Magi's Journal--entry 11

Entry 11: Thou Preparest a Table

“Zechariah! Wake up! It is time to start your watch,” Zedekiah shook my shoulder.

“All right,” I snapped, far from rested far from rested. What little sleep I had was fitful--filled with nightmares.

“Old man,” Zedekiah continued to shake me. “It is time for you to take my place at the watch.”

“I am no older than you,” I spat back, “and I do hope you sleep better that I did!”

“It has been a disagreeable day all the way around,” Zedekiah mumbled.

We talked only a moment as I gave up my bed to my friend. I strolled along the camp, guarding my companions, trying to keep my eyes from wandering toward the freshly dug graves nearby.

I was weary, so tired. Earlier in the day, when I tried to rest, my mind kept returning to those we had buried only a few hours before. Men, women, and even a child were massacred.

One of the dead was about the age of my Meshack, just barely a man. His throat was slashed. As we dug his grave the only thought in my mind was that the man was too young to die.

My thoughts now are on my own family; my wife, Hend, and my children, so far away. When Hend went to bed did she think about me? Does she know that I worry about her?

Then my fears settle and my thoughts become more rational. Hend is a very capable woman. She is strong and wise--quite able to run a home smoothly--with or without me.

I know that my Meshack will take care of business in my absence. He will see that the older children care for the younger. I can count on them to make sure that the whole family is well. My home will run smoothly in my absence.

What of me? I need to see my family, to be with them. I would give much of my wealth to speak again with my sons. I would give the rest of it to have another of Hend’s meals, cooked and spiced just as I like.

I have always known how perilous this journey is. To bury these poor strangers has only made the danger more real. I wonder silently if I will ever see my family again.

As the sun fell low in the horizon, the campsite stirred once again. Our guides managed to capture several fat quails, enough for a sort of stew. Perhaps they realized that a good meal might help to lift our spirits.

It was an odd sensation as we gathered around our campfire to eat. The brightness of the fire contrasted with the dark unknown around us. We eat silently, wondering if, somewhere in the darkness, an enemy lay waiting to attack.

Tonight I long to find comfort in the glow of the star.

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Scripture Meditation
Psa. 39:1-3,16