~/*\~ Ashura ~/*\~
Moses had been on the mountain for a month. The other Appointed men had returned to the camp, telling stories of the visions they had seen, and the glory of Jehovah. After Moses had gone up the rest of the way alone, there had been a week of terrible signs from the top of the Mountain.
Ashura had come back to the camp with Tzioni, peppering him with eager questions.
“We believe Moses is in conference with Jehovah, getting details on our new nation. There’s a lot more to it than just the laws we have already.”
Ashura nodded, right at his heels. “The Camp is buzzing with talk about what we’ve gotten so far. The ones that aren’t trembling in their tents, anyway.”
“The thunder and fire from the mountain has them scared?” He looked at Ashura. “But not you?”
“They’re scared for the same reason I want to get closer.” She nodded. “It’s power. Divine, genuine, acts of the most powerful being in existence. Most of the people in this assembly are used to exercises of power being bad for them.”
“The manna?”
“Arrives silently, and without fanfare, on a set schedule.” Ashura countered dutifully. “Thunder and lightning is a show, meant to impress on everyone who watches just who’s in charge. Can you imagine what Pharaoh would do if he could conjure thunder and lightning and fire?” She looked up the mountain. “I’d give my teeth to see what Moses is surely seeing up there.”
“Me too.” Tzioni agreed.
She smiled winningly at him. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll be you next.”
“I think not.” He scoffed.
“Why not? Moses is eighty years old. Sooner or later, there’ll be a succession plan.” Ashura pointed out. “Maybe sooner than you think.”
He looked at her sharply. “Explain that, now.”
Ashura held her hands up placatingly. “It’s not coming from me. I don’t know where it started, but I’ve been hearing people talk. Some of those laws we were given, about killing other people, or dishonoring people… Moses did some of those. Didn’t he have to flee Egypt because of a Murder charge? The reprisals on the Hebrews for the murder of a foreman were pretty harsh, and it was after Moses was safely away…”
Tzioni deflated. “Ohad-Ittai told you.”
“I… heard him talking. He didn’t know I was in earshot.” Ashura nodded. “The reprisals after Moses killed that foreman is what led to his father being executed.”
“His father tried to fight back during the ‘investigation’.” Tzioni corrected. “The guards were picking random people and beating them until they said whatever the Egyptians wanted to hear, and Ohad-Ittai was just a kid. His father tried to organize a resistance, and the executions lasted for days.”
Ashura nodded. “I don’t think it started with Ohad-Ittai, but some people are wondering if Moses will end up being our leader once we get to wherever we’re going.”
“Moses is the only one among us that clearly has Jehovah's backing and support, to say nothing of hearing His voice. He’s our leader.”
“During the confrontation with Pharaoh, certainly.” The young woman nodded. “But he’s appointed a whole leadership hierarchy, yourself included, and we’re getting the laws of our new nation written down. Egypt proved that soldiers and warriors don’t make good civic leaders. Not if you don’t want slaves.”
Tzioni finally stopped walking, turning to look at Ashura. Seeing her earnest face, without challenge or ill-will, he sent a look up the Mountain, as if hoping Moses would appear to say something appropriate. “My dear girl…” He said finally. “I know you’re keeping your ears open, and seeing how far these questions are getting… But please let me know if anyone is pushing them.”
Ashura nodded seriously, pleased to have an assignment from one of the Elders. “Yessir. You can count on me.”
~/*\~ Mirah ~/*\~
“It’s been almost two years since we were last here.” Mirah commented, looking out at the view. “Is it me, or does it look different?”
Paige and Nate traded a smile as they unpacked the ladder from their truck. “Alright, Mirah, let’s see what you remember.”
Mirah grinned eagerly, and climbed the ladder; checking out the relay. “The… wiring is all intact, if a little dusty. I think the battery needs to be replaced, but the… ‘inverter’?” She glanced back at Nate to check she had the right word. “It looks good.”
“It all looks good.” Paige said, but she was looking out at the view. Stretched out below their view from the mountainside was their entire community, and surrounding areas. In the two or three years since they’d last made this trip, it had all changed. She pointed out landmarks. “I remember when that area was all paved over. The township was all concrete roads. You can really see the work that was done here.”
“The land shares are really interesting to view from this angle.” Nate commented. “Kenton’s design is getting popular. The fiefdoms are working out for all sorts of things.”
“Fiefdoms?” Mirah repeated the unfamiliar word. “Kenton calls it the ‘Freehold’.”
“Fiefdom is a word from the middle ages.” Paige translated. “It described a lord or a knight, and several servant households around it, supporting the lord in exchange for services and protections.” She looked at the land share she lived in, with the dozen or so plots of farmland, laid out like a wheel, each one bordering on the center, where the houses were closer together. Dead centre in the wheel was the shared warehouse, where stores and tools were kept, and meetings between the landowners held. “I suppose it must have looked something like that, with fences and barracks.”
“The pattern is being repeated for all sorts of things. Animal husbandry, manufacture, design…” Nate grinned. “And the Restoration.” He pointed down at the opposite side of the Freehold. “See those trees? You planted them. In another ten years, they’ll be full of animals and wild-grown edibles. You’ll be able to forage as much as you get from the crops.” He points the other way, where there were hundreds of saplings, planted in neat, orderly rows. “And those trees? My team planted those ones. They’ll be harvested soon, and shipped out to sites all over the Restoration Work.”
Mirah was gazing out at the view, pleased. Maybe even prideful. Her eyes kept flicking to the land she shared with Paige. Paige had chosen her land according to the deal with Kenton, and now owned a section of land where they grew wheat for their Freehold. Mirah hadn’t made her claim official yet, and wouldn’t until she was Baptized as a Christian herself. But she had spent more time in the fields than most of the others in their Freehold combined, and it was the first time she’d been able to build something for herself to enjoy.
The whole Congregation had turned out to build a modest, modern home for Paige at the head of her property. Mirah had taken the guest room, and furnished it as she wanted. They’d returned the favor for Nate, Kenton, Alvin, and several others that were now their permanent neighbors and fellow workers.
Still regarding the view, Mirah felt her heart swell inside her to think of it. I once took part in endless labor to build a Kingdom for people who considered me less than a pack animal. Now I work so much easier to feed my brothers and sisters. Sleeping in, having free time… Making the world beautiful and healthy. Thank you, Jehovah God. Thank you so much.
She didn’t notice Nate sidle over next to Paige. “You see what I see?”
Paige didn’t follow his gaze, but she nodded softly. “Grey hairs. She’s been getting them for a while now.”
“A year ago, we wouldn’t have known what that meant, but it’s a year later now.” Nate pointed out. “She’s still aging. One in a very small percentage of the adult world that can say that.”
Paige shook her head. “It’s amazing how fast we got used to the idea of growing younger as the norm, and getting older as something unusual.” She started to elaborate on other experiences, when she saw Nate’s face and knew he wasn’t going to be distracted from the point. “She got the Gold Letter for a daughter she never got a chance to meet. But the ‘arrival date’ is still years away. There’s a fear in her. Something more personal than being a slave.”
“Something keeping her from becoming a believer in the modern day?” Nate wondered, and pulled out his device. “If a man dies, can he live again? I will wait all the days of my compulsory service until my relief comes. You will call, and I will answer you. You will long for the work of your hands.”
“Job.” She nodded. “I know it well.”
“Job’s story happened before the Exodus, chronologically.” Nate said. “Moses recorded the early Bible, so Job didn’t have any of the scriptures; but he was clinging to the Resurrection hope. If he knew, I have to assume Mirah did too.”
“She did.” Paige nodded.
(Author’s Note: The 3/1 1986 WT Article: ‘Job’s Integrity - Why So Remarkable?’ says ‘When Job was tested, his knowledge of God and his purposes was limited, since no part of the Bible had yet been recorded. However, Job would have known something about Jehovah’s dealings with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph.’ As mentioned, Job spoke of the Resurrection. It stands to reason that it has always been part of Jehovah’s promises for the future, though where this was first suggested is less clear.)
Nate lowered his voice. “I’ve gotten the Gold Letter.”
Paige looked at him sharply. “Your mom?”
“She’ll be back in four days.”
Paige was hugging him tightly before he finished saying the words. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? This is wonderful news!”
“It is.” Nate let out a breath. “My mother died believing that I only came back to the meetings because I was humoring her while she was sick. When she sees me again, she’s going to be surprised, and thrilled… but her first question will be about my father and brother. Even if she likely knows the answer. It’s going to be a wonderful, tearful, heartbreaking reunion.”
“Reunions are what’s scaring Mirah, too.” Paige lowered her voice. “Mirah died in childbirth. Before her kid, before her husband, maybe other family members… And given how close she was to Moses’ return, she likely knows that her generation; the people she knows… Not all good news, for her generation, was it?”
Nate realized instantly. “She’s surely figured that out, but she doesn’t know about her own family. Not for sure. Not until they either come back… or don’t.”
Paige nodded, grim. “Your mother will have the same conversation waiting when she gets back.” She sighed finally. “But your mom will surely know that ‘Aging out’ won’t bring anyone back. Why doesn’t Mirah understand that?”
“Understanding it and accepting it are different things.” Nate told her. “I worry my mom might feel the same way.”
“Mirah actually has an appointment with the Judge this evening.” Paige offered. “Maybe having-”
“Lunch is ready.” Mirah called.
Nate and Paige jumped, startled out of their conversation. While they’d been talking, Mirah had managed to lay out a whole picnic, and set out her food, kept warm in sealed containers, stacked on top of each other and tied into place to stay warm and insulated. “It’s a recipe I’ve been working on for a while. Tilly’s been sending me suggestions in the mail. I hope you like it.”
~/*\~
“I thought my problem was that if my family came back, then they might reject the Truth, even after seeing miracles. After all, they’d apparently done it before.” Mirah said seriously. “But I’m still studying, and apparently, it’s a problem not limited to my generation.”
Rogelio nodded. “Count the ways.”
“My Generation nearly rejected Moses. Then they refused the Promised Land the first time they saw it.” Mirah recounted. “Later on, they wanted a king, like other nations; and then it seems like the fates flipped a coin to see if it would be good or terrible for them with every new Ruler. There weren’t two generations in a row that even listened to the only God that kept them safe and prosperous… And finally, after thousands of years of waiting for the Messiah, they rejected him too.”
“We have, admittedly, been using the history of your nation as a cautionary tale for over a century and counting.” Rogelio acknowledged.
“Not the legacy I would have wanted for my people.” Mirah agreed grimly.
Rogelio was one of the newly appointed Judges. As the community grew, the Elders were called on to mediate more and more matters that didn’t correspond to anything in the Congregation, or in Scripture.
The Conference had given the go ahead for the Judges to be appointed. They were part mediators, part teachers. They were versed in all parts of the Bible, including the new directions coming from the Conference, and chosen for having good judgment. When someone had a question, they quickly learned who to take it too. The Restoration work had its leaders, the Construction work had others. The Congregations and the Spiritual matters were administered by the Elders as always, and the Judges mediated all points in between; and answered questions about the Law for those who needed something clarified.
“Paige tells me that the one who delivered this Gold Letter is almost certainly an Angelic being, and I can’t disagree with that.” Mirah summed up, holding the letter in her hand tightly. “But at the same time… I just can’t shake the fear. There’s no more second chances after this one. My people shouldn’t have needed more proof than what they got.”
“Mirah, the point of the story is that Jehovah took them back. That’s not limited to your people.” Rogelio assured her. “In fact, it’s the story of the whole human race, come to that.” He opened his Bible. “Galatians 3:24 says ‘So the Law became our guardian leading to Christ, so that we might be declared righteous through faith’.” He looked up at her. “From the moment of its founding, and the first word of The Law, your nation was leading to Jesus.”
Mirah sank into herself a bit. “To be honest, I’m not thrilled about that idea. One man, as the center of the whole Bible story? A Divine-King? Isn’t that what Pharaoh was?”
Rogelio almost laughed at that idea. “It’s what he was pretending to be. Mirah, something I didn’t realize until I got here? So much of what the Old World did was to counterfeit what Jehovah had promised. When the world offered peace and happiness, it was always hollow and doomed, and corrupt.”
“We came out of the old world.” Mirah reminded him.
“Yeah, we did.” Rogelio nodded. “But the whole point of Jesus' time on earth was that he said and did what Jehovah would have done if He’d been there as flesh and blood Himself. He was willing to give his life in exchange for the same people who were killing him. He set the rules on how many times to forgive a wayward brother. Was it because he was naive, or easily fooled?”
“No, I guess not.” Mirah conceded that.
“Your time as a descendant of Abraham was leading to the days of The Law Covenant. The Law was a temporary measure until Christ arrived. His instructions to his followers were a temporary measure until this Thousand Year Kingdom. This Kingdom is a temporary measure leading us back to God; the way it used to be before sin was even a possibility.” Rogelio summed up. “The days when a nation could be led astray are over completely now.” He gave her a look. “Under the Law, under enslavement, under Christ… What’s the one thing that Jehovah always puts first in direction?”
“His people.” Mirah nodded. “Every Book of Law, every set of Commandments, it always began with the relationship between Jehovah and People.”
“As a people, we were always leading in this direction.” Rogelio told her kindly. “And it’s not even finished yet. In a thousand years, we all make one more pledge, showing where our loyalties lie. That’s coming. It can’t be avoided. There was no way to avoid the tenth plague, or A-Day, or the end of the Thousand Years. Not without making a choice.”
~/*\~ Alvin ~/*\~
Their community had grown enough that they needed a proper Meeting Hall, rather than gathering people around a speaker. Alvin was going over his notes for an upcoming talk, when the door swung open quickly.
“I want to talk about Kenton.” Russel said seriously as he came in. “It’s fast approaching the point where we should make him an Elder.”
“What?” Alvin laughed. “He’s nowhere near experienced enough. He was baptized during the ‘Secure In Peace’ Campaign.”
“So were half a dozen others in our extended congregation. They all made it.”
“And I’m happy for them, but we’re not making any of them Elders.” Alvin pointed out. “What’s brought this on?”
“His expertise.” Russel explained. “It’s drawing a lot of attention, because he knows how things work. The time of miraculous delivery of food and water is passing. He knew more about city farming, infrastructure, and repair than most of us put together. The Brothers are putting together a guidebook on how to get things running until we can replace them, and he already knew 90% of it. He was more ready for a New World than we were.”
“From a physical standpoint, sure. And it’s all useful information at the moment, but…” Alvin shook his head. “Being an Elder is a Spiritual position of authority. It has very clear scriptural qualifications. I don’t see where his experience qualifies him for that.”
Russel looked down. “People are asking for his advice, on more than just the… practicalities. Our people have had questions, and some of them we don’t have answers for yet. If he can provide them with some useful advice-”
“He’s becoming a natural leader.” Alvin frowned. “Is he claiming to speak for the congregation? Or for the body of Elders? Or for God, come to that? Is he taking charge of studies or something?”
“Well, no. But that’s surely coming.” Russel stammered.
“Why?” Alvin countered. “People know Elders weren’t trained in how to build a society. The videos from the conventions had people building homes, but nobody ever filmed the digging of septic tanks, or sewer lines. We have a little bit of experience in hall maintenance, and a few Elders who have been on building committees in the past.” Alvin spread his hands wide. “It doesn’t make us city fathers. If Kenton has answers we don’t, what’s the problem? Judges are a new ‘post’ too. We can discuss making Kenton an MS for now, if he wants advancement. Barring that, we can make an announcement at the meeting that any questions on non-Spiritual matters should go to someone qualified. He’d be at the top of the list.”
Russel blinked. “Right. That’ll work.”
Alvin’s head tilted. “And you knew that an hour ago, so what’s the real question?”
Russel sighed. “There’s so much going on that we didn’t expect. I fear we may not be able to keep up with it all. The Conference gave us universal rules, standard measurements, and lines of communication. But the things we don’t know yet are…” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to say it exactly, but Paradise is so many things to so many people. Some of which we were waiting for. Some things we never would have expected. I don’t want ‘lines of authority’ being muddled, because historically, that has ended badly for followers of Jehovah.” He let out a breath. “What if there’s something we don’t know about yet? Something that crosses into forbidden territory?”
“There was a time when Witnesses smoked, or celebrated holidays with Pagan origins. Then we learned, we changed, and things got better.”
“I know. I’ve given Public Talks on that subject.” Russel admitted. “But what if the rules are different now? Everything else is.”
“There are two kinds of law books.” Alvin told him with a wry smile. “The ones where you need a reason to allow something, and where you need a reason to forbid something. Jehovah has only ever forbidden us from doing certain things for particular reasons. Historically, there are some things He allowed, but counseled against. But a surprising amount of what goes on in our lives He left entirely up to us. He taught us principles, not technicalities.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Russel sighed. “I remember every time we got a new member or two to the Governing Body, we suddenly had a different perspective, and a clarification came later. Like when we decided not to record hours and placements. Or when they clarified the position on growing beards.”
“Oh, mercy.” Alvin scoffed. “I remember the day after that announcement.”
“The most heated argument my family ever had.” Russel agreed. “Of all things, it was about facial hair, culture, cleanliness, and moral standards… You’d think they’d started a revolution, the way my sister reacted.”
Alvin grinned. “Anyway. This is just more of the same. Point to the scripture that says Kenton has done something inappropriate.”
“There isn’t one, of course.” Russel let out a breath. “He’s taking a leadership role, by virtue of what he knows that we don’t. He’s making plans for the future that involve several people. I worry that people are agreeing without fully understanding the situation.”
“We don’t know that the Congregation Leadership and the Community Leadership are going to be the same thing. That’s the sort of question being covered in the new Conventions.” Alvin summed up. “We never had to make an MS for reasons outside the smooth running of our spiritual priorities, because that was our only responsibility, until the System Collapsed. Get everyone on the same page, make sure the Elders understand what Kenton is organizing, and why. Let’s not get hung up on labels until we know what’s going to happen. For all we know, he’s ahead of the curve. For all we know, God already has something better planned.”
Russel nodded, a little embarrassed. “Did I just run in here like a crazy person for no real reason?”
Alvin laughed. “Well, the way I see it: A lot of things are going to take us by surprise. And I don’t mean the wildcards. Who knows what God always intended for Paradise? There’ll be a thousand things that simply haven't been mentioned before. Like you said: Paradise is already so many things.” He reasoned. “More than that: What things are we certain of now that we’ve actually gotten flat out wrong?”
~/*\~ Tzioni ~/*\~
Weeks passed, and Moses had not returned.
Nobody knew how it started out, but the sentiments were spreading. Those that supported Moses as God’s only spokesman were squarely in the majority, but Moses was gone, and the people still had questions. More questions every day, and the more they asked each other, the more worried they got.
Ohad-Ittai was one of many men who were known and respected within his own Tribe. During their years of slavery, he had gone out of his way to protect others, often taking the burdens and the beatings on himself; giving away his rations to those who couldn’t work. For a slave, that was the most you could do for another; and it meant the world.
There were many such men, and many of the people in camp were turning to them for advice. Ohad-Ittai did his best to keep everyone calm, but he could tell they were looking for leadership.
And Moses still didn’t return.
~/*\~
“I don’t understand this.” Tzioni breathed, as Ashura reported everything that was happening to his people.
Ashura held up her hands. “Just reporting the facts, sir.”
“I don’t doubt them, dear.” He assured her. “I just don’t understand how this is happening. How are people pulling away from Jehovah so easily? He made it clear who his appointed spokesman was, and-”
“And who is Jehovah?” A voice said grandly.
They both turned, and saw a man in fine robes, with a purple sash, standing in front of a donkey-pulled cart, laden with goods.
Tzioni frowned. “I don’t know you.”
“We haven’t spoken before, friend. But I joined your march shortly after you left Egypt.” The Merchant gestured at his signs of obvious wealth, as well as the goods on his cart. “I am a free man myself, and have no qualms with supplying customers in good faith. Hebrew, Egyptian, free man, or slave. I have set my own rules for longer than I care to admit.” He smiled grandly, lowering his voice a little. “I’ve had the time to talk with several of your people. And they all have the same problem: They don’t know what their leader looks like.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve heard that when Moses came to you and the other Elders, he told you that Jehovah had sent him. A Name that means ‘He Causes To Become’.” The Merchant explained. “Powerful name. Versatile. But it’s hard to picture. Look around your encampment. When these people think of Jehovah they don’t know whether to picture a pillar of fire, or a more nebulous cloud. Or a river turned to blood, or a bowl of Manna, or a storm of burning hail.” He spread his hands wide, as if in supplication. “Millions of people, and all with a different idea of what they’re praying to.”
“He’s right.” Ashura said honestly. “In Egypt we always knew which direction to face, and what we were sending our prayers to. It was easy to pray when we knew who was receiving them.”
“Comparing Jehovah to Egyptian gods never worked out well for your people, my dear.” Tzioni warned. But it was clear a seed had been planted. “I need to think about this…”
~/*\~
Twenty minutes later, he was speaking quietly with Satau.
“These factions that are dividing up the camp have been building since we left Egypt.” Satau said with certainty. “In fact, from what Leahe tells me, it was long before that.”
“Ohad-Ittai was a natural leader for many of our people. He kept going out of his way to help the weaker ones, even taking on punishments that would have broken the ones they were meant for.” Tzioni admitted. “But things have changed, surely…”
“Yes, they have.” Satau said honestly. “You no longer have the whip to unite you against your common oppressors. Without Egypt to force you all onto the same side, your singular nation is splitting up.”
Tzioni was flustered, for the first time since meeting the Egyptian, he was unable to account for something, when the former Acolyte was. “I admit the march hasn’t been what most people expected, but we’re all Jehovah’s people…”
“Twelve Tribes. Multiple Generations. Hundreds of Elders. Dozens of ‘views’ on the God they worship. A million different wishes for what to do with newfound freedoms.” Satau started counting on his fingers.
“But only one God.” Tzioni insisted.
Satau shook his head. “Only one Moses.” He countered. “I’ve seen this before. When Pharaoh walked into a room, every eye was on him. The minute he left, the Court turned inward and started making their own plans, agreeing on their own deals, figuring out how best to ‘interpret’ his orders in a way that benefited them.”
“We aren’t the Royal Court of Egypt.”
“You’re in the opening days of your new nation. Self-determining men and women for the first time.” Satau countered. “Moses should have given you the Law right away. Even so, it doesn’t tell people what to do, only how to do it safely. For weeks, people have been asking each other the question of what they want to do with their lives, and they don’t have a clue. Choosing anything has simply never been a possibility before. All of them had wildly different ideas on what ‘freedom’ meant. None of this is what they were expecting, and it’s starting to show.”
And despite himself, Tzioni had to agree with that. “You think our people have just replaced Pharaoh with Moses?”
“No. They hated Pharaoh. They’ve replaced Jehovah with Moses.” Satau explained. “And why shouldn’t they? Whenever a Plague was coming, it was Moses who told them what to expect. When the water ran out, it was Moses that people came to. When the food ran out, it was Moses who told us when the Manna would arrive. And it was Moses who gave us the Law. He even has a High Priest to issue proclamations on his behalf. But now that he’s gone, everyone wants to make changes to the rules, and the camp. Even if only little ones. The people are testing their new freedoms, seeing what they can do. And the first thing Moses did after he gave us the Law? He left. He went back up the mountain.”
Tzioni couldn’t help but go exactly where Satau was leading him. “And with him gone, the factions are free to act on their own.”
Satau nodded. “My father always knew the hardest part of his job was to have the Priesthood present a united front before Pharaoh. But it was the only way to make sure he actually listened.”
Tzioni frowned. “I don’t know if any of us here have half the… gravitas that’s needed to replace Moses, even for a little while.”
How long will you wait? Satau felt the thought come to him from somewhere, and he didn’t quite recognize where it came from, but it came out of his mouth before he stopped himself. “Moses has been gone for weeks. If he took food and water up there, it surely ran out ages ago. Maybe this is the plan. We got the Law, we still have Jehovah, and Moses has… vanished. Maybe this was always the idea. To stop us from lauding the man himself for too long.”
“You think he slipped away and isn’t coming back?” Tzioni felt a thrill of horror go through him, but he swiftly shook his head. “No. Can’t be. His wife and son are still here in the camp.”
Satau shrugged. “He went up a forbidden mountain alone over a month ago. He’s eighty years old…”
“He’ll make it back.” Tzioni said stubbornly. “Our job is to keep everything together until he does; and I don’t think we’re going to make it.” He hesitated. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but how did your father keep so many factions in line?”
Satau nearly swallowed his tongue. He hadn’t even realized the conversation was going there, but this was it. This was his moment. The moment where he had something to offer. A perspective, a service, something he could give the assembly that nobody else could. “Really?”
Tzioni nodded. “I wasn’t there, obviously. How did you keep such disparate factions in line when the King was out of the room?”
~/*\~
“No!” The Boy shouted.
“Yes.” The Merchant grinned, barely able to restrain his glee.
“No, please!”
“Hahaha! Beg me again, I like that!”
~/*\~
“Finally! Something I know how to do!” Satau nearly wept, joyful. “I finally understand what I have to offer, what I bring to this assembly. The service I can perform in the name of Jehovah!” He wiped his eyes. “I finally understand my purpose.”
~/*\~
When they went to Aaron, they weren’t the first. Others had made the same connections that Satau and Tzioni had, recognizing that Moses had become their symbol of Jehovah’s leadership and hope. With him long gone, they needed something new. The Pillar of Fire and Smoke was a powerful symbol of God, but it kept changing. Nobody could agree if God was fire or smoke. Or light, or deep darkness that could blind for three days. Or a river of blood. Or a swarm of locusts that could darken the sky. Or a layer of edible honey-flakes that covered the ground every morning.
God was too many things for them to imagine.
Moses was a man. He was a proclaimer. A general. A shepherd. A prophet. But all those things were still a man. Easy to picture. Easy to relate to. Easy to see.
“And now he has left us.” Tzioni summed up to Aaron. “With him gone, everyone’s reaching for their own ‘ideal’ to make Jehovah someone we can relate to. The ones that are turning to the Fire are not agreeing with the ones who think manna is the most important part… The ones that can’t stop thinking about the Red Sea standing on end are pulling away from the ones that say our own Firstborn are at stake with every voice of disagreement…”
Aaron squeezed his eyes shut, covering his ears. “I know! I know!”
“We’ve gained our independence, Aaron. Now we have to know what to do with it. You’re the most likely leader we have after-”
“Moses will be back. I know where you’re going with this.” Aaron said flatly, glaring at Satau. “And I can’t believe it. You’re really going to make an idol?”
“No.” Satau said seriously. “If I do it, then it’s just an Egyptian High Priest-in-training trying to turn a new nation into Egypt again. It has to be you.”
Aaron’s eyes flashed. “No. I refuse. The first thing He said; the very First Law He Gave Us, was to not do exactly what you’re asking me to do.”
“You’re the only one, other than Moses, that everyone in Israel respects equally, Aaron.” Tzioni said honestly. “If you say ‘no’, then it won’t happen. But that means you have to take charge, and keep all these people united behind you, as they were behind him.”
“Moses will be back soon.” Aaron insisted.
“And when he gets here, this assembly will be in five different camps, with five different ideas of what to do next.” Tzioni said seriously. “We need something that unites them all. Something that can bring order to the chaos. Something that can fit in their brains and do what Egypt did: Keep us all on the same side.”
Aaron turned away from them, and found more people coming from the other side. And still more on the way from another direction. He was surrounded.
Tzioni came up beside him. “Jehovah will surely forgive us if we are wrong. But what’s more important right now? Getting everything right from the first day, or just making it to day two?”
“Day two.” Aaron scorned. “How long have you been worshiping Jehovah, Tzioni?”
“Not mine. Yours.” Tzioni corrected him. “Doing nothing is a choice too. Like it or not, this is your first decision as leader of our nation. Make it fast, or we may not have a nation left.”
~/*\~
There were more that agreed than anyone expected. Even Aaron had to take the crowd seriously eventually. Satau told him what was required, and Aaron ordered that they give over their earrings and necklaces. The precious stones and metals weren’t theirs. They’d been taken as plunder from the Egyptians on their way out.
They had craftsmen. Enough to talk Aaron through the parts he hadn’t known already. All they had to agree on was the image itself.
In Egypt, the shape of the King of the Gods was the Apis Bull. A powerful animal with horns that held the sun between them. Even the Hebrews, who worshiped their own God, recognized the Apis Bull instantly. That image was everywhere in Egypt, and despite their lowly station, the Hebrews had been everywhere. Working in every industry and business, carrying burdens through every street, doing the distasteful work in every prosperous household and temple. They all knew the image of the Apis Bull.
Satau didn’t tell him what to make. He didn’t know who suggested it first.
The idol was amateurish in construction, but once it was made by Aaron, those that had worked in the temples (both former acolyte and former slave alike) came hurrying to clean it up, put the finishing touches on it, sharpening the details, refining the shape, polishing the gold.
It was a Calf, made of gold. Not a mighty, full-grown bull, as in Egypt. A newborn one. Innocent, full of growth and potential. Small enough to be lifted up and carried, large enough to be seen and celebrated by everyone.
~/*\~ Nate ~/*\~
Nate checked the Gold Letter again, though he’d long memorized it. The location identified was one of the temporary homes they’d built; and Nate made an effort to decorate it the way her old home had been. He’d searched the bazaar for two days, trying to remember the home he’d grown up in. It felt like a million years ago.
Right on time, there was the sound of someone breathing in and out at the same time, and Martine was suddenly sitting on the couch. She took in a deep breath, opening her eyes, putting a hand to her chest in sudden surprise. “It doesn’t hurt.” She told her son automatically when she saw him. “First time it doesn’t…” She blinked, feeling the chair she was sitting in. “D-Did I fall asleep?”
“You could say that.” Nate’s voice wobbled, before he lunged forward, tears rolling down his face without shame as he hugged her tightly. “Hi, mom. Welcome back.”
~/*\~
Outside the house, there were people gathering. The protocols for welcoming someone back were still being worked out, and everyone had an opinion. Some thought that having everyone gathered was a joyful welcome, others thought that having a crowd surrounding people on their arrival would be too much, too soon.
“Nate set the rules for his mother’s ‘Funeral’.” Paige said when Mirah expressed concern about how many people were around. “He’s her ‘next of kin’, after all. He was convinced that once she came back, her first question would be about all the people she knew, and who else was safe. And since he can’t give good news about his brother and father, he figures her friends from the Congregation is the best thing he can provide.”
“I heard some people talking before, about how much time it took to gather everyone who wanted to come in person.” Mirah agreed. “The last of them arrived this morning. The Gold Letter timed this reunion down to the hour.”
“The same thing is being repeated back in our Congregation at home.” A familiar voice reported, and Paige turned immediately.
(Author’s Note: There’s nothing in the Bible to describe how the Resurrections will be arranged or commemorated. This is all my invention. In my books, there have been two methods for ‘Returnings’. Most of them are ‘one on one’, in private. One or two of them were larger events, to commemorate the life achievements of brothers. The difference was that the larger ‘funerals’ were for modern brothers with plenty of contemporaries already in Paradise. Mirah had none, so there was only Paige to meet her. Martine was a character with several points of contact in the series, so she gets the Welcoming Party. But this is all my own invention.
In all honesty, I’ve broken my own former rules about the order of the Resurrection with Mirah. Since it was all my own speculation, that’s okay; but the main reason I did it was because the point of this story is to compare the first days of freedom for Israel with the first days of Paradise for the modern day.)
“Del!” Paige beamed. “You came back for the Funeral?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. We were there for her last one, after all.” Del hugged her in greeting. “We’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” He immediately turned to the woman beside him, and made introductions. “Paige, this is my wife, Eleanor. El, this is Paige. One of the ones I told you about, from That Day.”
Paige beamed, thrilled to finally meet her. “Eleanor? Oh, this is a big reunion for you too, isn’t it?”
“So big.” Eleanor nodded, eyes bright. “I’ve waited years for this.”
Paige noticed Mirah’s questioning look, and made a quick explanation. “For the last Century, followers of Jehovah were organized as a ministry. We got more members via teaching people in the world than we did from our own children. Hundreds of thousands came in from other religions every year. The woman being Returned today? Nate’s mother. She brought Eleanor into the Truth.”
“Taught me everything I needed to know about God.” Eleanor reported dutifully. “And I taught Del, and we both taught our son.” She looked back towards Nate’s house. “We know that we were drawn by Jehovah, of course. But it’s hard not to think of Martine as the reason my family is here today.”
“When she got sick, we talked to her on the phone, but…” Del sighed. “When it got bad, she didn’t let on, and we never did get a chance to say goodbye.”
Mirah looked back at the house herself. “Except it wasn’t really goodbye. She’s in there right now, isn’t she?”
Eleanor burst into tears. Almost instantly she turned to her husband, who was already holding out a handkerchief. From Del’s expression, Paige got the sense this had been happening a lot. “I didn’t cry like this when she died.” Eleanor sniffed with a wry grin, getting herself under control. “She was the one that taught me that we’d see each other again.”
A teenage boy came over to Eleanor and immediately wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay, mom. She’s going to be thrilled to see you again.”
“Equally thrilled to see you, Jacen.” Del told his son. “The last time you were in a room with Martine was the night you were born.”
Mirah glanced at Paige, who was smiling as sincerely as anyone, but her enthusiasm was muted compared to the others. “How are you holding up?”
Paige shook her head. “Today isn’t about me. I’m jealous, of course, but Nate is one of my best friends in the world, and I’m so happy for him I can feel my heart aching right now.”
And then those around them started applauding. Paige turned to see the door open, and Nate led his mother out into the light by hand. The older woman looked awestruck, head turning constantly, trying to take in everything and everyone at once.
Exactly the way I did when I was first brought back. Mirah thought to herself.
~/*\~
After the initial welcoming cheer, and everyone hurrying to embrace the Returnee, Alvin got things organized. It was like an awards dinner, with everyone seated, and the guest of honor in the middle of the front row, while people took turns telling stories, and sharing why Martine meant so much to them.
Eventually, the ceremony wound down, and most of those in attendance made their goodbyes, leaving just the closest circle of Martine, Nate, Eleanor, Del, and Jacen. Mirah had paid her respects, though she’d never met Martine before, and Paige was about to walk her home when Martine asked to speak with her before she went.
While her son and former students returned to the house to lay out a private meal, Paige paused at the front doorstep for a moment, pulling in a shaky breath. The emotions had run deep all day, and just because it was joyful didn’t make the tears flow any slower; and she was still shaky from the feelings running through them all.
“Feels like you’ve run a marathon, doesn’t it?” Martine said warmly, coming outside to join her, where they could speak privately.
“Today isn’t about me.” Paige demurred.
“No, I suppose not.” Martine agreed, settling beside her on the front step. “But I got all my grief out when I realized I was going to die soon. All that was left was good things today.”
Paige nodded. Martine was family to a lot of the people she knew, but the two of them hadn’t met; and the younger woman had no idea what to say to her.
“I died, certain that I’d never see my family again.” Martine said quietly. “Nate came with me to meetings when I got sick, but I thought that was out of obligation, more than anything else. He and his brother leaving the Truth was a raw nerve for much of his life, and we very deliberately didn’t speak of it when he took me in to look after me. I couldn’t ‘guilt’ him into coming back to meetings from beyond the grave. That’s not how faith works.” She blinked back the emotion. “I opened my eyes, and he was there. He was the only one in the family there to meet me, and I knew almost immediately what it meant.”
Paige nodded.
“I had questions, as you can imagine. Before we came out, I asked him all about That Day. My son, going through the biggest, hardest challenge in world history, while grieving his whole family.” She reached out and squeezed Paige’s hand. “You were there with him.”
“So was-”
“Yeah, but I know Alvin and Del. Probably better than you did, before that whole thing happened.” Martine nodded. “One thing I’ve learned from today: The relationships we make in the truth are forever. You met Del’s wife?”
“This afternoon.” Paige nodded.
“Last time I was in a room with both of them, Jacen was a baby. Today he’s telling me about how someone becomes a Servant in a world with no ministry service. He’s almost as tall as me. For me, that was a short nap. And yet Del and Eleanor look younger and healthier than I’ve ever seen them.”
Paige felt the laugh come bubbling out of her. “Time’s a tricky thing to figure out these days, huh?”
Martine nodded, giving her an appraising look again. “You guys went through A-Day together. Del wasn’t even in your Cong, and went home immediately after, but you stuck around. I imagine you and my son are going to be close forever.”
Paige flushed. “I have no plans to leave. We’re neighbours now, too. Part of a landshare… Yeah.”
Martine looked her straight in the face. “So the first thing I want to say is ‘thank you’. You were there for my son in trying times. From what I hear, you’ve been there for him since, too.”
Paige blushed brighter. “We… had the distinction of being people with fewer reunions ahead than most.”
Martine nodded. “I don’t think that’s as small a club as you think it is.” She reminded Paige. “I had to get used to the idea of my family rejecting the Truth a long time ago, and now it turns out at least one of them is here, forever. That’s a blessing I never expected. So already, this world is far, far more than I ever imagined.”
Paige nodded, feeling that one in her bones. “I'm very happy for you, sister.”
“And I’m very grateful to you.” Martine said.
~/*\~
There were less than two months left until the Convention. With the whole world attending, there were preparations to be made. Gone were the days when a convention had to fit around the schedules of an unbelieving world. Technology had not yet been restored enough that everyone could view the program from home, and the world wasn’t quite populated enough that they needed to hold multiple convention programs to accommodate everyone. So it seemed that almost everyone in the world was going to be present for the event.
Paige and Mirah were part of the team laying out extra seating. Mirah looked, and could see brothers setting up amplifiers. “Given the time difference around the world, they’ll have some talks recorded by the ‘leadership’. Other talks will be handled locally.” Paige told her friend. “But for a full day and night, the ‘teaching’, whatever it is this time, will be declared somewhere in the world, non stop.”
Mirah looked around the open plain. “Chairs. I wonder how many people would be more comfortable reclining on the grass, the way we did in my time.”
“If I had a chance to lay out on a thick blanket, I’d fall asleep.” Paige returned. “Not what we’re going for at a convention.”
Mirah smiled, but she had other things on her mind. “Is it my imagination, or are people looking at us?”
“At you, actually.” Paige nodded, not looking up from her task. “I was wondering when you’d notice. It’s been happening for weeks.”
“Why?” Mirah asked, nervous.
“Because you’re aging.” Paige said plainly. “None of us were sure what that meant at first. Eternal youth was one of the things we were looking forward to most. And when you first came back, your face got far more youthful as you got used to a body without scars and injured muscles, considering you were returned from a life as a slave.”
“Walk around bowed for long enough you just tend to stay that way.” Mirah conceded. “It took me a while to notice I didn’t ache anymore.”
“So we figured you were like everyone else. Brought back from the dead, and enjoying returned youth and life and vitality.” Paige nodded. “But you were the first one from the Pre-Christian era that anyone in this part of the world had met; and in recent months you’ve started to show grey hairs…” She winced. “I’m sorry to be so pointed about it, but… Losing speed, poorer health? All the things we equate with old age are gone now. Some of the kids who survived The Day without being believers had to deal with a lot of hard feelings before they sorted themselves out…”
“What does it mean, that… I’m the only one getting older?” Mirah said carefully.
“There have been some speculations about that. It’s not a problem limited to you alone, but it’s a minority. In fact, we’ll probably hear it talked about at the next convention-”
“In two months.” Mirah put in before she could go any further. “If you know why, speak.”
Paige sighed. “Belief isn’t acceptance. Being a servant of Jehovah means acknowledging that your life belongs to Him, and you trust that serving Him is the best way to live. It’s more than just being aware that He’s real. Demons had that.”
“I have been a follower of Jehovah since the days of the Pharaohs.”
“But things have changed since then.” Paige pointed out. “The rules have changed. The organization has changed. It’s evolved. It’s risen from a family line to a Kingdom. A Kingdom over all the Earth and Heavens; with an appointed King that you’ve never…” Paige trailed off as she noticed Mirah tearing up.
“I have spent years trying to reconcile The Law with the end of the Law.” Mirah said seriously. “In my life, the laws never changed once. Not for me, not for any of my kin. Anyone who even suggested a change was beaten to death, publically, so that we all knew better next time.” She gestured at Paige’s device. “I was raised on stories of The Promise, a day when God would send a champion to overturn all evil. But it took thousands of years to play out. And in that time, God’s punishments came for my people often, sometimes when they disobeyed; sometimes when they moved away from The Plan…”
Paige’s head tilted. “Are you afraid of God?”
“I suppose I have more reason to fear any kind of authority than any follower of Jehovah until your generation. I’ve only ever known a cruel, abusive kind of leadership.” She gestured at the Device again, as if to take in the whole Bible history. “Jehovah always took my people back, over and over again. Something I couldn’t say about any other ruler… But that’s kind of my point. Jehovah has spent thousands of years moving us to this point. If we don’t embrace the new world completely… This is the last chance. For everyone. After thousands of years of giving us one chance after another, this is our very last chance.”
Paige let out a breath harshly. “Mirah, you’re my friend, and I love you. But I have to say, on this subject? The ‘obstinance’ of your people is in you too.”
“I know.” Mirah admitted, not looking at her. “It’s not because I don’t believe. It’s not because I don’t love Jehovah… It’s because I can’t shed the fear. I ate and drank and breathed fear for so long. It didn’t break me. It made me stronger. Being hard, being resistant inside is how I survived.”
“Now it’s holding you back.” Paige said plainly.
“I know.” Mirah admitted. “But I don’t know how to just… not be hard like that.”
Paige lowered her voice. “You’re braver than I ever was.” She said honestly. “I was too scared to want kids, given my situation. Cost of living, the nearness of That Day…”
“Doesn’t feel like the same thing.” Mirah admitted. “In this world… I don't understand anything. I know I’m learning, but I have to learn all of it. And every day I find something else that the people I love will have trouble with. Things like Gentiles being our Elders, or our Judges. Things like our wise men being on the far side of the world, giving their insights over a screen. Things like the whole world working to break down and rebuild. Things like women being in charge of industry and technology. Music being recorded, rather than performed… And that’s not even getting near the things that I didn’t know about yet. Thousands of years of the law of Moses, and suddenly that’s overruled for more than two thousand years?” Mirah wiped her eyes, one hand going to her pocket, where the Gold Letter lived constantly, always on her person. “What happens if I can’t make the adjustment? What happens if my daughter can’t make the adjustment? My husband? My father? My mother? What if things have… changed too much?”
Paige stared at her. “Would it surprise you to learn that I’ve had this problem since the day I learned Jehovah’s name?”
Mirah froze. “What?”
Paige nodded. “I became a believer when I was already an adult. My husband never agreed, but I studied, and I searched, and I couldn’t fault the reasoning of the Witnesses, or the Scriptures. So when they told me That Day was coming, I believed them. But I never knew what it would look like. I never knew what it would mean for me, or how I would react when it came. I was walking on Faith for years before the storm finally hit. Before it hit, I wondered if I could ever hold on against all the world’s stresses, and when the storm finally broke on the world, I wondered if I’d ‘done enough’ or could ‘make it through’.”
“I’ve read the stories of the Plagues, and I have to admit, I would have thought the same.” Mirah admitted.
“In fact, now that I think of it, the Apostasy was an ongoing problem for the entire Bible record, and the Christian Era.” Paige commented, tapping at her device. “It’s been a while, but let me see if I can find… Yeah, here it is.”
Mirah looked. On Paige’s device was a recorded talk. The speaker was one she recognized from several Convention parts. For this talk, he was speaking in front of a small group, into a more elaborate microphone. “When Israel responded to their deliverance with a Golden Calf, Moses himself acknowledged that the problem was how stubborn and rebellious his people were. When the Apostles saw their time ending, they knew and prophesied that apostasy would quickly take over the early Christians. But nowhere in the Bible were we warned that it would happen immediately after That Day. Indeed, the only promises about this time are positive.”
Mirah gestured for her to stop the recording. “They… talked about that so soon after?” She murmured. “I’ve noticed that talks, and convention programs reflect the needs of the people as they go. Was there a widespread concern about this?”
“There was a concern that the first days in Paradise might be like the first days after the Exodus. All of us were free for the first time, with no option but to walk; and no real experience in what would happen when we got to wherever we were going.” Paige gave her a look. “Know what I mean?”
“I wasn’t there for the Exodus.”
“But your first days after your Resurrection? Any of that sound familiar?”
Mirah hesitated, before nodding. “Well, okay. But everything else-”
“Everything else too.” Paige jumped in ahead of her. “I grew up in a world where everything happened in the background. It was a system so powerful that none of us knew how to live without it. Being a Witness meant trusting that Jehovah would save us before we starved, because The System fell apart. No food, no lights, no water… And then it was over, and God was providing food for us, meal by meal. The fuel tanks never ran dry, the water canteens never went empty. It stayed like that until we put things back together. You were returned early, sister. You saw some of it: None of us knew what we were doing. The world we came from was gone, and something new had to be built, and it wasn’t what we thought it would be. Still isn’t, in fact.”
“You just said that the things you were looking forward to most-”
“Have little to do with the day-to-day.” Paige nodded. “Everyone looks forward to perfect health and eternal life, but there’s nothing in Scripture about where we get furnishings for our house. Or materials like lumber and concrete, come to that. You were told of the Promise made after Eden, but nobody told you the Bible would be printed in other languages, or that you’d have cars of your own. It may yet be commanded that we stick to low-tech lifestyles for eternity.” She hefted her device to make the point. “When I was sitting in Alvin’s house, listening to our enemies gather outside, I clung to the promise that I would live, and have a safe home again. Nothing in the Bible spoke of what my house would look like, or where I’d find furniture.” She held out a hand to Mirah. “Or who my friends would be.”
Mirah took that in slowly, and finally nodded. “The Angel Boy was right. Finding these things, planning our days, building relationships… These things are the point of having free will. It’s not about being rich, or powerful. It’s about being alive.”
“You’re afraid of making the wrong choices.” Paige nodded. “And for a while, I was too. When I first realized that I had no idea what Paradise really entailed, part of me was worried that if I wasn’t happy enough with what I already had, maybe there’d be a smiting coming.”
Mirah didn’t laugh. She’d lived with that fear most of her life, though from human rulers. “And now?”
“Now, it’s been some years, and I realized that I can never know what to expect.” Paige admitted. “Because who knows what the world will look like a thousand years later? Or ten thousand? Or a million?” She shivered. “The sheer number of options we have, now that hunger and homelessness aren’t possible?”
“Effectively infinite.” Mirah nodded.
Paige took a lock of Mirah’s silvering hair between her fingers gently. “Just as it should be. It’s never been possible before, but this is the way it’s meant to be. Infinite life, infinite interests to explore.” She said softly. “You’re right: Things have changed for us. But that’s been true of all human history. And everyone who comes back will have the same problem for a while. The Law isn’t about avoiding execution, it’s about living the best life. And that has always been… subjective. So that’s up to us. We don’t have to know where we’ll spend our lives anymore.”
Mirah was tearing up. “My whole life, I only ever had one choice of what to do, and only death as an alternative.”
“Well, I can’t speak to life as a slave.” Paige admitted. “But I do know what it’s like to have no options but to work if you want to live. Funny thing, but even the wealthiest people in history have had the same… ‘bondage’. Death was the only certainty in the Old Days. When you got older, you started losing friends, relatives… Loss was an inevitable result of surviving a little longer.” Paige was tearing up too. “I lost people on A-Day. But the first thing God did when He took over was to say ‘no more loss’ and ‘no more death’.” Her voice was shaky, but getting stronger. “And I’ve seen people from all over the world now. All of them servants of Jehovah. And I’ve met people from across centuries of time. And nobody, NOBODY who lived by God’s Laws was miserable as a result of it. I’m not.” She paused suddenly, one hand going over her mouth automatically. “I’m really not.”
Mirah blinked at her tone. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”
“It is.” Paige nodded compulsively. “When The Day ended, and I realized I was the only one in my family left, I was scared I’d never really be joyful again. And I was scared that God would be angry at me for that, given what He’d done for us already. But I’m not miserable anymore.” She almost laughed. “I made every effort to keep up my spiritual routine, keep up my service, do everything I could, and I figured being happy would come later, like a reward, or something.”
“And?” Mirah was more interested in this than she’d been in anything else. She’d never had a joyful reward for a lifetime of hard work at other people's command.
Paige sniffed. “The purpose of life was never to work, until it ends. I think back on the most joyful moments of my time in Paradise, and a lot of them involve you.”
Mirah flushed. “That’s very nice of you, but I know-”
“When we started setting up the house, and you were bouncing off the walls with excitement because you’d never gotten a chance to do that before? When you learned how to read, and gave your first answer at the meeting without testing it out on me first? When we went back to the early grounds we worked on the Restoration and saw how healthy they were, what had grown from where we’d planted it.” She chuckled a bit. “Pretty much every time we brought in a harvest, or saw another one starting to sprout. Every time I learn a new skill, or…” She trailed off. “After a lifetime of working desperately hard, just to keep breathing; I think we’ve both found a life where being happy isn’t a reward for work, but the result of it.”
There was a moment as they both considered the new idea. They’d been living it, but never really thought about it as it happened.
“Then… maybe it’s okay that this world isn’t exactly what we expected.” Mirah said slowly, as though the idea was trying to work its way out of a long dark tunnel. “Because what we’ve got in the process is good, and it… it will get better still?”
Paige nodded. “And maybe it’s okay that there’s a lot of work ahead to make the change, because that’s a given, for everyone who either made it through That Day, or is waiting to wake up and find themselves in a totally new world? I mean, everyone is going to have to change something.” She paused. “But I will admit we tend to hold back some of the joy we could have.”
“Another thing we should grow out of, in time.” Mirah offered. “Though, I admit, in my case, that might take a while.”
“Me too.” Paige admitted. “I’ve been holding back on some of the things that… make me happier.”
Mirah gave her a knowing grin.
Paige flushed a little. “Anyway. We were talking about you.”
Mirah’s grin faded briefly, and she ran a hand through her graying hair. “That Gold Letter, about my kid. There’s a reason why I was given the notice years in advance. Because the Angel knew I hadn’t ‘accepted’ yet.”
“Jehovah wanted to remind you that the best parts of your life are yet to come.” Paige nodded gently. “Really, that’s true of all of us. It’s why eternal life is such a blessing.”
Mirah let out a breath. “Then I’d better get serious. I want to be there for my ‘appointment’, after all.”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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