The Fall of Jericho

    I am Belshazar, Rahab’s brother.  Here I will chronicle the fall of my city, Jericho.  I consider it to be the most important event in my entire life.  It even surpasses my marriage and the marriages of my children.
    I was a merchant, in that time, enjoying all the comforts that my profession called for.  I had a large house, many servants, extreme success—not only in Jericho, but also in the surrounding area—and 6 sons.  Basically, I was at the top of Jericho’s society, just under the king.
    One ordinary day, I heard that a large camp had been seen by scouts beyond the Jordan River.  At first I did not think this was bad; in fact, I believed it would be good for my business.  Most groups of travelers needed a merchant’s services.  I immediately began to plan for the upcoming days.
    The next day, as I was sitting in my stall in the marketplace without a worry in the world, I saw a platoon of soldiers headed towards the east part of town.  I didn’t think much of it and continued to daydream about profits from the group of travelers.  Suddenly, one of my companions—and fellow merchant—yelled, “Hey, Belshazar!”
    “What?” I responded
    “I heard those soldiers talking as they went by.  They said that there were spies in the city!”
    “No kidding?”
    “No kidding.  They also mentioned that they were being harbored at your sister Rahab’s house.”
    “What!?!”
    “You heard me!  Your ears aren’t as deaf as all that!”
    “Well, thanks for the tip.” I said, quietly seething.  How could my sister harbor spies in her own house?  I decided to ask her about them the next day.
    The truth is that I wasn’t able to talk to her until the next week.  My business had hit a big decline because the city was in a complete state of lockdown.  No one could come in and no one could leave.  This meant I couldn’t move my wares to the neighboring areas, and I couldn’t get new wares from anywhere else.  Since I had been so stressed, I decided to take a walk on the east wall and, in the process, try to talk to my sister about the spies.
    As soon as I got onto the wall, I saw a seemingly endless camp a long way away.  Now I could see why the city had been locked down.  As I stood there gaping at the endless camp, my sister ran me over.
    “I’m so sorry.” She said, “Oh! Hi, Belshazar.”
    “Yeah, it’s me.” I answered.  “Where are you going in such a hurry?”  I was going to ask her about the spies, but there were soldiers watching and listening.  I didn’t want to become involved with harboring spies.
    “Well, I was going to look for you, dad, and the rest of the family.”
    “What’s the occasion?”
    “I need you and the rest of your family to move in with me for the next week or two.”
    “Why should I listen to you?  You were harboring spies!”  I hissed.
    “Because I have to try to keep you safe.  The camp you see over there will attack very soon.  The alleged ‘spies’ I harbored swore that no one that was in my house when they attacked would be hurt.”
    “So you actually did keep men in your house that were spying on Jericho.” I said with some finality.
    “Yes, and they are not the bad sort.  They are actually nice people.  They have this God they worship…”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.  I guess I’ll believe you now.  But if something happens to me or my family, it’ll be on your conscience.”
    Later that same day I moved in.  I brought my wife and my six sons along with a special servant.  The next day I went out early and saw a line of soldiers, divided in two groups, coming from the camp.  You can bet I didn’t stay and watch.  I ran back inside the house and watched from the window which had a strange red chord tied to it, but I didn’t worry about it.  I watched them as they marched around the city once with a golden box-like thing in the middle guided by strangely-attired trumpet players.
    I didn’t leave the house the next day or the rest of the week.  I only watched from the window for the next day.  After that I got bored.  They seemed to walk around the city only once for six days.  The seventh day one of my sons decided to watch the procession.  He said that they began going around more than once.  They went around seven times that day.  All of a sudden, I heard a loud noise, as if the entire group was yelling along with the trumpets and making the ground shake.  Just as it began, it stopped. Immediately a loud rumbling noise was heard, though for a short time.
    Shortly after, two men came to the door looking for my sister.  She told us to follow her and the two men.  As soon as we left the house my jaw dropped.  The supposedly impregnable walls of Jericho were on the ground destroyed.  We weren’t allowed to stare at the crumbling remains long because we were taken to the leader of the attackers.  I think his name was Joshua.  He accepted us as part of his people and gave us everything we needed to feel right at home.
    Here ends the chronicle of the fall of Jericho.  My family and I lived on, mixing into the Israeli culture—that’s what they called themselves.  My sons married nice Israeli girls and expanded my family.  I have always wondered how they destroyed the walls of my home town with just a yell, but I guess it could have been their all-powerful God.  They actually refuse to speak his name.  Maybe I should try to get to know him.  He may a pretty good guy.

The Here and Now

It was cold and dreary that day on that boardwalk.  I wished I had worn more than just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.  The wind was constant.  It broke right through any clothing you had on.  The gray sky and weak waves on the beach gave the appearance of a dreary day, which was exactly what it was.
I was standing on the edge of the boardwalk, watching the gray ocean move silently.  The lights on the storefronts along with the lights of the streetlights blinded people to the beauty surrounding them.  It was a dreary day, yes, but it was still beautiful.  I couldn’t hear the sound of the slight waves crashing on the beach because of all the noise around me.
When will people learn?!  If we could just be silent for one instant, a single instant, we would appreciate how many sounds surround us.  If we could just turn off the lights for a single minute, we could see all the beauty that lives in the world around us.  We need to recognize what we have.
I’ve veered off topic.  After taking all of this in, I walked down to the beach and sat down on the sand.  The ceaseless chatter from the boardwalk still reached me, but it wasn’t as annoying.  A group of kids was playing football a ways down the beach.  I smiled at the thought of playing football on the beach with my friends.
I looked back at the waves and quickly sank back into my melancholic mood.  Why does a cloudy day do that to me?  I don’t know.  Maybe the crowds of people pressing around me along with the cold had gotten to me.  In any occasion, I wasn’t feeling very happy.
I sat there for a while, just staring at the waves and thinking.  I had arranged to meet someone here, but she hadn’t shown up.  Maybe that also contributed to my melancholy.  I stood up and turned to leave, looking one last time at the small waves coming in from the ocean.
I sighed, tucked my cold hands into my pockets, and turned to go, my eyes on my feet as I walked.  I didn’t care if I hit anybody.  I just wanted to get out of there.  This place held so many bad memories.  I didn’t want that day to become another one.
That boardwalk was where I learned that my parents had died in a car crash.  That boardwalk was where I had learned that my foster parents didn’t want me anymore.  That boardwalk is where I learned that I didn’t have enough money or knowledge to go to college and do something with my life.  That boardwalk is where I learned that I was bound to be an unfortunate guy for the rest of my life.
A tear dripped from my eye as I recalled these events.  Why had my life been so difficult?  Why couldn’t I have had a better life?  What could I have done to make my life easier to bear?  I clenched my fists in my pockets, feeling the anger growing inside me.
A light touch on my shoulder brought me back to the present.  I spun around, tears still streaming from my angry eyes to see the very person I had come to meet.  She was my best friend.  She was a few months older than I was and the exact opposite of what I was.  Her life had been almost perfect, yet she still befriended me.  I don’t know why.  We’d known each other since we were in kindergarten, and we’d never grown apart.
I guess she saw that look in my eye, the angry sadness, and understood what I was going through.  She drew me into a hug, consoling me in that one simple gesture.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I began to sob.  Deep, gut wrenching sobs that brought out all the frustration and anger I felt for this place and my life.  With those sobs, I unleashed all my fury.
“It’s OK.”  She said.  “It’s OK.”
We stood there like that for a few minutes then separated.  To my surprise, she was also crying.  Did she really feel sorry for me?  Could she actually be recognizing my reality?  Was she actually UNDERSTANDING me?
I couldn’t understand that.  How could someone like her, who had had a perfect life, relate to someone like me, who had a horrible life?  That thought was as remote to me as Pluto (that I still regard as a planet no matter what scientists say) is.
After this incident, which changed my life even though I didn’t know it at the time, we took a walk on that ancient boardwalk, revisiting all those places that I held anger against.  I could now walk past those places and not feel uncomfortable.  That’s not to say that I loved those places, but I didn’t feel like I had to avoid them or the entire boardwalk because of what happened there.
After revisiting those places, my luck began to change.  I was able to get a job and hold on to it for more than a week.  I threw myself into studying at the library to be able to get into college.  I was able to find new friends, better said, I was able to find some friends.  In short, I was able to focus and fight to regain my life.
Now my life is still good.  I got into college and graduated at the top of my class.  I got a good job at a large company and have risen up to become the CEO.  I married and had two kids, a boy and a girl in that order.  I work very hard to give my family whatever they need, but I know how important they are.  Whenever I have time, I’m spending time with them and enjoying their company.  I lost my parents when I was young and couldn’t spend time with them.  I wasn’t going to let that happen to my kids.
When I look back at my life, I can see that turning point.  That one day at the boardwalk changed my life.  It gave me back my life.  I learned not to live in the past or the future.  The past is something you can’t change with what you do in the present.  The future is something that can only be changed by what you do in the now.  I learned that I should keep my focus on the present.  Only the present can shape our lives.  Don’t worry about the past or the future, the here and now is all that counts.

I Am Rich

    In a rural town, somewhere in the Middle East, there was a small, old man.  I lived in that same town, until I moved away.  I had heard many stories of that old man and how he had changed his lifestyle drastically.  At one point, he was a usurer and would cheat people out of their money.  Nobody really liked this small, old man.
    By the time I was born, he had changed.  He stopped cheating people out of their money and began to return the money he had taken.  He was still very rich, however.  This was a shock to everyone, but I was just a baby then and don’t remember much.
    When I was a young boy, I would often see the man, small, old and wrinkly, walking down the street.  He was seventy or so and hobbled around leaning on an old wooden staff.  At first I was a little scared of him, I must admit, but I figured out that he wasn’t so bad after all.  He always had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face and he always had a treat or small coin for a young boy like me.
    I soon began to warm up to him.  I would visit his house many times a week and would hear marvelous stories about a man that shook the whole world.  As I grew older, the old man took me on as a helper of his.  I would run errands for him, and help him get around when he needed it.  He paid me very well and I could spend more time hearing those awesome stories.
    A few years after he hired me, he fell sick.  I tended him, hoping he would get better.  I had a certain love for the old man.  He was like my grandfather and I felt attached to him somehow.  Fortunately, after nearly a month of sickness, he began to get better.  He was able, once again, to get around town and visit his friends he knew so well.
    I forgot to mention that this man was fond of a certain area of the town.  He would always head towards the main avenue of the town and sit (or stand) and stare at an old withered tree that grew by the road.  Whenever we were there, I would ask him why he did that, but he never answered and by the time we were somewhere else, I would forget about the question.
    Two years after the old man’s sickness, he died.  He fell asleep and did not wake up in the morning.  I was about twenty years old at the time.  I mourned him like a son or a grandson for that matter. 
    I had a great surprise when I was told that I was the heir of the old man.  I had never wondered if he had children of his own, but now it seemed that he didn’t.  I had no idea what to do with what the old man had given me.  What I did do surprised everyone in my family and in the town.  I took a small portion of the money and goods and set them apart for a future time when I would need them.  The rest, that is to say the property, money, goods, artifacts, plants, furniture, and everything else, I donated to someone who had a need.
    The money was spread out among the poor people of the town.  The furniture I handed out to people who had a lack of furniture.  The artifacts I donated to people who would not sell them, but keep them for display to others.  The house I gave to a man who started a cheap inn there for everyone who had need of lodging but could not afford anything expensive.  All in all, I believed I had done the thing that the old man would have wanted me to do.
    Along with what I had kept there was a letter that the old man had addressed to me.  It said on the cover not to open until I had become a man of importance which he was sure I would achieve.  I put it away carefully and lovingly and, to tell the truth, soon forgot about it.  I had begun to work as a store owner in the town.  I had learned how to invest my money wisely because of what the old man had taught me.  I soon began to amass a large amount of riches.  So far, the letter went unremembered.
    I began to think about marrying, but no woman drew my attention very much.  That is to say, none drew my attention but her.  Her name was Deborah.  She had been my friend since childhood and I still maintained contact with her.  Her father, a wealthy merchant was trying to get her to marry, but she wouldn’t have any man.  Being his only daughter, the man let her do what she liked and did not force her to marry.  I saw her on the street one day and knew she was the one for me.
    I was still quite young when I asked her father for her hand, but I had a decent amount of money and property that the man could not deny.  In the summer of my thirtieth year, we were married.  We lived happily together for many years.  We had five children, three sons and two daughters.
    One day, my wife was cleaning the house and getting rid of old things that were useless or unnecessary.  As she cleaned, she found an old simple wooden box hidden in a remote corner.  She saved it, not knowing what was inside until I could come home and see it.
    When I got home she showed it to me.  I recognized it immediately.  I was the box that I had kept the small treasure from the old man in.  I opened the dusty top slowly, trying to remember the things that were inside.  I showed the contents to my wife who was very happy to have such things.  She quickly put up the decorations and other items in the house.  At the bottom of the box lay the letter.  I deemed that it was not the right time to open the letter then, so I put it away again.
I began to expand my business and import items from distant lands.  I began to grow in social status and in wealth.  I began to distance myself from my family.  I would work all day then return at night just to eat and sleep.  My wife soon got tired of this, but I told her that everything would be fine.  I began to change my attitude as well.  Before, when poor beggars would ask me for food or a coin, I would give them it and maybe some extra.  Now, I turned away every beggar with harsh words and sometimes a kick.
My business kept growing and growing until I was the largest and richest merchant in the area.  Then I remembered the letter.  I returned home that day and opened it.  The letter was not what I had expected.  It did not congratulate me or have good advice for me.  Well, I’d better let it speak for itself.

My dear David,
You have now become a great merchant.  You are very prosperous and have everything you have ever wanted.  I wrote this letter to you so that you would remember the days I would tell you stories about that man that changed my life.
He made me a happier man.  He helped me see the bright side of living.  You may think now that everything you have is what makes you happy and satisfied.  That is not true.  Only God can fill you and make you satisfied.
I now have a strict warning for you.  With riches, your heart hardens.  You forget the poor people that you loved before.  You ignore them or even despise them.  This has got to change.  There is another warning as well.  Someone who has riches gets very overconfident.  You trust in your own means of obtaining what you need.
Now I have a command for you.  I am not there to enforce it, but your conscience is.  I tell you to sell all you have, including your business.  Sell it all and give everything you get to the poor.  Doing this, you will remember to trust our Lord for everything.  I do not tell you to become a beggar.  I tell you to trust the Lord God Almighty for your every need.  Move into a smaller home, if necessary, and eat food that is not as rich. Drink water instead of wine.  Work in the fields and sweat instead of sitting on a couch and getting fat.
Again I will say that I am not there to enforce what I tell you like I was before, but I pray that your conscience will lead you in the direction that our God has for you.
I wish you the best in the name of our Lord.
Your friend and mentor,
Zaccheus

The letter impressed me.  It made me recognize that I had become close to what Zaccheus had been before he had been changed.  Needless to say, I followed Zaccheus’ command.  I bought a property in a farmland not far from there.  I then sold all my rich carpets and furniture, split up my business amongst many different interested people, sold all my rich food and wine, sold my nice clothes, and sold my mansion.  I then bought some old, rough clothes for me and my family and some old wooden furniture that was also rough.  I then spread out all that I had amongst the poor people of the area.
I felt good again.  My children had no idea why we had moved, but they were happy.  My sons enjoyed working in the fields and shepherding with me and my daughters were happy weaving wool for clothes.  My wife wasn’t too happy about the change.  She complained for a time until she saw that we were a close family and were content with what we had.
    I now still live on that little farm just outside the town.  I do not make much money, but I am content with what I have.  I now pass on what Zaccheus taught me to younger generations.  The land around this town has never been so prosperous nor the people so happy and friendly.  The people are not rich economically, but they are richer than you could ever imagine emotionally and spiritually.  God has worked in this town and he can work anywhere anyone lives.  That’s the truth.  Let’s be rich.

Reaching Paradise

    The golden sky shone like a gem reflecting colors that I didn’t have a name for.  The ground I was walking on was green.  At least, I thought it was green.  It looked like a green, but, again it reflected colors I had never seen or heard of before.  The closer I looked, the more colorful things got, not the other way around.  Far in the distance I could see a gigantic sea that looked like glass with the way it reflected light.  If it was glass, it was a type of glass I had never even imagined, because it was liquid.  The foam on the top of the waves was brilliant and seemed to even have a light of its own.  Behind me a herd of an animal I had never heard of was grazing.  They had horns like a deer branching out randomly and gracefully ending in a point.  Their face was something like a horse’s but much more graceful and intelligent.  In a single glance, their eyes expressed more than language ever could.  Their legs were strong, almost like a bull’s, but they moved so smoothly that you couldn’t imagine them being slow.  Their fur was a color that was hard to distinguish.  At times I would say that it was blue or black, but other times I might call it white or gold.  It seemed to change color every time they shifted, making it truly hard to distinguish their true color.  I don’t think I would have gotten bored of looking at them for the rest of my life, which could be forever in a place like this.
    I looked back at the sea and saw a vast sun setting on the horizon.  The rays that it threw caught the clouds in the sky with such a variety of colors I was amazed.  The sky looked like a watercolor painting in which the artist threw every available color into streams that merged and mixed all the time.  I stared and, strangely enough, the sun did not sink farther, instead, it just hung there on the horizon, a huge flaming ball of dazzling color.  I couldn’t imagine any artist ever being able to capture that image on canvas or even with a camera.  I even believe that my own words are insufficient to describe it.
    I walked along the edge of the sea, whose beautiful sound and light never ceased to amaze me.  The sound of the waves crashing on the shore has always held an appeal for me, but these waves only intensified that appeal.  As far as I could tell, the waves didn’t sound different, but I still felt even more fascinated by these glass waves than I did by any others I had seen.  The sand under my feet was smooth and cool.  I looked behind me and saw my footprints stretching into oblivion.  Had I really walked that far?  I didn’t honestly know.  Time seemed to not exist in this place.  I could focus on what fascinated me for as long as I liked without having to worry about anything else.
    In the distance in front of me, I saw a huge building.  It was made out of a stone that seemed to shift colors like the skins of the animals I had seen so long ago, but still fresh in my memory.  The building had many towers ending in points sticking up at seemingly random spacing.  As strange as that sounds, it really didn’t seem out of place.  If anything, it gave it an even more appealing and interesting look.  From where I was, I guessed it was about five miles wide and maybe twice that amount up.  I don’t know.  I just know it was gigantic to be a single structure.
    When I finally reached the gates, they seemed to be made out of pure pearl.  The pearl was strange, though.  It too seemed to shimmer and change colors all the time.  They were open and I walked in.  Suddenly it dawned on me.  I hadn’t seen a single other person for the entire time I had been here.  A place like this had to have been built by someone.  I walked into the courtyard of that beautiful palace.  At the far end of the courtyard was a door even bigger than the gate I had just come through.  But this door was closed.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to open a door of that size, but I walked up to it anyway.  On the door there was a huge inscription that said, “Enter.”
    I was perplexed.  How could someone my size open a door that humungous.  Just out of curiosity, I pushed on the door.  To my surprise, the door swung open at the lightest touch of my finger.  I peeked into the huge room that, to my surprise again, was not dark, but even lighter than outside.  It was so bright that I had to squint to see what was in the room.  Even like that I couldn’t see anything.  I walked in and stared at the wonder around me.  If I had thought that the other stones outside changed colors in the light, these were even more so.  The outside rocks seemed to merge from one color to another.  These jumped between colors so suddenly that my attention was held by every rock at the same time.  Well, that was what it was like for a split second.  After that, I saw the throne at the end of the room.
    The throne seemed to be made of solid gold.  It was different from everything else because it didn’t change color with the light, yet drew your attention even stronger than the other stones.  Sitting on the throne was the person I knew I would meet here someday.  His crown was a series of rainbows wrapped around each other in such a pattern that it could not be followed.  His eyes were fire that I could not endure to look at.  His robe also did not shimmer between colors, except for white and red.  At times the entire thing would look red, at others it would be completely white.
    I couldn’t stay on my feet before Him.  I fell down to the floor and lay prone.  There was nothing I could do.  I couldn’t think of anything but worshipping Him who was on the Throne.  Finally, he spoke.  His voice sounded like thunder so powerful it could break me.  I could feel it reverberate throughout the room.
    “Rise.”  He said commanding me.
    When I looked around me, I saw thousands, if not millions of people looking on from the sides.  They hadn’t been there before.  To my surprise, I recognized many of them.  They were smiling and laughing quietly, urging me on.  Finally, I got the courage to look at the Throne.  Though I was unworthy, he was smiling at me.
    “Well done,”  He said with his voice of raw power.  “Enter into the joy of your LORD.”
    With that, I saw a young boy run from behind the throne straight towards me.  I didn’t recognize him, but I knew I loved him from the very day I was born.  He was a child, but I knew he was older than I would ever hope to be.  He ran straight into my arms and hugged me tight.  I wrapped my arms around him trying to show the intensity of my love.  He put his mouth close to my ear and said, “I love you very much.”
    In that instant, my entire life meant something.  That was the only phrase I needed to hear.  Nothing else mattered anymore.  My Savior had told me that he loved me.  Me!  Who was nothing more than a common person hardly worthy of His notice.  The boy, who I now knew to be Jesus, stepped away and looked me in the eyes.
    “You were always worthy of my notice.”  He said seriously.  “Always.”
    With that, a mob of people swarmed over to where I was.  I recognized every single one of them and hugged them all.  The happiness and joy of meeting long-lost friends or family members cannot be rivaled by anything I knew before.  I was where I had been meant to be my entire life.  Nothing else needed to change.  I had reached Paradise.