Had Eve Come First and Jonah Been a Woman. Nancy Werking Poling
I struggle to find a place that offers heartache?”
“Because I am always creating. Even when my desire for harmony is obstructed I will be their God. I will comfort them. Leave the future to me.”
I have lived my full span of years. I have buried my husband in the cave where I too will be laid to rest.
The journey was long and arduous, but eventually I arrived in this land, where I did indeed flourish. I have been blessed with children and grandchildren who admire the harmony of God Most High’s creation and praise her for it. They too are restless and full of questions. I have taught them that God Most High is a God of mystery and that while she delights in their efforts to understand her, she cannot be contained.
I remain a woman of wealth, but being blessed is less tangible than silver and gold. It is in seeing my heirs come to trust God Most High, in having my neighbors regard me as a woman of integrity and wisdom.
The journey itself was part of the blessing. I have been allowed to see what’s beyond the next mountain, on the other side of the river. The times that have been arid or fraught with dangers—they have been part of the blessing too, for I have survived them. A woman learns from such times. She learns that she is strong and capable. Such knowledge is certainly a blessing.
I have had the opportunity to be not just a wanderer over land but a wanderer in my mind as well. Since my youth I have explored the mysteries of God Most High. Sometimes I have been allowed to spend time in her shadow; at other times I have walked and walked but she has been beyond my reach. The times with her, those spent searching for her too, have been a blessing.
Has my name become great? That is for future generations to decide. If it is to be, the greatness will be the result of putting myself in new situations, facing the challenges, taking actions that will provide a better place for my neighbors and descendents.
I still think of my oldest sister. I do not know whether she still breathes. I assume she lived out her days as our mother and her mother and our grandmother’s mother lived theirs. Several times I have challenged God Most High’s intentions. Why should I have flourished while my sister had no similar opportunities?
If I could see her again, what would I tell her? Not how grateful I am that God Most High chose me. No, that would be wrong. I would hold my sister close and express gratitude for her hard work. Her sacrifice allowed me to leave our parents and venture forth. I would assure her that the blessings of God Most High were not mine alone. They were also for future generations, for our parents’ grandchildren and those who come after them.
* I am grateful to the work of Elie Wiesel in “The Sacrifice of Isaac: A Survivor’s Story,” in Messengers of God (New York: Simon and Shuster, 1976).
The Lamb that Was Slain
Genesis 22
“Take your son, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering,” God tells Abraham. Abraham follows God’s instructions until, at the last minute, an angel intervenes, telling Abraham not to lay his hand upon the boy.
Seeing Isaac as female reminds us of young girls who are victims of violence and abuse.
It is late at night, but I lie with my eyes wide open, too excited to sleep. As soon as day breaks I get to go with Father up to the mountains. To make a sacrifice. It is a long trip, he says, it will take several days. I’ve been such a good girl that I get to go with him. Mother will pack food for us to take along and two servants will go too, and we’ll see animals. Because I’ve been a good girl. I’ve been a good girl and Father loves me.
Everybody respects him. He tells them how to make sacrifices and how God wants to be worshipped. They call him Leader, and they tell each other he is a man of God.
I wish I could go to sleep. I shall just lie here and try not to think about anything. Make my mind blank. Not think about anything.
I like being the daughter of an important man, I like standing near him while he speaks to the people. God is with you in all that you do, I heard a man tell him once.
It must be nearly morning, but I have not been able to sleep at all, I am so excited. Mother does not want me to go. She said it is too long a trip for a child, but Father said I am hardly a child any more, I am almost a woman. He winked at me when he said it, because we all know I am not really almost a woman.
Get a good night’s sleep, Father told me before I went to bed. I am trying hard to do what he said.
I hear people moving around. It is still dark but the servants are getting everything ready, and I hear Father telling them what to do. Telling them what food to pack for our trip.
I am going to get up.
Mother sets bread and goat cheese in front of me, but I push the food away. I want us to be on our way. I want to help Father make the sacrifice.
It is barely daylight when we leave for the mountain. I sit on the donkey in front of him. I do not fear falling off while our bodies bounce up and down, because he has wrapped his arms around me. I know he will not let anything bad happen to me. We talk as we ride, and he makes jokes, which I laugh at. Then I make jokes too, and he laughs. Behind us two servants carry our provisions. And the wood for the sacrifice.
I am sleepy. With Father’s arms wrapped around me, while we bounce up and down, I fall asleep.
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