Epilogue

 

Job and his family were among the first ones Resurrected, globally. Paradise was still in its first century. They were taught that eventually almost everyone who had ever lived would be Returned, and taught the Truth. Arit had to admit, there were a few people he was waiting to see again.

But that would come after. The Gold Letters stopped coming for a while, and the world rejoiced to know that every man and woman who had been a faithful servant of Jehovah was now alive and well, sharing the world with nobody else, for the first time in history. There was a celebration that lasted for months.

The Celebration culminated in a Convention that would be shown to the whole world. The ‘famous faces’ of the Bible were all invited to be in attendance, telling their story from their own perspective to the audience. Some were uncomfortable with public speaking even now, and while they were seated in the front section of the amphitheater, some of their testimony was pre-recorded in more comfortable settings.

The telling of the Bible story by the people who were there to see it took days. It was carried out chronologically. Some of the more prominent names, like Moses, or David, or Elijah, had people to speak on their behalf, sharing what their experiences had meant at the time they happened, and not just to future generations.

The Kings and Prophets of Israel had many to speak for them. Job was a well respected patriarch, though he’d held no official title. Job spoke for himself, from the stage, sharing the details that hadn’t made it into the Bible record.

“My time of trial was… the worst time of my life. Indeed, it changed the course of my life in many ways.” Job told the audience, his words transmitted globally. “When I read about the life stories of people throughout history that have endured persecution, physical danger, even from their own family; and lifelong health problems that my generation had no name for; it’s important to remember that I am far from the only example of endurance. Indeed, many of the people who have sent me letters, thanking me for my example? Almost all of them had to endure suffering for much longer than I did.”

When his talk was over, Job accepted the applause of the crowd graciously, returning to his seat in the front section of the audience. Many of the Gold Letters were assembled there, famous names from the Scriptures; now returned, and united with all the generations.

As one of the speakers, Arit stepped up to the microphone, eager to share his part. “You have all heard the story of Job, no doubt many times in your life.” Arit wrapped up the symposium. “Today, you all heard it from the man himself. Certainly, as his servant, even his servant in exile; I never expected this. No matter how much I honored and loved Job; none of us thought he would be praised for thousands of years, in billions of homes. He was, and is, a great example to follow, but until recently, you all knew more about what happened to him, and why, than any of us did while we were living it.”

There was a murmur of assent from the audience.

“Job was always aware of his duty never to stumble another. Indeed, in our time, the way we acted was the only form of teaching about Jehovah we could offer to most people.” Arit continued. “But almost everyone I’ve met in this Paradise has mentioned how they took comfort from his example of just… holding on. Whatever else you can do, even when you can’t get out of bed in the morning, you just hold on.” He looked out over the crowd. “If anyone here can say that Job’s story gave them the courage to do the same, please stand up now, so that-”

Across the huge audience, hundreds of people had already jumped to their feet, eager to show solidarity.

Arit glanced at Job, sitting in the front section with his children, as he looked back at the amphitheater. Arit spoke again. “And if you took comfort from knowing that his trials were not from Jehovah, no matter what he was told; and that knowledge helped you overcome your own doubts about God’s Love…”

Many more people stood up, the sound of it echoing through the auditorium.

Arit nodded, eyes shining. “And those of you lucky enough to not go through such times of extreme trial; if you still found something in his story that helped you to make it through your days of… uncertainty, discouragement, feelings of worthlessness… If you’d like to express your own appreciation or admiration for this fellow, faithful servant of Jehovah…”

And every single person in the stadium rose to their feet, all at once. So did many of the Gold Letters, including Job’s family. The Patriarch himself, a little overwhelmed, looked around at the hundreds of thousands standing in solidarity with him.

Nobody noticed it, but in an unassuming corner of the stadium, a young Boy in a white tunic, with a guitar slung across his back, was the first one to start clapping. The whole audience took it up instantly. It grew, and grew until there was a roar of approval that shook the whole stadium, repeated across all the other meeting sites, watching the program all across the world.

Father, The Boy prayed. There are hundreds of others being honored this day, and still more to come in the future. I was blessed to be present for many of them, if not all. These men and women are being honored now for their own days of service to You and Your purpose. Thank You for the privilege I’ve had all this time. I remember all their names, just as You do. I’m glad the world gets to hear all their stories now. May nobody ever fear their good works have been worthless, or unnoticed.

Nobody noticed the Boy slip quietly out of the auditorium, smiling as he went.

The audience had been applauding and cheering ecstatically between many such ‘life stories’, but this moment was all for Job. The weeks of agonizing endurance had gained him a lifetime of blessings, but this was something he’d never had. The whole world taking a moment to appreciate the example he had set, when he had been his most alone.

Arit had plenty of time to wait for the applause to die down, and he couldn’t help but use the moment to give thanks of his own. Jehovah God, he prayed, direct from the stage. Thank you for my life, thank you for giving it back to me. Thank you that all the good we tried to do has never been forgotten, by You above all else. Thank you that even the smallest of gestures, given sincerely, has value. Thank you for the strength You gave us, so that we could make it here.

Thank you for everything You do for us, even the things we don’t know about.

In Jesus name, Amen.

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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Chapter Twelve: Promises Fulfilled

 

~~/*\~~ Arit ~~/*\~~

Arit was dying, but he wasn’t alone.

It had been several years since Job’s restoration and many blessings had made him one of the wealthiest, most honored men in the land of Uz. As manager of his household, and his wealth, Arit had been living a charmed life also.

Arit was never certain if Job was a brilliant teacher, or if Jehovah had given him some blessings of his own, but under Job’s direction, and Arit’s management, things had flourished for the family as it grew again in numbers and prosperity.

The illness had come on so gradually that nobody had noticed it at first. By the time the symptoms had been impossible to ignore, none of the healers could help.

Mahala had taken over his care. By that time, the eldest of their children was old enough to take over most of Arit’s tasks.

“You taught him well.” Mahala assured him as one of her daughters fed him soup, slow and steady.

“As your husband taught me. It’s… gratifying.” Arit said slowly, tired all the time now. “I watched that boy grow up. All of them, really.” He gave Jemimah a smile, shaking his head to refuse any more food. The beautiful young woman blinked back tears, kissing his forehead as she left Arit and her mother alone. “She knows I don’t have long left.”

Mahala nodded, nothing but love on her face. “She loves you like you’re part of our family, Arit. They all do. So do I. I can’t remember a life before you.”

“Oh, I can.” Arit chided her. “Barat and Parisha, always trying to one up each other.”

Mahala laughed. “They did, didn’t they?” She settled into a smile. It had taken a long time, but she had been able to remember all the good times about her lost children without the memories being poisoned by grief. The family had been moving from strength to strength for so long, it was almost hard to believe they’d ever lost so much.

As time had passed, and Job’s wealth and blessings multiplied, Arit had begun training their newborn children in taking care of the herds and flocks. Having grown up around Arit, they were eager to learn from someone who had become such a part of the household, he was essentially part of the family.

Arit had been unable to resist doting on them when they were younger. Jemimah and Keziah had been crushed to learn that his health had turned so badly for the worse. They were both outside the room, praying earnestly for a miracle that might save him. The sort of prayers that the young always made.

“Can you believe I was actually a little jealous of the way those two acted around you?” Mahala teased, hearing her youngest daughters.

“It was easy to become their favorite. I just kept sneaking them treats whenever you weren't looking.”

“It wasn’t like I didn’t know.” She retorted lightly. “You bought their love with honey cakes.”

“It was for sale, and I could afford it.” Arit teased back.

Comfortable silence.

“Always thought you’d end up outliving us, Arit.” Mahala admitted, smile fading a little. “Before the children were born, after… it happened? I always thought that maybe we’d leave it all to you.”

Arit coughed in shock. “What?”

“There was a period where I was… well, terrified to become a mother again. You had done so much for us. And given your love for Parisha, I was willing to pretend you were our son-in-law.”

Arit settled into the bed, tired again. “I would have liked that, but it’s better this way.”

“Oh?”

“Children are a legacy. You and Job lost so much, when they died. It’s right that you be granted such long lives in return. I would even call it justice.”

“Justice would be if you could live forever with us, dear one.” She squeezed his hand. “I never told you this, but years ago? When Job tried a little innocent meddling to find you a wife? I told him how you felt about Parisha. He was surprised, but he said a man would count himself lucky to have someone like you as a son-in-law.”

Arit had never married. He’d been too young for Parisha to really be a possibility, and his effort to grow into the role that Job had pushed him to afterwards had taken up most of his time. “Given my age, I’m glad that I never seriously sought a wife of my own. I’d be leaving her, possibly children of my own.”

“You’ve seen, all too well, how that kind of loss hurts a wife.” Mahala conceded. “But I still wish you could have had a family.”

“I do have a family.” Arit promised, eyes closing. “Any parental feelings I might nurture have been richly blessed over the years in this house.” He coughed a bit, settled. “And despite myself, I wonder how you did it.”

“Whenever I feel that fear of it happening again?” Mahala said softly to him. “I count all the blessings I have. All of them. Every time I heard one of my children laugh. Every time the stars were beautiful enough to make me pause and look up at them. Every time I woke to the smell of freshly baked bread. Every answered prayer. Every moment of affection. I can spend all day counting good things. All the good gifts.”

Arit smiled, starting to feel like he was floating. “That’s nice.” He yawned. “Think I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Okay.” Mahala squeezed his hand. “Arit? When I count my blessings, I always count you among the best of them.”

Arit smiled. Jehovah, sovereign Lord, sole and rightful master over the universe… Thank you for my life. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I know that this-

…what was I saying? I… I think…

Dear God, thank you for all the good in my life, and I’m sorry about the bad I have done. I hope that-

…that…

~~/*\~~

Arit opened his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Something had changed. The bed under him was gone. The sweaty tunic he wore under the covers was replaced with something soft and comfortable. The blanket was gone too, come to that, and he felt long, cool grass under him.

Arit opened his eyes and sat up. He was outside. And he felt… good. He felt more solid and healthy than he could remember being in months.

“Arit?” An unfamiliar voice called from nearby, and he turned to look. Two men were sitting on the grass a few feet away. There was a woven basket with fruits and bread rolls between them. They were both smiling, wearing clothing in an unfamiliar style. “My name is Cory, and this is my friend Marco.”

“Hello.” Arit bowed. “Um… where am I?”

“You’re going to have questions.” Marco said warmly. “Take your time. There will likely be a lot of them.” He was tucking a small gold-colored page into his pocket. “For now, rest assured that you are safe and well; and among friends, and fellow servants of Jehovah God.”

The name changed Arit’s view of them immediately. “Oh? Then you must come to the house and we will-” He paused, looking around the unfamiliar area. “Where is the house? Where is Mahala? I was just talking to her…”

Both men traded a look. “Your wife?”

“My employer’s wife. I am servant to Job and his family.”

“Job?” Marco repeated swiftly. He and Cory traded a sudden, shocked look.

Arit didn’t recognize the energy suddenly crackling between them, but it was clear that he’d struck a nerve. “You know that name?” He shook his head. “Of course you do. Every follower of Jah in the Cities of Uz knows that name.”

Dead silence.

“Okay…” Cory said finally. “You’re going to have questions. And… I guess we have questions too.” He took a breath. “Before anything else, let’s start here.” He patted the basket. “Let’s have a meal, and we’ll explain a few things.” Marco started setting out the food. “Now, you were like us, a servant of Jehovah.” Cory explained. “As such, you probably knew about the Promise, that one day, God would reclaim full authority over the world, and demonstrate what His leadership is really like.”

“I remember.” Arit nodded. “Job taught me that, when he was- oh.” Arit blinked. “A major part of that Promise was that the dead would be raised to life. That He would call, and we would answ- Oh!”

“Yeah, you see it now.” Marco took in his shocked expression with a warm smile.

“H-How-” Arit struggled to find the words. “How long?”

“A long time.” Cory admitted. “But what matters isn’t how long you’ve been gone; it’s how long you have ahead of you. And that is… all the time in the world. But however long it’s been, you are our brother. Even if we haven’t met you yet.” He clasped Arit’s hand. “Welcome back.”

~~/*\~~

They had walked with him to the community space. He was seeing more and more people as they walked. It was easily three times the size of the City of Uz, but the mood between the people was like family-owned land; as if everyone was related to each other. Which was impossible. In his time with Job, Arit had met Orientals, Nubians, Hebrews, Egyptians… There were more nations represented here than Arit had ever seen in one place. The clothing was varied too. He didn’t recognize the kind of cultures represented by the clothing around him.

There were things here that Arit couldn’t guess at. His new friends had called it ‘technology’. It was almost scaring Arit, but they had assured him that there was nothing to fear. They had given him a place to live, at no charge, and promised to help him prepare a more permanent option once he was settled.

The meals had been communal. As the whole community ate breakfast, prayers were offered, very similar to the sorts of things Job had said. Announcements were made, and Arit discovered he wasn’t the only one trying to catch up on the passage of centuries. The length of time he’d been asleep in death was longer than the world before him had even existed, according to Job.

“Three thousand years?” He breathed.

“Give or take. Don’t let the numbers intimidate you.” Cory counseled Arit. “We became many, and we made new machines; but in a lot of ways, we were degenerating into something terrible. Terrible enough that God Himself had to intervene. Human civilization has barely started. At least in all of the good ways.”

~~/*\~~

Arit had taken few jobs in his life. These people seemed to want for nothing. The mealtimes had little in the way of meat products. Not even small game. But the variety of food available was remarkable. There were flavors and seasonings represented here that he’d never heard of. The clothing was made of various materials, some of which he didn’t recognize. The bowls and plates were solid. Some of the bowls and platters were familiar ceramics. The cups and pitchers were made of glass, or something called ‘plastic’, which would apparently last forever, and seemed unbreakable.

There seemed little use for a shepherd, or a potter’s assistant here.

The others assured him that there was no rush, and plenty of places where a strong, healthy man could help out. But right now, everyone agreed his most important job was to figure out where he was, and how.

Which meant that much of his days were devoted to study, with Marco and Cory as his teachers. They had all sorts of material and information that Job hadn’t had, and Arit was awed by most of it. Job had taught him about Jehovah by telling stories and reasoning on them. The idea of learning from a ‘video’ wasn’t even something Arit could imagine in his old life.

And yet these miracles seemed commonplace to his new friends, who taught him about the history of Jehovah’s dealings with the people of Earth.

“I had heard, from the Acolytes to Baal, that Israel as a nation was enslaved in Egypt.” Arit told his teachers. “A few months before I… well, before I died, there had been confused, conflicting stories that Egypt had suffered a catastrophe of some kind. Nobody was quite sure what. The reports were… fantastic, to say the least.”

“You have no idea.” Marco agreed with a grin. “We’ve had people Returned who were there when it happened. You can speak to them if you want.”

~~/*\~~

The study inevitably turned to Job eventually. Arit was awed. He’d never seen a Bible before, but he recognized the power of a Holy Book. Especially in a Paradise full of spiritual people. Most of the people he was meeting had been present for supernatural events, from the Plagues of Egypt, to the time of Tribulation. Almost everyone had a story. Including himself.

“I gotta admit, I’m curious.” Marco asked. “What do you think now, knowing what was really going on back then?”

“I’m amazed that all of this is written down, and has been for thousands of years.” Arit nodded, poring over the pages. “We already knew the Time of Trial that hit Job was more than simple bad luck. Almost everyone in Uz assumed a supernatural source. A lot assumed it was Jehovah, but once it was over, and the… Well, this sounds selfish, but once the blessings came back, it all seemed right.”

“Well, I’m sure there were some things you couldn’t shake off, no matter how well things turned out.” Marco guessed. “Does having this new information settle that?”

“Knowing where the troubles came from?” Arit nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Fearing it would happen again?” He smirked. “I died before the bad times could fall on us again, so that’s less of a worry here in Paradise.”

Cory’s head tilted, studying him. “But there’s something else.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Arit answered it anyway. “Why did I survive? Was it something I did, or something I had to do? Was it a blessing, being spared, or for some purpose-”

Marco had his Bible out. “I am the only one who escaped to tell you.”

“T-that’s- That’s me.” Arit stammered, scanning through the page, reading the whole account. “I was written about in your holy book?”

Marco nodded. “I hate to tell you this, friend. Jehovah didn’t spare you. He wasn’t involved at all in that part. You were spared because someone had to tell Job. It happened because the Devil himself decided to inflict as much suffering on a servant of Jehovah as he could. It was all done to see how much misery it would take, to break a righteous man.”

Arit stared at him. “That’s it? I was spared, so that someone would deliver the message?”

“The news about his attendants, his wealth, and his children all came at the same time. Satan had a sense of the theatrical.”

“I remember.” Arit was starting to shake. “It-it could have been my brother. It could have been any of us. It only takes one person to deliver a message.”

Marco nodded, standing back enough to let him process. “The important part of the story when I first heard it? Even after everything, Job did not turn against Jehovah. He gave in to grief, once or twice; but he never gave up. Job didn’t know any of this either. His crowning moment of glory before God was when he was alone, miserable, and barely able to scratch at his sores.”

Arit almost smiled, suddenly having a vivid memory of a lone piece of pottery, being tossed from his hand to his broken master. “We all do our part. Sometimes in unexpected ways.”

Marco made sure he had the man’s full attention again before he spoke again. “I was there at the end of the Last Days. In those times, Satan was turning loose everything he could on the world as a whole. Nobody in the world had hope for anything. We knew the whole human race was coming to an end. Servants of Jehovah were reminded of Job. Because we knew what he knew.”

Offhand, Arit could think of two or three ways to answer that, but he knew someone from a totally different century would think differently. “And what is that?”

“That Satan, at his worst, with all the world in his grip; at his most sadistic, could never destroy anything or anyone so thoroughly that Jehovah God couldn’t put it back together again. I can tell you that for a fact, because the moment it started to get that far, Jehovah put a stop to it; and made it right.”

“As He did for us.” Arit answered reflexively.

Marco smiled brilliantly, eyes shining with emotion just from the conversation. “My brother, you have barely seen the tiniest glimpse of what Jehovah can do when He really wants to give blessings and rewards.” He gestured. “Look at you, raised from the dead. Do you think Job will be happy to see you again?”

Arit jerked. He’d heard about ‘everyone’ being brought back, but even after learning how long had passed, he hadn’t really pictured Job and Mahala as ‘dead’, since they were still around after he was. He would later feel a little ashamed to admit that his first thought wasn’t for Job. “Are they all here?”

“Some. The servants of Jehovah are all coming back first. It’s mainly chronological, but some of the ‘famous’ names are being treated as special cases. I know that most of Job’s children are back, as is his wife-”

Arit lurched to his feet. “Where are they?!”

Marco blinked at the sudden agitation, but smiled slowly. Reunions were one of the best parts of the world now, and he’d seen that reaction before, from almost everyone. “Why don’t we find out together?”

~~/*\~~

It took a few days to make the journey. In those days, Arit got a much clearer view of the world. There were things that would take him years to sort out. But the important points were familiar. He’d spent almost all of his life around Job and his family. Apparently, it was a big part of the reason why he had been Returned early.

When he found out that some of them had already come back, he had to go to them immediately. Marco and Cory went with him, of course. It took Arit a little while to notice it, but they were trying not to pepper him with questions.

The vehicles they used were… different. Enough that Arit was unsettled by them. Marco and Cory noticed, and arranged some horses for them to travel most of the way. It was slower, but more familiar.

“After all…” Cory had said with a smile. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

The journey was done in stages. There were places open to travelers all over the place. There were always beds and tables of food available to anyone who needed a place to stay. Apparently a lot of the world was on the move, looking for loved ones, and taking part in construction.

~~/*\~~

Once they arrived at the stables, Arit felt his heart start to race.

“Being a herder is less of an industry these days.” Marco told him. “Meat is much less a factor in our diets, and we have synthetics you’ve never heard of for clothing. Horses and cattle are still part of our lives, but the alternatives are-”

Arit wasn’t listening. He slid off his horse and ran across the stables. “Jemimah!”

Jemimah turned to see him, and smiled broadly. “Arit!” She almost shrieked. “You’re here! You’re back!” They collided into a hug that nearly toppled them both over. “You’re back! You’re back!”

With tears in his eyes, Arit pulled back enough to look at Jemimah and looked at her in disbelief, his hands cupping her face. “Look at you…” He whispered in disbelief. It was undeniably her, but she was… old. Her face had rounded, and her hair silvered. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen many elderly people on his journey here. There was no illness, no weakness.

She ran a hand through her still gray hair. “Look a little different from the last time we spoke, don’t I?” She cupped his face too. “And you. You haven’t changed at all.” Her eyes welled up. “Well. You’re healthier.” She sniffed, blinking it away. “You should have seen me a year ago, when I first came back. All hunched over?” She laughed. “We’re getting younger every day.”

Arit felt like he was walking on quicksand. “The last time I saw you, you were still a teenager.”

She laughed wildly. “Come on. The others will be thrilled to see you.”

~~/*\~~

They were all there. It was such a large crowd, that Arit almost thought that it was a Congregation meeting. They were all busy, setting out tables, putting out food, and building a few new structures.

It was the family. All of them.

Arit’s mouth went dry when he realized that he knew these faces. He saw Barat, who was born years before Jemimah, and looked young enough to be her grandson in comparison. Barat was feeding carrots to one of the largest, most beautiful horses that Arit had ever seen. They were nothing like the horses he had seen before, but he only had eyes for the people.

Sitting astride the horse was a familiar face. From her vantage point, Mahala saw him being hauled closer by Jemimah, and the older woman smiled like she’d seen a miracle.

Haven’t we all. Arit thought as his old friend jumped down from the horse to run over. A world full of miracles. Every day, every hour, more miracles.

Mahala slid down from the horse, and came to him, embracing him warmly, tears in her eyes. “You have been sorely missed, my old friend.”

It’s only been a few days…

~~/*\~~

The family was busy building a new home. Mahala had been the first one returned, and she had been allotted a piece of land. While her sons continued working, she sat with Arit, and filled him in on what he’d missed. Marco and Cory had gone to lend a hand to the builders, giving them privacy to talk.

“From what I understand, one of the kids told the story to Moses, after Job and I had both passed.” Mahala explained. “Moses was a prophet, and assigned as leader of the sons of Israel, so he had higher authority to appeal to Jehovah and get the ‘background’ on the story. I didn’t know why it happened either, until I came back. I never could have imagined the story would be told in every single land for centuries to come.”

“I was included in the narrative myself, my lady.” Arit nodded. “It was… humbling to think about.”

(Author’s Note: All this is my own invention. We know the book of Job was penned by Moses, likely sometime during the Israelite's trek in the wilderness, but the exact details of how Moses heard the story are unknown. The Bible also records the conversations between Jehovah and Satan, so it stood to reason at least some of it was under inspiration.)

“You’re humbled?” She retorted. “My part in the Bible story is hardly complimentary. History remembered me as one of Job’s many stumbling blocks during that time.” She shivered. “It took my ‘welcoming party’ a while to figure out that I was someone they’d heard of. And then a while longer for me to understand just how widespread the knowledge of our trials were. Every man and woman in the world knows my husband’s name. Everyone alive knows that I told him to give up.”

Arit reached out and squeezed her hand. “And they know that he didn’t, which is far more important to them.”

Mahala lowered her voice. “When I found out why it happened, I was stunned. To be honest, I was angry at God for a few days. It felt like we lost our children because more powerful beings made a wager over our suffering.” She gave him a look. “Then Barat was resurrected, and I was assigned to meet him. It was less than four days after I arrived in Paradise.”

Arit smiled. “Jehovah didn’t make you wait for long before he started returning your loved ones to you.”

“They all came back within six months.” She nodded. “We could barely keep up with the blessings. Reunions every week, introductions for the… well, the ‘younger’ children.”

Arit looked around. “I recognize almost all these faces. The ones born years after the calamity… They’re all older than their eldest siblings.”

Mahala nodded. “Because the ones born after all made it to old age.” She nodded. “Health and vigor returned as soon as we arrived here. Youthful appearances are returning. It’s said we age backwards now, until we return to the ‘right’ age.” She chuckled. “Some of the children are a little alarmed at the idea that Job and I might look the same age as them soon.”

Arit jerked, caught off guard by the thought. “Where is Job?”

“Not back yet.” Mahala admitted. “The order of the Returning seems logical enough, but there are exceptions. Apparently, Jehovah God has decided that when Job is returned, all his family should be here to greet him.” She clasped his hand warmly. “Which is why it’s only fitting that you be returned early too, Arit.”

“I can see God’s reasoning on the matter.” Arit nodded, a little stunned at how quickly such miracles had become accepted as fact in his mind. “Job never has to live another day in a world without anyone he loves.”

“You remember, I told you that for a while I was afraid to become a mother again?” Mahala commented, voice hitching with emotion. “Well, any lingering pain is healed now. They’re back. They’re all back.”

“Arit?” A familiar voice called.

Arit felt his heart stop as he turned to see Parisha, young and beautiful and radiant, coming up behind them. He stood up on legs that were suddenly trembling under him. “Parisha?”

She smiled at him brightly. “It’s good to see you again.” She was staring at his face, a lot older than she remembered it. Last time they’d spoken, she’d been older than he was. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

He blinked. “For what?”

Parisha smiled. “My mother has told me all about what happened. She says that when everyone else had died, or abandoned my family as cursed, you stayed, and risked your own safety and livelihood to keep my parent’s going. She told me all about your loyalty, your friendship, your character…” She stepped forward and gave him a tight hug. “If it’s not too late to say it: Thank you so much.” She broke the hug and kissed both his cheeks tenderly.

Mahala was watching all this with a smile so big it nearly bounced off her face. Unable to restrain herself, she started laughing.

Parisha started to step back, and Arit tightened his arms instinctively, eyes welling up. He started giggling too. Parisha wasn’t sure what had set her mother off, but she stayed and let him hold her a little longer. When they parted, Arit had tears rolling down his smiling face.

Still standing close to Parisha, Arit looked to Mahala. “You sang my praises, hm?”

“Someone had to.” Mahala smiled like a woman half her age, and burst into giggles again.

“What’s so funny?” Parisha asked innocently.

The question just set her mother off laughing uproariously. Arit joined in, knowing that neither of them could resist the sheer happiness coming from the reunion. Mahala wiped the tears from her eyes as she rose and called to her eldest son. “Barat!” She shouted. “Make plans to build another home on our land. We have another reunion to celebrate, and Arit belongs with our family!”

~~/*\~~

A year passed. The children had all been Returned, the land prepared and stocked with animals and livestock. The need for them in the world had dropped, but a good percentage of the current population hadn’t embraced modern technology yet. The world was still rebuilding infrastructure that was left in ruins at the collapse of the Old World. There was no rush for each person to decide what kind of lifestyle they would lead.

Arit had taken his place as Mahala’s servant again, though it was clear such titles were a thing of the Old World. The economy had changed in such a way that there was little reason to work for profit. The animals they raised weren’t needed as food anymore, though textiles from the wool were in great demand; as the world was filling up with people to house and clothe.

As other people from Bible times also returned to what they knew, the extended family were giving out newborn lambs and livestock to help get other families started, as well as revitalize good grazing land. All through the last year, there had been a slow, steady stream of people making a ‘pilgrimage’ to discuss the events that everyone had read about in the Scriptures, with the people who were there.

Some of Job’s children were full of curiosity about the world, finally able to see more of it than they ever imagined, and some of them took journeys. Mahala was delighted to find more grandchildren than she ever expected, and the family land grew larger.

Arit took the opportunity to get to know Parisha as an equal, rather than a servant. She was as overwhelmed by the world as he was, and like many people, they both retreated to the familiar company of their immediate family. Arit was someone she knew, and he ended up telling her as much about her new siblings as Mahala did. They were growing closer as a result, and Arit considered it the greatest blessing of all.

But finally, a year after Arit returned, Mahala made an announcement to the whole family, waving the Gold Letter over her head in excitement.

Job would be returned to life soon.

~~/*\~~

It wasn’t just the family that were gathering to greet him. Experienced Brothers from across the world had been given notice that a famous Bible figure was on the way. Such moments had to be handled with care. Many of the people who had their stories recorded in the Bible had no idea of what they were awakening to. Even those that knew of the Promise of Paradise had no inkling of the fame that the new world held for them.

Marco and Cory had been Arit’s welcoming party, and had taught him enough from the Bible to put the story together. They had become friends in the process. Enough that he told them everything over the phone.

“Ever since I got here, there’s been one conspicuous absence at the family dinner table.” Arit told them. “And while the anticipation has been sharp, the absolute certainty that he would be back made the waiting not only bearable, but joyful for everyone. Even Mahala.”

“I know what you mean.” Cory answered. “I’m looking forward to a few reunions of my own, though they may still be centuries off. But knowing it’s a certainty is…”

“The way we should have felt in the Old World, knowing this Paradise was coming?” Arit guessed. “Rejoicing in hope. Isn’t that what the scripture said?

“It did.” Cory agreed. “But it’s so much easier to see hope here than it was in the old days. Back then, we held on with faith, hope, and love. Here in this world, we don’t need faith to see what’s right in front of us. Faith is now certainty. Love? That’s something we keep forever. Even the scripture says it’s the most important part.” Arit murmured inaudibly over the phone for a minute. “Marco wants to talk to you.”

“Put him on.” Arit nodded, glancing over the crowd.

There was a scuffling sound as the phone was handed over. A moment later, Marco spoke. “How is it there?”

“There’s a bigger crowd, just from family members, than at most congregation meetings.” Arit remarked.

Marco laughed. “If it was anyone else, I’d wonder if it was too much for him. But Job’s coping skills are legendary in our century.”

Arit chuckled warmly. “You were right, you know. A year ago, when you told me that the most important lesson of Job was that Satan could never make anything so bad that God can’t make it right again? You undersold it. All of this was… something that was taken away, and now God has given it back. But it’s so much more than what was lost. The blessings are ten-fold. A hundred-fold.” Arit commented to Marco. “After a year in Paradise, I see that now. But back when we first met, I took a very different lesson from learning about the… the heavenly side of those dark days.”

“Oh? What was that?” Marco asked, interested.

“As desperately as we clung to our faith in Jehovah to see us through, it never occurred to me that God might be betting His reputation on us.”

“And He was right.” Marco laughed. “Job was proof that Jehovah was right about humans. More than any man before him, Job was the proof that man could love Jehovah, even when times were hard. Speaking as a Trib survivor, it was an important lesson to hold onto.” The smile in his voice was obvious. “Ask yourself, with all the limitations removed, what will Jehovah do to say ‘thank you’?”

Arit was about to answer, when he noticed everyone quieting down. “It’s starting. I’ll call tomorrow, let you know what happened.”

~~/*\~~

There had been no signal. At least, not anything audible or visible. But all at once, everyone stopped talking, and turned to face the door. After a few moments, the door opened, and out stepped Job, flanked by Mahala, and the brothers who had met him. Job stepped out into the open, looking awed by the whole thing. When he saw the crowd, he was surprised. When he saw his children at the front, he ran forward with incredible grace, his vitality at odds with his elderly appearance.

Parisha and Barat were the first ones running forward to greet him, delighted. Arit felt tears in his eyes as he moved closer also. The rest were already smiling, lining up for their turn to embrace their father and patriarch. After all, there was no rush.

They had all the time in the world.

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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