The Strength of His Hand (22 page)

Everything’s falling apart!”

“I’ll explain to the king that you had nothing to do with it, that I disobeyed you… .”

“He’s not in the mood for explanations, Jerusha.” Eliakim passed his hand over his face and groaned. “Why did you do this to me, Jerusha?”

Why had she done it? Why had she put Hephzibah’s needs before her own husband’s? She had to think, had to remember why—before she lost Eliakim forever.

“I didn’t want to disobey you, but I had no choice. God compelled me to go, Eliakim. Who would speak for God if I didn’t?”

His expression changed as if she’d slapped him. “What did you say?”

“I said, Who would speak for God if I didn’t?”

He groaned, then quickly turned and walked away from her, disappearing down the hall. A moment later she heard the door to their courtyard slam. Jerusha waited, unsure what to do. Her fear of losing Eliakim rose to terrifying proportions. At last she followed him outside to the garden. He was sitting on the bench with his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his face.

“Eliakim, talk to me! What’s wrong?”

“That’s what Isaiah said. He asked who would speak for God in the palace if I didn’t.”

“Then you know how hard it is to obey God when there’s so much at risk, so very much to lose. Going back to see Hephzibah against your wishes was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I had to tell her that God loved her, that He would forgive her— don’t you see?”

Minutes passed as Eliakim sat with his head in his hands, the longest minutes of Jerusha’s life.

“Please don’t send me away,” she whispered. “Please, Eliakim. I love you so much.”

He reached for her and drew her to him, resting his face against her body as she stood over him. “I’ve forced you into the same trap I’m in, Jerusha,” he said softly. “But obeying God is always the right choice. Will you forgive me?”

She crouched beside him and answered him with a kiss.

17

S
HEBNA STEPPED OUT
of the new chariot he had brought back from his trip as ambassador to Egypt and stood with his hands on his hips, watching the workers hew out his tomb from the rocky cliff face. The monument disappointed him. The pyramid on top looked so much smaller than he’d envisioned.

“Careful! You are taking too much off!” he shouted to the mason chiseling it from the bedrock. “I want to be able to see it from up there.” He pointed to Jerusalem, across the Kidron Valley from where they stood.

Shebna wanted this monument to be visible from his palace window; he wanted to gaze down on it from the Temple Mount during the long, boring services. He’d chosen this prominent spot, the highest on the ridge, to build an imposing memorial to himself, knowing that future generations would pay homage at his grave. It must be a tomb fit for a king.

The project foreman walked forward to bow to Shebna, dusting his hands on his tunic. “It will be the most magnificent tomb in Jerusalem, my lord. Except for the king’s, of course.”

“But not as magnificent as the tombs of my ancestors. Have you heard of the great pyramids of Egypt?”

“Who hasn’t, my lord?”

“The Egyptians know how to immortalize their great leaders.” He frowned at the rough pyramid taking shape on top of his tomb, wishing it was larger. Even so, it would be the only tomb that had a pyramid. “You will remember to prepare a large place above the door for the inscription?”

“Of course. It’s on the plans you gave me.”

“Well, make certain you consult those plans once in a while. Take care you do not make a stupid mistake. You cannot put the stone back once you have chiseled it off.”

“I know that, my lord.”

“You are building a memorial that will be looked upon for centuries to come, like the tombs of David and Solomon. I helped bring about this age of prosperity and glory in Judah, and …” Shebna stopped when he saw the foreman’s attention wander to a point beyond his left shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

“Excuse me, sir, but you have company.”

Shebna whirled around to find Isaiah standing beside the new chariot. The rabbi appraised it carefully, running his hands over the blue and gold deities painted on the sides; then he wiped his hands on his thighs as if they had been contaminated.

“Are you looking for me, Rabbi?” Shebna asked. He hoped not. He felt wary of this complex man, distrustful of his secret sources of information. Isaiah had an uncanny knack of guessing the future, and he had used it to manipulate King Hezekiah over the years. He seemed to want to control the king, yet he had refused the palace administrator’s job when Hezekiah had offered it to him. Isaiah was a descendant of the house of David—did he want to be king? Shebna couldn’t make sense of the man.

“Will you answer a question for me?” Isaiah asked politely.

“I will try.”

Isaiah took a step closer, and his stance suddenly became challenging. “What are you doing here, and who gave you permission to cut out a grave for yourself here, hewing your tomb on the height and chiseling your resting place in the rock?”

“I do not need anyone’s permission to take whatever tract of land I please and do whatever I want with it.” Shebna squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, confident in the power and position he held. But much to his amazement, Isaiah suddenly smiled, a fleeting grin of superiority and satisfaction that quickly vanished.

“Beware, the Lord is about to take firm hold of you and hurl you away, O you mighty man.”

His words infuriated Shebna. “Just who do you think you are!”

“He will roll you up tightly like a ball and throw you into a large country. There you will die and there your splendid chariots will remain—you disgrace to your master’s house!”

“How dare you talk to me that way? I am—”

“I know who you are, Shebna.”

“Then you know that I have played a key role in shaping this nation and bringing about this age of prosperity.”

“Yahweh brought about this age of prosperity, not you.”

“I have educated the king and advised him from the very beginning of his reign—”

“And now you will bring about the destruction of everything he has built.” Isaiah took another step closer, and his eyes bore into Shebna’s. “Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help, who rely on horses, who trust in the multitude of their chariots and in the great strength of their horsemen, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel, or seek help from the Lord… . He will rise up against the house of the wicked, against those who help evildoers.”

“I have heard enough!” Shebna shouted. “You know nothing about government. What right do you have to criticize my decisions?

This alliance with Egypt will be Judah’s salvation if Assyria—”

“The Egyptians are men and not God; their horses are flesh and not spirit. When the Lord stretches out his hand, he who helps will stumble, he who is helped will fall; both will perish together.”

“Myths and lies! King Hezekiah’s only weakness is that he continues to believe in your myths and lies. And my single failing as his teacher is that I have been unable to convince him to reject these childish superstitions that he clings to. But now with these treaties, I have begun to change his thinking. At last he is beginning to understand the need for alliances with other nations. And when he finally discards your worthless, outdated laws, it will be the crowning achievement of my term of office as palace administrator!”

The self-satisfied smile on Isaiah’s face flashed again—swiftly, fleetingly. “This is what the Lord, the Lord Almighty, says: ‘Go, say to this steward, to Shebna, who is in charge of the palace: … I will depose you from your office, and you will be ousted from your position. In that day I will summon my servant, Eliakim son of Hilkiah—”’ “Never!”

“ ‘I will clothe him with your robe and fasten your sash around him and hand your authority over to him—”’ “Liar! That will never happen!”

“‘He will be a father to those who live in Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. I will place on his shoulder the key to the house of David; what he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open.’ ” “Not Eliakim!
Anyone
but that self-righteous—” Shebna rushed toward Isaiah, angry enough to strike him, but the rabbi calmly turned his back and walked down the path toward the Washerman’s Field. A string of curses poured from Shebna’s mouth, but Isaiah showed no sign that he had heard them. Trembling with fury, Shebna climbed into his new chariot again.

“Take me back to the palace,” he told the driver. But Shebna felt none of the pride in his new vehicle that he had felt earlier, and the journey up the steep ramp to the city felt bumpy and uncomfortable. One thing he knew for certain: Shebna feared Isaiah’s words as he feared little else.

Hezekiah stared at the letter in his hands, wishing he could crumple it between his fists and toss it into the flames. “It certainly didn’t take our allies very long to make their first demand,” he said.

“What is it?” Shebna asked.

“They want us to help the Philistines overthrow King Padi of Ekron.”

“Why?”

“He refuses to join our coalition.”

“You did promise military support to all our allies,” Shebna said.

“I know I did, but I thought I would be fighting the Assyrians. I never dreamed the treaty would drag me into a civil war among the Philistines. Why can’t they solve this themselves? Why involve me?”

“Well, we
are
their closest neighbor—” Shebna began, but Eliakim interrupted him.

“No. They could defeat King Padi without our help. They’re forcing us to prove our commitment to the alliance, Your Majesty.”

“King Padi expects an attack from his fellow Philistines,” Shebna said. “Our army would take him by surprise.”

Eliakim shook his head. “The alliance is using us to bait the Assyrians. Padi was appointed by the King of Assyria.We shouldn’t provoke him by attacking his puppet king. It serves no purpose except to earn the Assyrians’ attention and wrath.”

“You are wrong,” Shebna said. “If we help the Philistines, it will prove that we are united against Assyria. They would not dare attack a coalition that stretches from Egypt to Babylon.”

“You greatly underestimate the Assyrians,” Eliakim said. “And our other allies do, too.”

Shebna started to argue, but Hezekiah stopped him. “Suppose I decide to help them. Can you come up with a plan, General Jonadab?”

“We could launch a surprise attack from Socoh. It’s the closest military garrison to Ekron.”

Hezekiah only half listened as the general spelled out his plans for the conquest of Ekron and the capture of King Padi. Instead, he watched Eliakim, who appeared more and more troubled as the meeting progressed, running his fingers through his hair, shaking his head, staring at the floor. When Jonadab finished, the throne room fell silent.

“I want everyone to leave,” Hezekiah said. “Everyone except

Eliakim.” When they were finally alone, Hezekiah turned to his secretary of state.

“You want my resignation,” Eliakim said quietly.

Hezekiah stared at him in surprise. “That’s the farthest thing from my mind. I need your advice now more than ever, yet I’m forced to disagree with you again. Frankly, that worries me. Shebna’s logic makes the most sense, yet I know he’s leaving God out of his plans. I don’t want to leave God out, Eliakim, but I don’t understand why you and Isaiah think God is against this alliance.”

“I would never presume to understand God, Your Majesty, or to speak for Him. But you don’t need to turn to other nations for help when you can trust Yahweh.”

“If I didn’t trust Yahweh I wouldn’t have the courage to rebel against Assyria and join the alliance.”

“But you’re trying to do both, Your Majesty—to trust God and still have a backup plan, just in case. Rabbi Isaiah and I believe you were wrong to get involved in the alliance in the first place.”

“I know I was.” He saw the surprise on Eliakim’s face. “It’s true. I was wrong. I know that now, but it’s too late. I signed the treaty with Babylon in a moment of foolish pride; then I couldn’t refuse when Egypt made the same offer. Now I have to help the Philistines.

If I don’t, I’ll be in the same mess as King Padi. The coalition will turn against me.”

“I see what you mean, Your Majesty.”

“The irony is, I wanted the treaty with Babylon because I wanted to control my nation’s future. But now the coalition is making all of my decisions for me. I had more freedom when I chose to place myself in the hands of an infinite God. At least with God there was room for a miracle.”

Hezekiah didn’t know why he felt the need to explain himself to Eliakim, but he felt more comfortable with him than he did with Shebna. The long, lonely months with no one to confide in had left him with a full heart and a heavy soul.

“I wanted to be in control, Eliakim—to be able to save myself.

When I was a child, my father sent soldiers to the palace nursery for my brothers and me. They carried us away against our wills and sacrificed my brothers to Molech. I watched my father burn them alive in the flames, and I was powerless to save them or myself. Being helpless is such a terrifying feeling that I swore I’d never experience it again. That’s what motivates me to make alliances. I want to save my nation and myself from Assyria. I don’t ever want to stand helpless before my enemies again. But now I wish I could roll time backward and do everything differently. I wish I had listened to you and had never made a treaty with Babylon. But I can’t change what I’ve done. I can’t go back in time … only forward.”

Eliakim sat with his head lowered, twisting the signet ring on his finger as if he still expected Hezekiah to ask for it.

“I want to follow your advice this time, too, Eliakim, but I can’t. I just wanted to explain that to you, alone. I have no choice. I have to go to war against King Padi. But I’m going to ask General Jonadab to take him alive and bring him here to Jerusalem.”

“Then I don’t understand. How can I help you, Your Majesty?”

“Don’t be afraid to disagree with me. I value your opinion, Eliakim, even if I can’t always heed it.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. I’m very honored.”