My country was at war, and I was not there to help! In the past fifty years it seemed as though our nation was ALWAYS at war. Actually to say that we were “at war” was probably a rather large exaggeration; we were actually being systematically annihilated by the powerful Ammonites.
Even though I had been exiled from the country of my birth, I was able to send one of my own spies south to look over the situation. He had arrived back just the night before, and as I held the scroll asking me to come home, in my hand, I knew I needed to hear from him.
“Call Micah and ask him to report to me at once.” I said to my valet.
“Has he gotten back from Rabbah yet?”
“He got in last night, and that’s what I need to talk to him about.”
“When do you want him to report?”
It wasn’t ten minutes later that Micah, my most experienced spy, sat in my tent. “What did you find in Rabbah?”
“I don’t think there is any way that Gilead will be able to resist their attack!”
“And why is that?”
“From my lookout to the west I saw two divisions of archers, a division of charioteers, and at least three divisions of swordsmen.”
“Are you sure?”
“I watched them going through exercises on three different occasions. There could easily be 300,000 warriors in the valley south of the capital!”
This confirmed my worst fears. It was no wonder that the leaders of Gilead were making such sweeping promises to me. They needed someone to lead the army.
I had been exiled from the country, and - as one of the best warriors the country had - I felt a certain amount of responsibility to the country of my birth. I’m not being cocky or proud in saying that I was one of the best, the simple fact was - at that time, our country was not really known for its warriors.
Throughout our history we had always been the whipping boys of the earth. As a result, we were not at our peak as far as developing our fighting skills as warriors. I had no doubt that I would have been a big help in this struggle if I had been there, but I had been content to stay away because of the circumstances surrounding my exile. Now this letter had arrived and I was not sure what to make of it. The letter indicated that the very people who had wanted me out of the way, were now wanting my help!
What was I to do? Did I have a responsibility to those who had forced me away from my home? Could I sit by and allow my home to be destroyed? These were the questions I was searching for an answer to; but maybe you need to hear my story before you can understand the struggle I was having.