Ghosts of the Shephelah, Book 4: Rebekah

By James K. Stewart

Rebekah's creativeness and perseverance in obtaining the blessing for Jacob was determined and powerful. This narrative creates a birth scene to equal her awesome entry into the world. Her adult life was far from normal, so an uncharacteristic childhood needed to set the stage for the many skills and abilities she possessed as an adult. The Bible states that Bethuel asked Rebekah to decide if she would become Isaac's wife. That scene is explosive with her fiery red hair, green eyes, and an outburst uncharacteristic of women of the time.

Over the twenty barren years that Rebekah waited to give birth, she became known as a midwife, healer, arbitrator, and counselor. The time to honor Rebekah as the servant of God has come. In this riveting story, you will get to know one of the most vibrant people in Scripture. No longer will a disobedient Isaac overshadow a faithful servant of the LORD. No longer will the frightened Jacob be seen as the deceiver. No longer will Rebekah be regarded as the obedient wife of Isaac but as the faithful servant of our LORD. Come, enjoy the exciting adventures of Rebekah.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Resource Publications
• Release date: Apr 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781666792690

James K. Stewart

James K. Stewart is a retired Presbyterian minister who has always believed that the Old Testament has helped him to understand the vital necessity of Christ Jesus. His many life experiences of construction worker; scuba instructor; screenplay writer and writer/director of many theatrical productions; and, in his retirement, golfer, have given him an in-depth appreciation that people--all people, regardless of race, creed, or color--suffer and enjoy the same human experiences.

Book preview

Introduction

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Shiphrah, one of the many Ghosts of the Shephelah. I had the privilege of being the midwife at the birth of one of the most amazing women in biblical history. It felt as if every soul in heaven was watching as the infant dropped into my hands, as; I cut the umbilical cord, slapped the tiny pink bottom. I could feel a sense of heavenly satisfaction as the baby’s first cries rang out. It was strange to feel an angelic presence encompass my being as I swaddled the child who was to have a part in the destiny of Israel.

Without any knowledge of the god of the Hebrew people, I felt a voice inside calling me to mentor this child. She was amazing. Wise beyond her years. I left this earthly life behind shortly after she left to be married. When I awoke, my soul drifted over a wedding tent. Rivkah, now known as Rebekah, emerged in a simple white gown and a pure white jasmine flower adorning her bright red hair. I was to become a witness to her life. Over time, our ghostly number grew—our destiny; to pass on eyewitness accounts of the history of the chosen people. Now, you may begin to understand why it falls to us, the sinners, the abused, the poor, and the midwives, to allow our spirits to roam the shephelah. Our ghosts drift over the lowlands between Beersheba and Megiddo, passing on the events we experienced through life and in death. My story begins at the birth of Rivkah.

Chapter 1

Birth to Betrothed

My name is Shiphrah (fair), the matriarch of all Hebrew midwives. Purposely exhibiting an ever-present mystic aura, men tend to keep their distance out of good old-fashioned superstition. As a matter of fact, men very rarely spoke to me. My dress constantly challenged the usual blah brown covering worn by Hebrew women. Bright oranges, yellows, and blues identified me in any crowd, large or small. Red beads in my hair, silver bracelets on my ankles, and wrists jingled whenever I walked. The fact is, men were even afraid to whisper their thoughts out of fear I might hear.

My worldly life was long and rewarding, but on my death, I was destined to roam the shephelah, with my sisters and brothers, as a ghost of the past. Accepting my fate, I delight in bringing my stories to all who will listen. During my life, it was a privilege to tutor one of the most amazing women I had ever known. Her Hebrew name is Rivkah (ensnarer), but over time, she became known as Rebekah. This is her story. It is a tale of an unknown god coming to a young woman, asking her to believe and remain faithful so that when the time came, she would be the one to ensure the fulfillment of God’s will.

Her story begins on the full moon of the month of Abib. I was called to Padan-Aram when several young women in the area were about to give birth. One of those women was twenty-six-year-old Yiskah, wife of fifty-year-old Bethuel, the son of Nahor. He and his brother Abraham were the sons of Terah. Having delivered, Yiskah’s first born son Laban ten years earlier, and without any problems, I was looking forward to an uneventful delivery. It was wishful thinking. Too many births were eventful, which is why they called for Shiphrah, the midwife. In labor from mid-afternoon, Yiskah grew more uncomfortable as day turned to night.

Standing on the traditional birthing bricks, two older women named Orna and Talia supported Yiskah on either side. Anat was close by, ready with the ritual knife. Keila held the rags necessary for clean up. Kneeling behind, a teenage girl named Yael prevented Yiskah from falling back. Bowls of warm wash water, clean rags, and a swaddling cloth awaited the arrival. Several traditional oil lamps, suspended within the tent, gave enough flickering light for the birthing of the tribe's newest child. Hair disheveled, face and body soaked with sweat, Yiskah's light cotton shift stuck to her shaking frame. Sitting directly in front of Yiskah, legs crossed, I was monitoring her dilating, listening to her erratic breathing, and watching the anguish grow in her eyes. The prominent bulge in Yiskah's shift revealed the source of anguish tearing at her from within. Placing my left hand on Yiskah's right knee to steady myself, my right hand reached under her shift to monitor changes in dilation.

Yiskah’s moaning increased with the size of her dilation. I continually instructed her to push. Over and over again, Push Yiskah, push! More moaning, grunts, and groans, followed by more encouragement. Finally, I announced, Yes, Yiskah, that's it, push hard, I can feel the child's head. I could see that Yiskah was in terrible agony, so I shouted once again, Push Yiskah, one more, Pussshhhhh.

Taking a deep breath, Yiskah let out a horrid scream, Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

At the exact moment the baby’s head hit my hand, a lengthily lightning flash in the night sky illuminated the tent's interior. Then, Crack as the lightning hit the ground not far from the red tent. Immediately following the lightning, long rolling thunder shook and frightened everyone in the tent and the village. Yiskah collapsed into the hands of Orna and Talia, who assisted her from the birthing bricks, and onto thick blankets. Yael was quick to place a big pillow under Yiskah's head.

Lifting the newborn child from beneath Yiskah's shift, I took the child by the ankles and slapped its bum!

Whaaa! Whaaa!

The long-awaited sound of a newborn cried out. I placed the child into the outstretched clean-up cloths offered by Keila. Anat passed the ritual knife to me. Orna and Keila finished washing the sweat from Yiskah's face and neck. Yael further propped her head and shoulders with another pillow. I cut and tied the umbilical cord and passed the baby to Keila. Watching Keila wash and swaddle the child, the anguish in Yiskah's eyes changed to anxious anticipation. Kneeling beside Yiskah, I said, "Your child, your child is a girl, a healthy girl," and watched the look of uncertain anticipation dissipate to that of joy.

Kneeling, I pulled the swaddling cloth away from the child's head, revealing a healthy baby girl with a tinge of red hair. I was so excited. I cried out, Your baby has red hair. Your baby is a gift from the gods. At the same time, while passing the baby to her mother, tears formed in everyone’s eyes.

Yiskah was, crying, blubbering, stammering, but still managed to say, Beautiful, my child is beautiful.

Looking closer, I agreed with Yiskah and said that my mother had told me of such children, children of destiny, a very special destiny. One day, it would be revealed to her by the gods.

Shocked, Orna blurted out, Look! She has fire in her eyes. Her eyes are green.

Yiskah looked closer, saying,Yes, her eyes are beautiful. Looking at each woman in the tent, I spoke slowly, Green eyes. I've never seen green eyes.

Talia, bursting with joy, asked, Shall I take the child to Bethuel so that he can name her?

Then something else happened that I’d never heard before or known to happen, Yiskah retorted sharply, No! Everyone gasped. Instinctively I smiled and waited for the shock to subside. Yiskah continued, "You may take my child to Bethuel, but the child's name is to be . . . Rebekah!"

Everyone gasped again.

Talia offered in a worried voice, But there is no one in your family by that name. Surely Bethuel will want to name the child after his mother.

Yiskah spoke firmly. No! as I stroked Rebekah’s cheek with my hand and told her that there would never be another like Rebekah, ever. Orna told me later that my voice changed as I began speaking softly. She said I sounded like an oracle articulating a prophetic word.

I said, Rebekah will be wise and strong; she will cause much heartache, and no man will ever have dominion over her. Then I did something that frightened everyone