The Apostle’s Sister by Angela Hunt

Author:Angela Hunt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biblical Fiction;FIC042090;FIC042110;FIC027140
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2022-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

Aya

I was never so happy to return home. I nursed the baby and put him to bed, then set out the simple meal I had prepared for our festival dinner. Avidan was content to sit and eat, for he had not been as upset by the Galilean as Sha’ul.

My brother sat at the table with his hands folded, his head lowered, and his eyes closed. Not even the barley cakes, stuffed grapevine leaves, and lamb stew could snap him out of his dark mood.

Sighing, I wondered if HaShem had been merciful to take Bettina and her son from my brother’s home. I knew Sha’ul. Once he determined to achieve a goal, he cared for little else, and apparently he had set his mind against Simon Peter.

When Sha’ul left a short while later, he stalked away like a man on a mission. I watched him go, fearing he would set himself on an irreversible course. I had waited years for an opportunity to establish a relationship with my brother. We were closer than we had ever been, but if he went to Galilee in order to pursue this fisherman, would I lose him?

Avidan helped me understand Sha’ul’s obsession. “He is looking for something new,” he told me when I went back into the house. “He wanted to become a scholar; he became one of the best. He wanted to sit on the Sanhedrin; he is the youngest to attain that honor. Now he needs to apply his authority and knowledge to a new cause.”

“I hate to see him so upset.” I reached for the platter of uneaten barley cakes. “He has no appetite when he is unhappy.”

Avidan grunted. “He would be happy to rid Jerusalem of Yeshua’s followers.”

“He will have a time of it. The people we saw today were bold and unafraid.”

“Yet people can sincerely believe a lie,” Avidan said. “Look at the Romans, who worship gods of iron and stone with complete devotion. Their belief cannot empower false gods, but can a false god give men the power to speak languages they have never heard?”

I lifted a brow, surprised by his comment. “Would you defend these people?”

He shrugged. “I have no wish to defend them, but as you said, they did not appear drunk, foolish, or deluded. I cannot believe the Nazarene was the son of HaShem, but neither can I say he had no power. He healed people. And apparently his spirit has given them the ability to speak in languages they never learned.”

I did not know how to respond, so I shook my head and nibbled at the meal Sha’ul would not touch.

Over the next few months I focused on my child, my husband, and our home. Seraiah was a delight, and I marveled at each new smile, his ability to turn over, and the way he clung to my finger. Avidan often came home early to play with the baby. We would lie on the bed with Seraiah between us, amazed that HaShem had blessed us with such an amazing child.

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