Song of Redemption Read Free Page A

stood almost a head taller than his grandfather. But Zechariah had the same noble, dignified features Hezekiah had loved so much, the same gentle green eyes full of wisdom and humor. He smiled to himself, remembering how he had once thought that Yahweh must look like Zechariah.
    “How’s this?” Hezekiah asked when they reached a terraced olive grove near the Gihon Spring. The trees offered welcome shelter from the cold gusts of wind.
    “It’s perfect.” Zechariah sighed with contentment as he sat down to rest on the low wall surrounding the garden. He gazed all around, as if seeing trees for the first time in his life, and Hezekiah winced at this reminder of Zechariah’s long imprisonment. He was glad they had come, in spite of the damp air.
    “You know, son, there’s a reason I wanted to come outside to pray,” Zechariah said. “It’s too easy to believe in our own importance when we’re surrounded by our own creations all day.” He reached to pluck a silvery green leaf from an olive tree and twirled it between his fingers. “But look at this. Can we fashion anything as fragile and perfect as this leaf—or as solid and enduring as those mountains?”
    “‘As the mountains surround Jerusalem,’ ” Hezekiah recited, “ ‘so Yahweh surrounds his people, both now and forevermore.’ ” “Ah … you still remember.”
    “How could I forget? You recited that verse to me every morning when you first opened the shutters. And I was thinking about it just this morning when I saw how foggy it was. The mountains were nowhere in sight.”
    “Yet you know they’re still there, just as Yahweh is still faithfully surrounding our nation, even though our sin and idolatry have hidden Him from sight.”
    Hezekiah bent to pick up one of the dozens of stones that lay scattered on the ground and absently tossed it from one hand to the other. “I love this sad little nation, rocks and all. I wish it still resembled the land of milk and honey our ancestors knew.”
    “God will answer your prayers, in time, if you’re faithful to Him.”
    “Your trust in God seems so … so limitless compared to my own tiny seed of faith. I’m afraid that it’ll be insufficient, especially for the overwhelming task I’m facing. Besides getting rid of the idolatry, I want to win back all the land that’s rightfully mine, the land my father lost to the Philistines and Ammonites. We need the farmland of the Shephelah and cities like Beth Shemesh to guard the mountain passes into Jerusalem and give access to the coastal trade route. We need the fortified cities in the Negev and Arabah. And Elath, our seaport on the Red Sea. These territories once belonged to my ancestors,” he finished, tossing the stone he was holding toward the Gihon Spring. “And they’re rightfully mine.”
    “You remind me of King Uzziah, son. His reign prospered, not only because he dreamed big dreams, like you—but because he loved God. With God you can do anything—anything at all.”
    “Then why did King Uzziah’s reign end so badly? What happened?”
    “Uzziah’s success resulted in pride, instead of gratitude. Foreign kings honored him for his accomplishments, and Uzziah took the credit for himself instead of giving the glory to God.” Zechariah was silent for a moment before continuing. “I’ve watched all three kings before you as they were tested by God—and failed. I pray that you’ll remain strong when you’re tested. Pride destroyed Uzziah. His son Jotham was destroyed by bitterness and your own father by fear. If they had placed their trust in Yahweh, how different things might have been for you.”
    Hezekiah felt a restless urgency to begin, to make the changes his country needed as quickly as possible. “I need your wisdom and experience,” he told Zechariah. “I’d like you to fill Uriah’s position as—”
    “No. I won’t serve as palace administrator.”
    His abrupt refusal disappointed Hezekiah—and confused him. He had