her.

     
    “Boaz!” she called out in her weak, mumbling voice.
    “I’m here.”
    “Promise me.”
    “Promise what?”
    “You’ll be happy? When I’m gone.”
    A fly tried to land on her arm and he swatted it away. No matter how hard they tried to repel them, the flies always came, attracted to the putrid scent that had begun to rise from her flesh. “How can I be happy? You have to stay with me, Judith.”
    “I can’t, my love. It’s my time to go. But I want you to find happiness. I want you to know joy. Please try. For me.”
    Her dog started to howl. Boaz was horrified by the sound. It reflected the scream that had been trapped inside his own heart too closely. He reached out his hand and softly, comfortingly caressed the thinning fur. “It’s all right, boy. It’s all right.” Melekh’s howling subsided. It gave one last wail and placed its muzzle on Judith’s chest.
    Judith gave her lopsided smile. A single tear ran down her left cheek. “I’ve finally managed to turn you two into friends.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “I love you, Boaz.