Take This Cup Read Free Page A

economical.”
    “What about my limp? The mountains? Walking?”
    “He says you may have your own donkey to ride. I would have nothing but the best for my daughter. He is a wealthy herdsman.”
    Sarah could not utter another word. All the details for a marriage contract had been worked out.
    So, she pondered, this is how marriage happens. A distant relative in need of a woman walks through the door, and a bargain is struck. With the one caveat, I must agree. “All right, Father, Mother. I will consider his . . . business arrangement.”
    “And pray?” Rebekah clasped her hands in a desperate pantomime of prayer.
    “Yes, Mother. I will pray. I promise. I will.”
    The two scuttled like crabs out of her room and closed the door.
    Sarah rose and leaned her chin against her hand on the windowsill. Male voices drifted up.
    “My daughter says you are a most excellent man. She considers herself unworthy. You stride the mountains like a lion. She is lame and only useful at her loom.”
    Lamsa’s rich, deep voice replied, “When I was a boy, I owned a pet ewe who was lame. She gave me many lambs. Her wool was the finest grade. Yes, I have many donkeys for Sarah to use. She may choose her own. And I will carry her home riding on my own camel . . . if she will come. But I do not wish for an unhappy companion. It is a long way to my high mountain valleys. She will not likely see her family again.”
    And so, that night, Sarah prayed about the proposed match. Could she like this man? Could she live in tents among the sheep for eight months of the year? Like the Abraham and Sarah of old, Lamsa’s fathers were among those in Israel who stayed behind in Babylon when Nehemiah the prophet returned to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.

    Sarah reminded God that she was happy without a husband. Lamsa was a distant relation, a wealthy Jewish herdsman who lived in the land of ancient Babylon. He was not handsome.
    “Abba, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you hear my prayers. I do not wish to leave my pleasant life and leave Jerusalem for exile in a wild land unless you have some greater purpose for me. But if I was to have a son, I would dedicate him to serve you. And then I would be pleased to leave my home and kin.” She stopped and thought, then continued speaking aloud to God. “If Lamsa says he will stay for a while in Jerusalem, and not leave until after the rainy season, Lord, then I will know. Just after the end of the rains. Tell me, please, Lord, what is your will?”
    In that instant, as she finished praying, a flash of lightning split the sky. It divided like forked antlers, and the clouds lit up in the shape of a giant hart. A thunderclap followed, shaking the house. The heavens opened and rain bucketed down, sluicing off the eaves and into the street.
    Sarah returned to her bed and lay for a while listening to the pleasant drumming of rain on her roof. Then she went to sleep, believing the Lord would give her a sign.

    In the morning over breakfast, Lamsa and Sarah’s father spoke about the weather.
    Lamsa did not look at Sarah. “Last night I saw a bolt of lightning like the antlers of a great white hart in the sky. And such a rain followed.”
    Sarah paused. “I saw it too. A great hart in the eastern sky. Beautiful.”
    Lamsa smiled. “When there is thunder in our mountains, we say it is the sound of two great harts doing battle. The hart isa symbol for us who wander in distant land. Adam’s great hart, strong and wise. We will one day all be gathered here in Eretz-Israel, because the Lord promised that even the land where I dwell will be Israel when Messiah comes. I am waiting for that day.”
    Sarah blinked down at her plate of eggs and bread. “I am also waiting for Messiah. He must come soon.”
    “When we see him as conqueror, it is written that it will be as lightning flashes from east to west.” 2
    “Yes.” Sarah swallowed hard as the answer came to her. “We will all see him at the same time. Jerusalem