Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith)

© 2012 by Jill Eileen Smith

Published by Revell

a division of Baker Publishing Group

P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

www.revellbooks.com

Ebook edition created 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-1-4412-3603-6

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
www.zondervan.com

This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearance of certain historical figures is therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Published in association with the Books & Such Literary Agency, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409-5370,
www.booksandsuch.biz
.

“Jill Eileen Smith’s
Sarai
gives ‘the rest of the story’—Abram and Sarai’s journey toward faith. Don’t hesitate to open this rich biblical drama for new insight and a new perspective on the patriarch and his family. A well-written story filled with human emotion.”

—
Lyn Cote
, author of
Her Abundant Joy

“What a marvelous retelling of an old and sacred story! Though I knew it well, I could not put
Sarai
down. Smith takes us into the minds of the characters as they struggle with their flaws, fears, and disappointments, armed only with an often fragile faith.
Sarai
is an inspiring offer of hope for all.”

—
Linda Windsor
, author of the Brides of Alba series

“Jill Eileen Smith’s research shines in this gem of a novel detailing the lives of Abram and Sarai. Fans of biblical fiction will be delighted by Smith’s retelling of two of the most beloved personalities from the book of Genesis.”

—
Kacy Barnett-Gramckow
, author of the Genesis Trilogy

“I’ve read Jill Eileen Smith’s writing with great interest since before she was published, and I’ve enjoyed watching this talented woman be discovered as a powerful novelist. Jill has a special insight into her characters and a great love for biblical stories. I highly recommend her latest novel,
Sarai
. You will not be disappointed.”

—
Hannah Alexander
, award-winning author of
Eye of the Storm

“In
Sarai
, Jill Eileen Smith takes the reader back to ancient times and the nomadic life of Sarai and Abram. This is an absorbing visit to the past, filled with wonderful details and fascinating characters, including Abram’s nephew Lot and his wife. Smith reveals timeless doubts and struggles, along with the triumphs of some and the ill-fated but fascinating paths of others. Remarkable research is folded into a story that builds to an unforgettable ending. Smith truly brought the era to life!”

—
Maureen Lang
, author of
Springtime of the Spirit
and
Whisper on the Wind

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Page

Endorsements

Dedication

Prologue

Part 1

1
    
2
    
3

4
    
5
    
6

7
    
8
    
9

10
    
11
    
12

13
    
14
    
15

16

Part 2

17
    
18
    
19

20
    
21
    
22

23

Part 3

24
    
25
    
26

27
    
28
    
29

30
    
31
    
32

Part 4

33
    
34
    
35

36
    
37

Note from the Author

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books by Jill Eileen Smith

Back Ads

Back Cover

To my dad, who longed for a better country—a heavenly one—a city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God (Heb. 11:10, 16).

In Loving Memory

of

Leonard C. Smith, Jr.

1922–2011

Prologue

U
R, 2051
BC

Sarai glanced across the courtyard, catching Abram’s gaze. His half smile and the twinkle in his eye warmed her more than the wine she had tasted at the start of the ceremony. Music drifted around them as the bridal couple—their nephew Lot and his new wife, Melah—took their seats on the bench beneath the canopy and accepted rich foods from the hands of the servants.

“This whole wedding is a disgrace, you know.” Sarai’s sister-in-law Milcah stood at her elbow and leaned close to her ear. “Why her father agreed to the marriage after Lot had already humbled the girl . . . Though I suppose he didn’t have much choice. Who else would want her after she’d already given in to Lot’s charms?” Milcah batted at a fly, sending it away. “I can’t imagine why Lot couldn’t wait with such a one. It’s not as though she’s a beauty or a temptress. It seems like he could have done better.” The last words came out in a whisper as Milcah moved in close again.

Sarai turned from watching the bridal couple to meet Milcah’s pinched gaze. “If it is true that a babe is already on the way, it is better they marry.” She had wearied of the heated debate and shame Lot had brought down on her household, particularly on Abram.

“Abi Terah seems pleased with the arrangement.” Milcah touched Sarai’s shoulder and pointed toward their father. “Though his conditions did seem a little harsh toward Lot, while Melah came away already with child and married to a man who can never put her aside or take another. I might have given in to Nahor before our betrothal for such a promise.” She laughed at that, then shifted her ample bulk, bursting with child herself, to face Sarai once more.

Sarai stifled her hurt at the critical words, remembering her own wedding promises, hers and Abram’s. She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her skirts and avoided Milcah’s perusing gaze.

“I see I have upset you.” Milcah patted Sarai’s arm. “Your time will come, Sarai. At least you can rest in knowing Abram loves you. If he didn’t, he might have broken his vow to you long ago.” She placed a protective hand over her middle and shook her head, her gaze pitying, though Sarai sensed, as she always did, a hint of arrogance in Milcah’s tone. The beautiful Sarai was barren. She’d become a fool. A laughingstock.

She clenched her jaw and held herself erect, lifting a jeweled hand to her throat. “Thank you, Milcah.” She forced a smile. “If you will excuse me, I must check on the food.” She glided away from the bench along the courtyard wall, skirted the crowds, and hurried into the house, the vows at her own wedding feast suddenly sharp in her ear.

“I promise never to take another wife,” Abram had said, his gaze full of love for only her.

“I promise to give you a child.” Sarai had gazed into his handsome face, her heart doing a little dance at having finally convinced her father to let them marry.

“I hold you, my son Abram and my daughter Sarai, to your promises this day. If you, Sarai, do not fulfill your vow to my son, his vow to you is null.” Her father’s unwavering gaze had held her fast.

How easy such a promise had seemed then.

But after thirty-two years of marriage, she had yet to conceive. And here Melah was already with child even before her wedding day. She blinked back stinging tears. Conversations and laughter filtered through the open windows while a harpist played quiet music in the background. After the meal, there would be singing and dancing, and guests would remain until well past nightfall, only to return again on the morrow for several more days of feasting.

She rested her head against the cool limestone wall aligning the comfortable sitting room, unobserved by the servants as they rushed down the halls from the cooking rooms with platters piled high with food. She had no reason to be jealous. She was mistress of a wealthy estate, wife to one of Ur’s finest nobles, whose father had long held the king’s ear. A princess of Ur, if ever there was one.

But she could not stop the pain Milcah’s presence always evoked. Milcah already had one son who had weaned only three months before. She did not deserve another so soon.

“I thought I might find you here.” At Abram’s voice and his touch on her shoulder, she turned into his comforting embrace. “What’s wrong, dear one?”

Sarai released a troubled sigh and leaned back to better see his face. “Milcah.”

He nodded, but at his quizzical look, she knew he did not understand.

“She is flaunting her swollen belly, and I have no patience for her criticisms.”

“Ah,” he said, pulling her close again. “Milcah is jealous of your beauty, dear wife. She has nothing else to flaunt.” He patted her back, but the action did not soothe.

“I would rather have a child than beauty.” The words were a mere breath against his chest, but when his hands stilled, she knew he’d heard.

“And I would rather have you just as you are.” He held her at arm’s length, his gaze searching. “Do not trouble yourself or deny joy to others, dear one. You have nothing to fear.”

She looked into his handsome face and cupped his bearded cheek with her hand. He still carried the vigor of one much younger, and she rested in his strength as he held her. “But I do fear, dear husband. I fear I have failed to give you what you most deserve. Perhaps if I had been as Melah, you would already have a son.”

“I deserve nothing, Sarai. What I possess is only a gift. Adonai will give what He will.” He lifted her chin to look into her face. “Lot will have to live with his errors the rest of his days. Trust me in this, Sarai. A man who takes a woman before the proper time lives with long regrets, whether he realizes it or not.”

“Do you think Lot regrets marrying Melah?” she whispered. Abram often had Lot’s ear, and Abram had given the younger man a scathing lecture after the truth had come out.

“Lot is too brash and too charming, though he did repent of his act and agree to the marriage. But then, Father gave him no choice. He would have lost any inheritance if he had refused. Father has his honor.”