~~/*\~~ Arit ~~/*\~~
Arit was making some deliveries to the other stall keepers in town. The last delivery was a new, fine earthenware water jug for Eliphaz. He went to the usual spot at the city gates to arrange a delivery time for it, only to find the usual spot for the town’s wise men to be empty.
“Eliphaz isn’t here. He and the other two have gone to see Job.” Someone told him. Arit recognized him as one of Bildad’s servants.
“Oh.” Arit blinked. “Well, that’s good. I mean, it’s certainly beyond time, right?”
The other man scoffed. “Right.”
Arit was silent for a long moment. The ‘curse’ around Job was still understood by everyone. But if his three closest friends were finally ministering to him in some way, they must have gotten over their fear… “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not telling you a lot of things, because it’s none of your business.” The other man put him down lightly. “But my master has gone to the Heretic, to set him straight. They feel he may yet be salvaged.”
“Heretic? Job?” Arit was so bewildered by that, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Well, he must be, right? Why else would all this have happened to him?”
~~/*\~~
Now that someone had said it, Arit was hearing it everywhere. People were still gossiping about Job and his fall from authority, but none of them were saying his name. It was as if the name of ‘Job’ had become dangerous somehow. Arit had heard of it happening before, when people spoke of really dangerous and demonic worshipers. Nobody wanted to speak openly of them, as if speaking of their dark gods and worse priests somehow made them dirty just by association.
Job cannot possibly be that… demonic, can he? Surely just saying his name cannot make you unclean?
Arit was doing a slow seethe about it the whole time he was working his daily tasks for Vede at his kiln. The heat that blazed against his skin from the ovens seemed to be boiling away in his emotions too.
He hadn’t even noticed Vede arrive at the door to the shed, giving him a long look. “Whatever’s got you in a temper, don’t take it out on my wares.”
Arit didn’t turn. “Of course not, sir.”
~~/*\~~
That was the last word until much later in the day. Arit noticed a change in the air around Vede after he came back from his own meal. Arit had eaten some bread and dried fruit, standing his post at the stall while his new master had gone to eat with his family.
When Vede came back, he was livid about something.
The afternoon sales continued as normal, so whatever it was, it wasn’t the business. But Arit could feel the older man’s eyes burning into his back every few minutes.
Finally, he could take no more. “Is something wrong, sir?”
Vede met his gaze, and gestured that they would both go into the shed, to speak in private. Feeling a sense of doom close in on him yet again, Arit obeyed.
Vede was unnaturally still. “A few weeks ago, you mentioned that your brother was a servant of the Heretic, slain by the calamities that befell him and his family.”
Arit said nothing. He’d never forgiven himself for telling half the truth, and essentially blaming Job’s sufferings on the man himself, as the rest of the town had seemed to do.
“You’re a good liar, Arit. I believed every word you said.” Vede seethed quietly. “You were one of his servants too, yes?”
It wasn’t really a question, but Arit answered it anyway. “One of very few who survived to report the… the massacre of everything I loved.” He glanced over. “If I may ask, how did you find out?”
“Well, I wasn’t investigating your story, if that’s what you mean. When you became my employee, I took you at your word, on the assumption that someone in your position might decide to be honest with his employer.”
Arit lowered his voice. “Someone spotted me heading back to Job’s land?”
“After everything you lost, and all because you happened to know that man, you’re still supporting him. You’re supporting him.” Vede clearly couldn’t believe it. “I’m told you’re feeding him out of your wages, now that he is practically an invalid. And now you will tell me why.”
In his darkest moments, trying to sleep, when thoughts of his brother haunted him… Arit was starting to ask the same question. “I’m helping him because I don’t believe he is a Heretic. I support him because if he’s cursed for his own wickedness, I don’t know what hope there is for the rest of us. I take him food because… I need him to be alive. Because he and Mahala are the only other people left in the world that remember my brother even existed. Everyone else who knew us is dead.” His voice dropped into something hard and vicious. “Everyone. I know, because I was there when they all died.”
Cold silence.
“Well.” Vede said finally. “I suppose I can understand… loyalty. But I’m afraid we’re past that now.” The last time the Potter had been furious with him, he’d backhanded Arit across the shed. This was worse. He was cold, and so quiet that Arit actually had to strain to hear him. “If you go back to Job, you’re fired. If anyone finds out that one of my employees is walking the cursed ground of Job’s land, then we will share in those curses.”
“Since when? I’ve been feeding him all this time. No curse on us.”
“You mean aside from your brother’s death? Believe me, the rest of the city will take care of that if word gets out.” Vede said flatly. “If you run out of reasons to avoid that place, let the last one be because I have forbidden it. Do. Not. Go. Back. The Heretic is nobody’s problem but his own. And let’s keep it that way.”
He hasn’t said Job’s name. It was almost like the start of the calamity all over again. Arit had been standing there, watching the world crash down on Job’s head, seeing the rules of their world change completely. Now it was happening again. Job had been the subject of gossip and pity, but now he was scorned, the City unwilling to say his name aloud.
How is this happening?
However it happened, Arit had been given a direct order by his employer. If word was getting around that he was still helping Job, serving him and his wife in any way, then Vede was his last chance. For whatever reason, Vede was willing to give him this one last chance. Before it had been a personal choice. It has been up to Arit what he did on his own time, or with his wages. Helping Job had been a personal matter.
Now he was being expressly forbidden from showing any aid to Job, for fear of what might happen when word got out. If Arit went anyway, he’d join in Job’s shame, and be condemned along with him.
Condemned for what? A little voice said desperately inside him. What is Job being shamed for? What right does Vede or anyone else have to say that Job is guilty of any sin?
“Doesn’t matter.” He whispered to himself. “Whether Job did anything or not, I work for the Potter now, and he has forbidden me from going to Job. He has to. If word got out that his employees was consorting with ‘the Heretic’, then Vede would lose business.
Jehovah God, if I leave this post and try to find a new place, sooner or later the word will get out that I worked for Job for most of my life. I’m living my last chance right now. I don’t get another one. Arit prayed, out of ideas. What else can I do? Who else can I turn to?
~~/*\~~
Elihu entered the City of Uz, and slid down from his horse. He checked at the City Gates, but there was no guard. The usual position of the town leadership was empty, which was strange. Usually, there was at least one of the elder men sitting there, to deal with the day-to-day matters and arbitration of the townsfolk.
Shaking it off, he went to the usual Inn. Journeys across this part of the world were long, and sometimes treacherous. Uz was usually a pretty stable, and safe place for travelers to visit. There had been word of bandits and nomadic warriors on the road, but Elihu had avoided them successfully on his way here. Finding a place to stay for the night, and having his animals tended to was the first order of business.
But the Inn was under new management when he arrived, with images painted over the door. Images of Baal. Elihu stared warily at the new markings and idols. Baal worship wasn’t uncommon, but he hadn’t known it had reached Uz in any numbers.
Instead of acquiring lodging, Elihu made his way into town, looking for answers. Everyone he approached directed him to the new owner of the Inn. The man who had remade it into a Shrine.
~~/*\~~
“Greetings.” The Acolyte bowed, bright and friendly. “I am Salim, servant of Baal-Uz. I understand you’re looking for lodging while you’re in town?”
“I am.” Elihu agreed. “I had planned to stay with a friend, if the Inn was unavailable.”
“Oh, there are rooms available, certainly.” Salim said openly. “The Innkeeper fell on hard times, when his Patron suddenly went broke. The building is now a Shrine to Baal-Uz, and all are welcome.”
Elihu felt a cold spike. “Job was the patron. What happened to Job?”
Salim paused. “You know the Heretic?”
“Heretic?!” Elihu was stunned. “The honored Job was my teacher, in the ways of Jehovah God.”
Salim’s face changed. “I see.” He lowered his voice. “If a total stranger may offer you some advice, from one servant of the gods to another?”
Elihu was about to set the man straight on that, but something in his expression made him wait. “As you say.”
“I would not advertise your connection to that man so… loudly, in town. He may have once been one of the most honored men in the land, but right now, he is cursed, and nobody is sure which God did it.” The Acolyte paused. “But they all know which God failed to protect him.”
“I… cannot believe that.” Elihu stammered, suddenly unsure. “I have been a servant of Jehovah for many years, due in no small part to Job’s teachings. If he is in some kind of trouble.”
“Not ‘some kind’. Every kind.” Salim told him sagely.
Over the next few minutes, the Acolyte told him what had happened to Job. From the loss of his family, to the loss of his wealth, to how the town had reacted, and finally Job’s current state.
Elihu was in shock. The suddenness of the whole disaster was horrific to hear about, let alone experience. “I… I should go to him.” He said absently, barely paying attention to his own words. “He will surely need a lot of support.”
“You must not.” Salim told him swiftly. “There is a belief, in town, that anyone who supports the Heretic will surely be dragged down by his sins. Nobody wants his curse to befall them too.”
“Has nobody gone to him?” Elihu’s voice was rising with sudden anger. “What about his wife? Has anyone offered her any kind of help? She’s lost everything too, hasn’t she?”
“Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar have all gone to Jo-to him.” The Acolyte assured him. “Mahala has… found someone to take her in, and offer the comfort and support that Jehovah cannot.”
Elihu didn’t like the sound of that. “Job’s friends have gone to see him? Tradition calls for a week of mourning… How long have they been there?”
“Not sure, really.” Salim waved it off. “If you’re thinking of going after them, you better think again. What can you add that the wisest, most respected elders in town can’t say or do already?”
“Likely very little, I admit.” Elihu nodded. “But it’s still the right thing to do.”
“It’s the expected thing to do. Tradition, as you said.” Salim countered. “But in reality, you stand a far greater chance of bringing his misfortune down on yourself. If his three friends can’t straighten him out, I dread to think what may happen next.” He was clearly done with this conversation. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to.”
Elihu stared after the Acolyte as he left, wondering what to do next. He hadn’t come to Uz specifically to see Job, but he’d certainly intended to see his old friend and teacher. But if reports were true, and Job had, somehow, fallen away from Jehovah's approval, enough to be… torn down, then should he avoid the man?
Father Jehovah, who sees all that happens on the Earth, what should I do? Elihu asked. Job taught me to offer comfort to those who were in need, but he also taught me to avoid those who have rejected true worship. Father, it seems to be the consensus in town that Job has been punished by You, and surely…
“I hurt my hand!” A small voice wailed.
Elihu jumped, startled from his prayer. Behind him, a small Boy looked up, beseeching him through eyes full of tears. Sure enough, the child seemed to be bleeding from one hand. Instinct took over as he crouched next to the boy, giving his injury a careful gaze. “Well, that’s not so bad. Let’s get you cleaned up. Where is your family?”
“Somewhere.” The Boy waved that off, sniffling as he picked up his instrument with his good hand.
Elihu plucked the boy up off the ground and carried him to the nearest stall. “Excuse me?” He called ahead. “Would you have clean cloths and some water? Something to clean up this gash?”
Arit, standing at the stall, quickly nodded, and collected what was needed. Elihu sat the Boy on the edge of the counter and started cleaning out his cut. Elihu gave Arit a look, and he nodded. “So, you been playing long?” Arit asked the Boy, keeping him distracted while the other man worked.
“Long enough to be good at it.” The Boy said proudly, wiping the tears from his face. “My brother taught me. He was my Father’s firstborn, and I’m told he pretty much invented all music.”
Arit chuckled at that. “My older brother taught me too. It’s been years since I’ve played. I just didn’t have the time.”
“My Father always says to make the time for the more important things, and the rest looks after itself.” The Boy said, but the smile ran away from his face as he looked down at his hand. “But I guess that’s over. No more music.”
Arit took the stringed instrument, which had a little damage of its own. Without thinking, he quickly tightened up the strings, and plucked out a quick chord. The sound was sharp and clear. “It still plays well.” He told the Boy. “Don’t let the scuffs fool you, it’s fine.”
“Not that thing. Me.” The Boy gestured at his hand. “Nobody taught me how to play one handed.”
“It’s hardly that bad.” Elihu smiled a bit at the child, getting a proper look at the wound. “Just a cut. Looks like it missed everything important.”
“But I can’t play with my hand wrapped up like this.” The Boy insisted, tearing up again. “I could always play, and now I can’t.”
“Fear not, young man. Your hand will heal. You’ll be playing again soon enough.”
“No.” The Boy shook his head, pulling into himself.
Elihu grinned. “Maybe a few days. It could heal up enough even sooner.”
“But… how do I know something worse won’t happen? How do I know for sure that it’ll be better again tomorrow? Or the next day? Or ever?” The Boy asked plaintively.
“...you don’t.” Arit said simply. “But if you’ve been playing your whole life, you can hardly give up because of a few bad days.” He smiled. “You’re young. I know a week feels like forever, but it’ll go by before you know it.”
“You said I might get better even before that?” The Boy gave him a look. “So I can hope?”
Arit stared at him, realizing something about himself. “You can hope.” He promised quietly. “Whatever else happens, you can always hope.”
“I know that thinking about all the good things I have to hope for can make me feel better when I’m sad.” Elihu said gently, the way adults always did when consoling a child.
“Me too.” The Boy smiled. “I feel better now.”
Arit nodded absently, still thinking. He didn’t even notice the Boy jump down from the counter-top up and walk away.
Elihu let him go, assuming the child was headed home. “Thanks for your help.” He said to Arit, and looked closer. “I know you.” He said finally. “Last time I was in Uz, we met. You fed and watered my horses.”
Arit twitched. There was only one place where they could have met, if he’d been tending to a visitor’s animals. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Vede was out of earshot. “When I worked for… my old employer.”
Elihu’s head tilted. “Nobody’s willing to say his name anymore.”
“The Acolyte had some part in that, but in truth, people are too afraid to risk it.” Arit nodded. “In fact, my employer just warned me that if I tried to offer him and his wife any further assistance, then I will be dismissed. Possibly in danger. People are losing all sense over Jo- over him.”
Elihu looked back after the Boy, but he was out of sight. “Well. I’ve heard that his friends are going to see him. Offer him some comfort and advice?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“I think I’ll go too.” Elihu said swiftly. “What that child said about still having hope? It was Job who taught me that. It was Job who taught me that hope was the most important thing, especially when times were hard. I can’t very well stay behind and let strangers return the favor.”
Arit hesitated, glancing back at Vede’s workshop, knowing his new master would have him flogged. Job could offer him nothing anymore. In all likelihood, he never would again. But I can hope…
“I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” Arit heard himself say.
~~/*\~~
“Well.” The Merchant observed, joining The Boy a moment later. “Job seems to be quite the topic of interest. To everyone.”
The Boy said nothing to that, but inwardly he was seething. It was true. Job’s lands, the City… Standing just outside the range of human perception, there were many spirit beings. Some were on assignment, most were there to observe. The Tempter had made his challenge in front of all of them. “You seem eager to work for someone who was notably absent when you were judged.”
“I don’t work for the Resister. I don’t work for anyone anymore. I’m free.”
“Free? Free to go anywhere on Earth.” The Boy remarked cuttingly. “As I recall, before the Flood you thought this world was so tiny it wasn’t worth His notice.”
“Why would I leave?” The Merchant grinned. “It’s the first time in centuries that I’ve been able to catch up with my old friends.”
(Author’s Note: 2 Peter 2:4 speaks of the disobedient Angels before the Flood, saying that they are imprisoned, and ‘put in chains of dense darkness to be reserved for judgment’ The Insight book clarifies that they were not confined to the Earth at that time. Revelation 12: 7-9 says that at the start of the Last Days, there was a war in heaven between Jesus and Satan, with the latter and all his followers being defeated and cast down to the Earth. Between the two times, there is the story of Job. Job chapter one makes it clear that Satan had access to Jehovah, and the gathering of angels.
Though it is possible that the number of Rebellious Angels never changed from the Flood on, it would be in character for Satan and the Demons to be trying to lead more angels into Rebellion before he was cast out. This possibility greatly changes the implications of Satan’s confrontation with God in heaven; though it’s supposition on my part.)
“Is that what this is all about?” The Boy demanded. “A recruiting drive? You haven’t dragged enough of our people down, you want more?”
“I want nothing.” The Merchant said serenely. “After all, I wasn’t there at the gathering in heaven, was I? I wasn’t invited.”
The Boy seethed, but didn’t answer. What was there to say? He could see others who hadn’t walked among humans in years, all of them listening closely to what the locals were saying about Job, and about Jehovah. None of it was encouraging.
The Merchant agreed, seeing all their spirit brethren having similar conversations. “The sons of Jacob are in chains. Nobody thinks your God has a grip on His own creation anymore, and He’s betting His right to rule humanity on a man who’s hoping he dies before nightfall.”
~~/*\~~
After the warning from the Potter, Arit knew he should wait until nightfall. But he couldn’t bring himself to wait. Once he’d made the decision to remain loyal to Job, even in the face of threats, everything that delayed him from doing so felt… almost deliberate. Which was ridiculous, of course. Nobody was watching for him. Nobody knew his plans.
Hoofbeats.
Arit froze, letting out a gasp of sudden terror, unable to turn, unable to run. He was laying on his back, with his brother’s blood all over him, and death everywhere…
“Hello again.” A voice called.
Arit forced himself to shake off the sudden panic, and looked back up the road, to see Elihu approaching. Confused, Arit looked both ways along the road. “There’s no way I got here ahead of you on foot.”
“I stayed in town most of the afternoon. I was attempting to purchase food and medicines for Job. But word got around about who I was shopping for, and suddenly nobody wanted to sell to me.” Elihu explained. “How have people turned against him so fast?”
“I don’t know, but it appears to be true of everyone.”
“It must be Salim.” Arit said with grim certainty. “Before all this started, the Acolyte sought to buy livestock from Job, for sacrifices to Baal. Job refused, because he didn’t want to support worship of other gods. The Acolyte said that it was none of Job’s business what his customers did with livestock and goods after the sale had been made, but Job was adamant.”
“Ahh. And now that Job has fallen on hard times, he is returning the favor. The marketplace is certain that Job is cursed, and so is anyone who tries to help him.” Arit hefted his bag. “Most of the time, the only supply I can offer is from what I have for myself.”
“Are you facing reprisals? For once being his attendant?”
“That’s not public knowledge.” Arit admitted. “Almost everyone who ever worked for Job is dead, along with…” His voice hitched. “I barely had time to bury my brother before I had to find other work. Job couldn’t even afford to feed me.”
Elihu winced. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.” He lowered his voice. “And you, Arit? Do you believe that Job is cursed?”
“Clearly, but if it’s punishment from Jah, I cannot say.” Arit nodded. “Even after everything, I cannot imagine what Job might have done to warrant this kind of… reprisal. Because the ‘curse’ has not killed Job. It killed everyone around him, including my brother. God has better aim than that, surely?”
Elihu almost smiled. “So, you’re a follower of Jehovah, then?”
“I am. If you asked people in town, a lot of them would say the same. Abraham was a forefather of many, even in this part of the world.” Arit nodded. “But a growing number would say the same about Baal-Uz.”
Elihu nodded slowly. “A growing number. But not you?”
And Arit found it all came pouring out. He’d had nobody to talk to since his brother died. The family had been wiped out. Job and Mahala had been mourning their own, and there were so many losses that they couldn’t even come to the funeral for his brother and the other attendants.
From such a large staff, there were only three of us left. Arit thought.
As he told Elihu the whole story, tears rolled down his face without shame, but he kept coming back to that point. “Every time I so much as hear a hoofbeat, I relive the moment my brother died, laying his body over mine to make it appear we were both dead, trying to fool those murderers into thinking the job was done.” He looked up with red eyes, speaking half in entreaty to Elihu, half in accusation to God. “Why am I alive?! What set me apart from… all of them?”
“In all likelihood, nothing at all.” Elihu said. His voice was warm, gentle. His expression was sympathetic, tearing up himself in empathy. “Sometimes there are things we just don’t understand. Job made that clear to me. Sometimes bad things happen, and there’s no explanation for it. No reason, either. Misfortune isn’t malicious; it’s just indiscriminate. Such is the way of a fallen world.”
“Job taught me those lessons too. But there’s a… a duality about it that I can’t accept anymore.” Arit ground out, finally having someone to talk to about this. “God condemns the unrighteous, but none of us are without sin, but He loves us wholeheartedly, and forgives and shows mercy… How can all these things be true?”
Elihu took the question seriously. “Job taught me that God only gives things we need, or things that help. If there’s nothing to redeem or explain the bad days… Then they can’t be a punishment from Jehovah. According to Job, He always tells people why, before he acts in judgment.”
“I wonder if he still feels that way now, given everything he’s gone through.” Arit said quietly. “At first, I tried to figure out why I survived. What did I do right? But now, as much as I hate what happened to my brother, at least it ended fast. I wonder if maybe I’m being punished with… survival. I know Job thinks that way. I heard him praying.”
“People say and think things in their worst moments that they’d never even consider in times of sanity, my brother.”
“I know. And if this was happening to someone else, I wouldn’t hold them to any of it.” Arit was suddenly exhausted by the whole topic. “But I can’t help but think my brother’s worries are over. I had to lie about my whole life to find work at a Pottery stall, and I’m taking a chance on starvation every time I come back here.” He lowered his voice further. “Seeing Job, hearing the people talk in town… If God really wanted to punish someone, there are worse things than dying. And I know Job is thinking about it too, at least sometimes.”
“Well, I intend to find out for sure.” Elihu said briskly. “But if I may take the liberty, Arit? I think something of your character is revealed too. You’re in mourning for your family, just as Job is. You’ve lost your financial and personal security, just as he has. But where everyone in town appears to have turned their backs, you’re giving him food from your own plate.”
“I had to. I couldn’t not.” Arit murmured, walking again. “It’s barely more than a few mouthfuls.”
“It’s more than anyone else in town has done.” Elihu offered. “We find out more about our character in times of great stress than we do in years of ‘normal’ life.”
And Arit lived it all again. The charge of the bandits, the screams of the victims… and the way he froze completely, requiring his brother to save his life, at the cost of his own. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He had spoken so softly that Elihu hadn’t heard it, and he was still remarking on Job. “What it comes down to is this: At our destination is my old friend Job. The man who taught me about Jehovah, and who supported half of this community with the blessings he’d been given. If he’s forgotten that, then someone has to remind him. No matter what state he’s in now, he still did all of that.”
Arit blinked, as if waking up from a nightmare. “Yes. Yes he did.” He agreed, and checked his bag. “It just occurred to me that there are actually four people waiting at the end of this road. Five, including you. And if Job’s companions have been taking part in seven days of mourning, then they may not have eaten either.”
Elihu gave him some money. “If you have better luck getting food from the merchants, then I’d be grateful.”
Arit thanked him, and turned back, running back towards town.
~~/*\~~
The three of them sat in dust and ashes, far enough away from Job to avoid the worst of the smell, but close enough that Job could always see them there. Arit had arrived now and then to bring Job food and water. He was nervous about doing so when the others were there, wary of rumors. The three honored men knew what he was afraid of and had all taken oaths of discretion.
“If we aren’t going to talk to him, why are we staying?” Bildad asked the other two finally. “We’ve been sitting here for days.”
“A week is traditional in times of mourning.” Eliphaz countered quietly. “We cannot leave before that.”
“I thought we’d come to tell him what he needed to hear. At the very least, to offer him some kind of comfort.” Zophar put in, keeping his voice quiet enough that Job couldn’t hear it.
“Look at him.” Eliphaz returned. “He’s so… pathetic, and wretched. What comfort could we offer? And if we do give him advice, no matter how sorely needed, aren’t we just beating a cripple?”
“Ahem.”
The three turned, startled, to see they were not alone. Elihu had left his horse behind at the house, and made his way around to join them behind the kitchens, where Job was. It was clear he had heard everything the older men were saying as he approached.
(Author’s Note: The November 15th, 1994 Watchtower says: “The trio made a big show of sympathy by weeping, ripping their garments, and tossing dust upon their heads. But then they sat with Job seven days and seven nights without uttering one word of comfort! These three arrogant frauds were so bereft of spirituality that they had nothing comforting to say about Jehovah and his promises. Yet, they were drawing wrong conclusions and getting ready to use them against Job as soon as they had complied with the formalism of public grief. Interestingly, before the seven-day silence ended, the young man Elihu took a seat within hearing distance.”
That article gave me an idea on the timing. The Bible points out that the three false comforters went to Job for a week, and then the ‘debate’ began. A debate that Elihu is present for, but the moment he speaks is the first time he’s mentioned. The verses clearly say that three of them came to Job and sat by him for a week. But Elihu made four, when they started making their speeches. I chose this way to balance the timeline of events.)
Elihu was watching the three older men with a concerned look. “My lords, may I sit with you?”
The three older men blinked, as though this was a thought that had not even occurred to them. Compared to them, he was clearly too young to be anyone of significance or importance. “You?” Eliphaz blinked.
“I know I may not have your eloquence, or your experience, but I do know the man.” Elihu made a plea respectfully. “Job was a regular fixture at the City Gates. He taught me much about my ancestor Abraham; and I may owe my life to his stories of Jehovah and His servants.”
The elder men had shaken off their moment of being caught unawares. “Well then, please do join us.” Zophar said finally. “After all, he’s lost all his own children. The affection of the young may come as a particular comfort.”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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