"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." ~~Lao Tzu

Hi all,

Welcome to the second edition of the second Valentine's tradition.  For a number of years, the annual Dyeland story featured Andrew and JenniAnn, separately or together, interviewing their friends about types of love.  Naturally, that got a bit stale after a few years.  So I've moved onto writing vignettes.  The first round can be found in JABB 456.  With this one, I decided to go with a past, present, future theme.  So we have a tale from 33 AD, this year, and 2035.  I hope you enjoy and I hope your week ahead is filled with love!

God bless,
Jenni




Tzipora woke up to the same ragged grief that she had fallen asleep with.  Beside her, Micah, her husband stirred.  Just as a sob overcame her, he wrapped his arms around her.

"Shh... shh... best beloved.  He is at peace now, resting with Abraham, Isaaq, and Jaqob.  With Yosef, too.  And Yohannan."

Tzipora shook her head.

"But... but what he went through..."

Micah's own eyes filled with tears.  The couple's eyes had seldom been dry since word had come from Jerusalem that morning.  News of Yeshua ben Yosef's crucifixion had been the talk of Nazareth.  Many had scoffed and cursed "the blasphemer."  Others had sighed and shook their heads, remembering a kind young man who had gone wrong.  There were a few, like Tzipora and Micah, who hid in their homes and mourned their friend... the one they had believed was the messiah.

"Maybe... maybe it would have been different if... if we had stayed with Yeshu.  At least then... then I could be a comfort to Maryam."  Tzipora moaned as she thought of the woman, bereft of her son. 

Micah thought back to the day, weeks before, when Yeshua had dismissed him and Tzipora and their children from among his traveling band of followers.  He had told them that he wanted them to bring his good news back to Nazareth.  Micah did not doubt the messiah's intentions but he wondered if they had been twofold.  Perhaps he had wanted Tzipora far away when he was arrested, tortured, and crucified.

"Let us think on happier times," Micah suggested.  "I think it would do us both good, Tzipora.  Tell me again about the first time you spoke to Yeshua."

Through her tears, Tzipora gave a faltering smile.

"It... it started just outside the synagogue.  About a fortnight after my family and I had come here.  Some other girls were teasing me.  I cannot even remember what their unkind words were about but I was crushed.  Sobbing, I began to run home and nearly collided with Yeshua.  As it was, I made him spill the logs he had been carrying.  I was terribly embarrassed but he merely blamed himself for being clumsy.  Then he told me not to mind what Elisheba and Naamah said.  He said their mother was very ill and they spoke from pain.  My nose!  It was my nose.  They said I looked like a swine, unclean," Tzipora recalled.

Micah tapped his wife's slightly upturned nose.

"I think you have a lovely nose."

Tzipora smiled.

"Thank you.  I... I was so flustered that it was only later I came to wonder how Yeshua knew.  He had been coming from the opposite direction.  Later, I would decide that maybe he had heard Elisheba and Naamah speaking of me before and made a good guess.  Now... now I wonder.  I... I never asked him.  I should have asked him but now..."

As Tzipora's body once again racked with sobs, Micah embraced her.  In the silence, he went over his own memories of the carpenter.  He recalled the dedication which Yeshua had brought to ensuring the furniture that Micah commissioned for his and Tzipora's house was the finest possible.  Micah had not known then that Yeshua had loved Tzipora.  He had not imagined the pain etched and pounded into every detail.  That knowledge had only come later from a drunken Lazar after Yosef's burial.  A few tears slid down Micah's cheeks as he thought of the selflessness.  Now, Yeshua had taken that selflessness so very far... to the cross... to the grave...

Grasping for relief from the blackness of grief, Micah carried on the story for his wife.

"The next morning, you went to the well as you usually did to draw water for your mother.  You filled the two skins and, when you stood back up, you saw something on the wall of the well... something that you knew had not been there before."

"A wooden lily," Tzipora remembered.

"And you saw Yeshua hurrying away."

"I did.  I... I should have known, Micah.  I should have known it was more than kindness.  Not that... that I could have...  I loved you so."  Tzipora stroked her husband's beard.  "But I should have been kinder, paid him more mind..."

"You might have only wounded him more, best beloved.  And whatever wound there was... I believe it healed long ago.  Yeshua told me once how much it meant to him that we believed in him, we followed him.  So many here came to revile him... they tried to kill him.  Even some of his brothers and sisters turned away.  But you believed.  And, through you, the children and I came to believe.  Whatever ache remained in his heart from when we were barely more than children... I believe that healed it."

"Truly?" Tzipora asked hopefully.

"Truly."

"I hope so...  He... he did not deserve so much pain...  My God... my God... why?" Tzipora cried.

Micah clasped his wife to him and held her as she cried herself to sleep.  He had no answer.  The same question plagued him and he fell asleep with it echoing in his mind.


There was a brief, blissful moment when Tzipora woke up to a soft breeze, sunshine, and birds singing.  Then the memories of the previous day returned to her, bringing the soul-deep ache back.  She tried to suppress it.   She had a husband and children to tend to.  She rose and dressed then picked up two skins.

"Wait.  I will go with you."

Tzipora turned back to find Micah rousing.

"I can go alone," Tzipora countered.

"I think it would be best if you waited for me," Micah insisted.

The reason for her husband's insistence came to Tzipora.  He did not want her alone at the well, alone to hear the gossip and snide remarks about Yeshua.

"Yes.  You are right," Tzipora admitted.

In little time, Micah was ready.  They checked on their children and, finding them still asleep, made their way to the well.  They were relieved to find that no one was there.  Silently, they each took a skin and bent to fill them.  When they stood, Tzipora gasped.

"What is it?"

"There..."

Micah looked to where his wife pointed.

There, on the wall of the well, was a fresh lily.

Tzipora wept as she picked the flower up.

A chuckle sounded from some yards off and the couple turned to see a man running away.  They abandoned the skins of water and made chase, wanting to know who he was and what he knew of the lily.  To their great surprise, the man ducked into Maryam's house.

The couple's rage at this indignity spurred them on and soon they, too, entered the home.

"Stop it!  Go no further!" Micah shouted as he and Tzipora entered and found themselves staring at the man's back.  "Turn around."

The breath left them both when the man raised his hands revealing pierced wrists. 

"Shalom, Tzipora.  Shalom, Micah," Yeshua greeted with a glowing smile.

The couple remained stunned, unable to move or speak.

Yeshua drew closer and kissed their cheeks.

"I am the resurrection and the life.  Death... true death... is no more."  Yeshua took Tzipora's hands in his.  "The life you have lived is the life I wished for you.  Be at peace with that, Tzipora."  He released one of the woman's hands and took one of Micah's.  "Be at peace, Micah.  Know that I love you both.  Tell the world of my love, of the love of the Father.  And know that I will be with you always."

"Yeshu..."

At last finding her voice, Tzipora embraced him.  Micah followed and the three wept joyous tears.

"I must go now," Yeshua murmured after several moments.  "Please, tell my brothers and sisters that you have seen me... spoken to me."

"We.. we will," Micah vowed.

"We will," Tzipora echoed.

Yeshua beamed at the two, a brilliant light permeating from him.  He became one with the light and disappeared into it, his final words lingering.

"Thank you.  I love you."

The light faded, taking Yeshua with it.

"It was true... all true," Micah uttered, wonder evident in his voice.

Giddy, Tzipora laughed.

"Look at your lily."

Tzipora turned towards the flower which she had dropped to the floor after the surprise of seeing Yeshua.  From the single stem, two more flowers had bloomed for a total of three.  As she held the flowers, Tzipora had a feeling that, one day, she would know the meaning behind such a miracle.  For now, she had the miracle she needed most and she would treasure it in her heart along with the memories of the boy who had once loved her... a boy who had grown into a man who loved the whole world.