Plights Of A Patriarch
by Andy Wilkinson
A SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright 2011 by Andy Wilkinson
Plights Of A Patriarch
Abraham stood and poked the fire with his staff. “This is not going to go over well,” he said and began pacing around the fire pit. He looked up into the darkness and said, “This is not going to go over well at all!”
“Abraham! Come on to bed, it’s getting late.”
Abraham turned toward the tent, “Sarah, I’m trying to talk to God, okay. Go back inside and go to sleep.”
“Can’t you finish in the morning? I hate it when you two argue like this.”
“Sarah … I said I’m busy right now. I’ll be coming to bed in a few minutes.
Have a cup of wine, or goat’s milk or something, and go back to bed.”
Again Abraham looked into the night sky, “How am I going to tell them about this? What can I possibly say that will make this sound like a good idea?”
He sat on a rock and looked down at the desert sand. “Do you realize what our lives have been like while trying to do your will …? We’ve been at war with every little tribe in every direction. You tell us to go fight … we go fight, okay, fine. We’ve suffered drought and famine, and we’ve wandered aimlessly in the desert for years looking for water and pasture land.”
Abraham stood again and raised his voice into the night, “Some of our women and children have been stolen from us and forced to work as slaves.”
“Abe … honey …!
“Sarah, please!” He turns to look at her.
“In a minute!”
He looks up to God and lets out a long hard sigh. “And now … after all that we have gone through for You …” Abraham motions to his groin with both hands, “now You’re telling me that You want us to cut off the end of our—“
“Abe … come on!”
“Okay, okay.” He starts for the tent, “This is NOT going to go over well at all!”