Rekekah leaving home

It was a loud crack of a kitchen pot dropping. I must have dozed off for half an hour from the entire night of tossing and turning. My normal fluffy and comfortable bed offered me no solace this time around. I had awoken feeling more tired than if I had not dozed off. I spent the cool night thinking about the warm farewell party the night before, and the numerous hugs and well wishes I received. Last night many tears have flowed, but I wasn’t sure they were tears of sadness to see me go or tears of joy for a new chapter in my life unfolding or even both.

My heart is heavy, my body numbed, and I seemed to have a grasshopper hopping in my stomach providing uneasiness, discomfort every other minute, and endless pain that permeates my entire body.

The sun is not up yet and won’t be for another hour or two. I realized that the sound from the kitchen, was mama feverishly preparing a favourite dish to accompany my journey. She had wanted me to sleep in and not to help her as preannounced the night before. I lit a candle which quickly lights up every corner of my room. I stared at my packed bag, and run my hand through my soft dress and scarf. I am leaving home, the thought sank deep. I can’t help but feel that every item in my bag reminds me of a part of me here. Even more odd is that I know that a strange bend of a branch that I will see elsewhere will bring to thought the ladle mama uses in the kitchen. Likewise, a smoothened surfaced rock will remind me of the small flat dressing table that papa had it made for me when I was 12. To see a high forehead of a stranger will immediately bring to mind papa’s maidservant. The sight of a lily will bring images of papa gathering a bunch of lilies on the sideboard every Wednesdays.

Admittedly leaving home for the first time is hard, painfully hard. What more leaving papa, mama, and Laban my brother. They are awesomely gracious to me, for I know they are acting brave, and remaining strong for my sake.

I had secretly and partially wished that mama or papa would have objected to allowing me to follow this stranger back. He said he was sent by his master to seek for a wife for his son. Frankly, I didn’t know giving him and his 10 filthy and stinking camels water to be nourished was in fact a selection criteria. How odd! A serious and noble decision based on a simple act. Any lady would have done that simple gesture.

At the party last night I heard whispers of accusation against my parents judgment in believing such simplistic story of a wife seeking entourage. They shrudded at the thought of a beauty maiden in the hands of a total stranger. And the only collateral he had was a reference to a great uncle whom we had not seen in ages. Anyone could have played up that story for evil gain.

Truth be told, I actually believed his story. Maybe it was the intensity that he told it and the excitement seen in his eyes without dropping from ours once. But more importantly I believed the story of the God of my great uncle who tries to weave his hand in my great uncle’s life and promised him a nation as many as the sand of the sea. Ironically a father of many offspring cannot find a wife for his son. My family requested that I stayed a further 10 days to ensure our goodbyes were long and complete. However, the servant pleaded otherwise. I was surprised I was given to right to arbitrate over it. I chose to go immediately. If you have seen that pair of eyes, you would have understood why.

Sure, I would be lying if I said I have never thought how the son looked. Would he be handsome? Wouldn’t it be every girls dream of marrying one? What about romance? Would he be ugly? Would he be strong or would he be frail, with his two front teeth protruding out even when lips are sealed. Would he have a high & sharp nose, bright eyes, and long wavy soft hair. Would he treat me and my maids well? Would he be gentle, kind, loving and caring? Would he be a spoiled brat of a millionaire’s son that you know so well about? Frankly I am not sure, my heart is stirred with anticipation and soured with fear. I am entrust it to the greater Scheme of things. The Lord of Abraham my great uncle will surely make it well even if things are considered unwell for me.

Mama has taught me well socially among many things. I consoled myself to think that I shall never be lonely even if I was alone. I am well liked and I draw friends like bees to honey. My personality ensures that I relate to people well. What a blessing to have!

Now I am about to be thrusted into the future. My fears of the unknown, of a new environment and surrounding, of a new schedule to keep, of the transition from a lady to a women, of the new role I am set to play, and of serving a total stranger and pleasing a man who’s personality I know not, sends a shiver down my spine.

However, at the same time, I have a strong hunch that this feelings are actually blessings dressed in the clothes of fear. I am at the dawn of a new morning, of a journey, of an adventure, of possibilities, of new friendships, of new relationships, of new challenges, of new trust in my faith, and of an encounter with the God of my great uncle Abraham, where fears are only a precursor, an onion for me to peel to get to the blessing, and a small membrane for my blessing to break free from and avail itself and to be experienced in fullness.

“Rebekah”, I heard mama called me, breaking the silence, “its time for your blessed transition to begin.” Perhaps that sums up everything about leaving home.

Glory be to the God of Abraham!