Warrior Poet by Timothy J. Stoner

Author:Timothy J. Stoner
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Fiction, David, Goliath, Shepherd, Saul, Courage, Faith
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2014-01-14T16:00:00+00:00

18 Psalm 98:5

19 Psalm 5:1–3, author’s paraphrase

20 Psalm 2:1–3, author’s paraphrase

21 Psalm 2:4–5

22 Psalm 3:7–8; 2:10–12, author’s paraphrase

Chapter Seventeen

The acclaim was gratifying and confusing. While a part of David enjoyed it, another part felt ashamed—as if he were being praised for someone else’s triumph. The longer it lasted, the more uncomfortable he became. Suddenly, all he wanted was to disappear among the men and be forgotten.

He was halfway to his feet when he heard something that made him freeze. Jahra had strummed an emphatic introduction on his harp, and everyone sat down as if on command. The soldiers were drawing their cloaks around themselves as the evening grew cooler.

A few simple notes followed, these more quiet and thoughtful. It sounded like Jahra was strumming a lullaby—a song that a mother might play to soothe a restless child. David closed his eyes as he let the notes carry him away.

His eyes flew open when he heard his friend begin to sing. And the words were the same ones David had heard as the ravenous bear charged up the hill toward them.

“Adonai ro-i, lo ira ra.”

The Lord is my shepherd; no evil shall I fear.

He was sure he had not spoken them aloud. Did Jahra hear them as well?

Jahra repeated the lyrical phrase several times, his unused voice awkward yet quickly becoming more resonant, its roughness an interesting contrast to the tender tune. His body swayed with the rhythm. Not content with the introductory rhyme, he began again.

“Adonai ro-i, lo-ehsar.”

Yahweh is my shepherd; I lack nothing.23

His confidence increasing with each word, Jahra sang out a child’s song of comfort and confidence. Stillness blanketed the encampment. Crackling fires lent support to the words of a song that was causing more than one man to wipe his cheeks.

“Bin-ot desheh yarbitzayni.”

In meadows of green grass He lets me lie.

“Al may m’nuchot y’nahalayni.”

To the waters of repose He leads me.

“Nafshi y’shovayv.”

There He revives my soul.24

Jahra ran a pensive hand over the fourteen strings, waiting for the next phrase to come. In the quiet interlude, David felt the song bubble out:

“Yanchayni v’ma-g’lay tzedek …”

He guides me by paths of virtue …

“… l’ma-an sh’mo.”

… for the sake of His name.25

Without missing a beat, Jahra continued the thought:

“Gam ki aylaych b’gay tzalmaves …”

Though I pass through the valley of death …

“…lo ira ra ki atah imadi.”

… I fear no harm, for You are beside me.

“Shivt’cha umish-antecha, haymah y’nachamuni.”

Your rod and staff are there to hearten me.26

Jahra’s pace was slowing. He was taking longer pauses between words, as if he were running out of breath. David did not want to look at his friend, afraid he might lose his composure. Unexpectedly, he felt tears stinging his eyes.

Jahra grew quiet, still strumming. David realized that his friend was waiting for him. A few measures, and the next stanza took shape. He sang, dredging hope from the depths of his own experience.

“Ta-aroch l’fanai shulchan …”

You prepare a table before me …

“… neged tzor’roy.”

… under the eyes of my enemies.

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