Rebekah: Women of Genesis (49 page)

Jacob wept.

“Listen to me, my son,” said Isaac. “I knew it was your voice. I was about to curse you and send you out of the tent, perhaps banish you from my household. But then I felt the spirit of God within me, and it whispered, This is the right son. Bless him. At that moment I thought the Lord meant that it really was Esau, and so when I felt your arms and smelled your clothing I was reassured and I gave you the blessing knowing that I was giving it to the son that God intended to have it. Then when Esau came in, and I realized that it
was
you the first time, as I had thought, then the Lord’s meaning became clear to me. It wasn’t Esau, but it
was
 the son who should receive the birthright.”

“Father, I know you love Esau. I know you wanted him to have it.”

“No, Jacob. No, I wanted it to be given to the one the Lord chose. I thought it was Esau. I thought the Lord chose him by making him come first out of the womb. All these years, watching him turn away from everything that mattered to me, ignoring so many of God’s commandments, despising what was precious, and finally marrying idolatrous women—through all of it, I kept thinking, The Lord must have chosen him for a reason, it has to turn out right. And when I saw you, how good you were, how obedient, I kept thinking, There must be some reason God did
not
choose this one. It must be that all his goodness is false, and God knows that in his heart he’s unworthy, a hypocrite, a deceiver. I thought all your goodness had to be a trick to try to steal your brother’s birthright. But I was wrong. All these years, I had to work so hard not to love you.” Isaac wept. “Jacob, come to me, take these holy writings from me! They belong to you. You’re the one with eyes. You’re the one whose vision is clear. I’m the one who was blind even when I could see.”

Jacob rose to his feet and ran to his father, took the chest from his arms and set it down in the grass. Then he embraced his father and they wept into each other’s shoulders.

Rebekah went to the chest and picked it up. The sacred writings were safe. They would be preserved. They would be added to. Jacob would write of God’s doings all the days of his life. He would write as a prophet, and in due time would pass the birthright on to the right son. Maybe the firstborn. Maybe not. It wasn’t a matter of law. It was a matter of worthiness.

And I, what of my worthiness? What of my vow never to lie to anyone I loved? What of my promises to my husband that I would be his eyes and tell him truthfully all that I saw? Those vows never even came to my mind during all the hours that I worked to prepare Jacob to deceive his father. Only now, when the Lord has made it come out right, only now do I remember my promises.

I have no business holding these holy writings. Jacob was chosen, and in the end, the birthright went to the right son. But not because of my deception of my husband. No, the Lord spoke to Isaac and told him which son to give the blessing to. I should have known that he would do that. I should have trusted God, as Jacob begged me to do.

Where is Deborah? How could I have sent her away? She’s the one who loves me even when I’ve broken my promises. Even when I don’t deserve to be loved, she loves me.

Rebekah set down the chest and walked toward her tent through the blear of her tears. She was nearly there when she heard Isaac call out for her. “Rebekah, where are you! Rebekah! Can you hear me!”

“Mother!” called Jacob.

I don’t want to talk to you, she thought. I don’t want to face either of you, after what I did.

And then she remembered—she had to see them. She had an urgent piece of information to tell them. She had heard Esau’s threat, and she had to warn Jacob that he needed to leave Beersheba until Esau’s rage cooled.

Haran, she thought. He must go to Haran. It’s past time for him to marry. In Haran, he can go to my brother’s house and Laban will help him find a wife among our kindred there. Laban will take him in, for my sake. He’ll be safe there, out of Esau’s reach until a time comes when they can come together peacefully.

The whole thing was so clear in her mind. And she realized: Of course it’s clear. It comes from God. Just as it was a gift of God when I heard the words of Esau’s heart. His lips said nothing, but God let me hear the warning.

Was this how it was for Sarah, when she knew she had to send Ishmael away to save baby Isaac’s life? God’s hand was in it. Thank God Sarah had faith enough to hear, and to obey.

And I also heard, as she heard. The Lord has not rejected me. My sin is not so great that God would cut me off. He can still find a place to dwell in my heart.

She turned and headed back to her husband, to her obedient son, and now her eyes were filled with tears for a different reason. For joy.

“Isaac,” she said. And would have said more, but he reached out a blind hand and touched her face and stilled her lips.

“You grew up in a deaf man’s house,” said Isaac, “but you found a way to make your father hear you. I was blind and deaf by my own stubbornness, but you found a way to make me see and hear. Forgive me for making it so hard for you. I thank God for you, Rebekah.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek into his chest and held on to him, the sound of his heartbeat in her ear, the warmth of his body against the skin of her face. I belong here, she thought. This is the place I was born to have. All our work is done, our sons raised to be the men they chose to be, and the holy writings and the priesthood of God have been passed on. Jacob will leave for another land and find a wife there and build his life without me now. My daughters will also marry and be gone. But I belong here. With my arms around this man, with the sound and smell and heat of his body surrounding me, with his voice in my ear, with his face and his hands and all his works and all the people who love him in my gaze forever. And when we both are dead, and our bodies are in the ground, I will still be at home with him forever.