GUARD SHEERAH

Today's post was written by Gail Kittleson

His daughter was Sheerah. She built Lower and Upper Beth Horon and Uzzen Sheerah               (I Chronicles 7:24, MSG)

Cursory research reveals little about Sheerah, daughter of Beriah, the son of Ephriam. But we do know she took her inheritance seriously. I wonder if she prayed the same prayer Jabez did (see chapter four.)

Jabez overcame the name his mother gave him (Oh, the pain!) after a rough childbirth. It seems Sheerah had some family pain to overcome, too. Her grandfather Ephraim grieved at length over his first sons, cattle rustlers killed by the natives of Gath.

He named his next son Beriah (Unlucky) because of all his bad luck. “Unlucky” became Sheerah’s father, who must have given her an inheritance, because we’re told she did something with it.

Commentators differ on the meaning of “built.” Because of the time frame, Sheerah could not have

physically built these cities, most agree on that. But her descendants did, and that means she taught them a thing or two. And it's important to realize that build can be taken as enlarged or fortified.

The cities, located on the tribe’s border, had been destroyed when the Israelites took them from the Canaanites. Joshua 16 locates Ephraim’s territory in the area still inhabited by Israel’s enemies after Joshua’s
victories. Hum . . . so the enlarging and fortifying may have been challenged. Sheerah’s descendants stuck to their goal, though, since the biblical record claims they completed their tasks.

Receiving an inheritance was rare for a daughter—maybe Beriah saw in Sheerah the qualities necessary to build, fortify, and enlarge. Maybe her tenacity stood out to him. Or perhaps, like Zelophehad’s five daughters, who petitioned Moses for their father’s inheritance, Sheerah had the courage to ask for an inheritance.

It’s all speculation, but Sheerah’s short story provides fodder for our writing lives. Well into life’s second half, my take is from an older writers perspective--we have so much to “make the most of”—all of our varied experiences, a wealth of analyzing ourselves, others, and situations, and our present day-to-day journey, too.

Nothing kept Sheerah’s descendants from enlarging and fortifying what they possessed. Probably they faced enemies who had other plans for their three towns, but they persevered. Duke Ellington said, “A problem is your chance to do your best.”

Today, let’s go for it!

WHAT'S IN A NAME? (1 Chronicles 1)

Adam, Seth, Enosh, Kenan, MAHALALEL, Jared, Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech, Noah (1 Chronicles 1:1-4)

After finishing 2 Kings yesterday, with its sad ending of Judah joining Israel in exile. 1 Chronicles takes us back to the beginning--all the way back, to the first man. Chronicles continues the names and lines of Jewish tribes, making it possible for post-exile Jews to affirm their Jewish identity.

Important, personal records--but also boring.

So imagine my surprise when five words into the first chapter, in between all those names I do recognize (Adam, Seth, Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech, Noah), I run across Mahalalel. 

You see, recently I have undertaken a study of popular boy's and girl's names throughout U.S. History. One appeared during Colonial times through the early nineteenth century which I had never heard before: Mahala.

Not exactly the same name, but close enough to suggest they come from the same root word. Biblical names were very common in colonial times, but Mahala didn't sound like any name I had ever heard before.

So I looked up the girl's name, Mahala. Its origins are uncertain: in eastern Europe, it's a last name (or maybe that was Mahalalel) referring to a community or neighborhood. There is even a town named Mahala in Texas.

Several sites trace "Mahala" to Cherokee roots, where the name means "woman."

Community. Woman. Great building blocks.

Even the Hebrew word has different meanings, either tenderness or barenness. Since I doubt any parent would name their child "barren," I suspect they meant "tenderness."

If we combined all the meanings, we might have a woman characterized by tenderness who lives in a recognizable, vibrant community. A lovely meaning.

I've always been fascinated. As a child I hated my name: Darlene Hope (Sparks). I know that "hope" came from "now abideth these three, faith, hope and charity, but the greatest of these is charity." When I learned that Darlene means "beloved," I rejoiced in the blessing my parents had given me in my name: beloved hope. What greater gifts could they give to me, than the security of love and the motivation of hope?

I might just have to write that Boston tea party story and name my heroine Mahala.

A GOD FAR AWAY (2 Kings 25)

Judah went into exile, orphaned from her land. (2 Kings 25)

Orphan: deprived of such protection or advantage

This is one of those interesting little verses.

Judah went into exile. Judah is the subject, being forcibly removedfrom her native country. So this means the people of Judah, not the land inside its borders.

Orphaned from her land. We associate orphan with the loss of parents; but for the people of Judah, separation from the land was worse than losing a parent.

In a time and culture connected "God" with their land, leaving their homes almost felt like leaving God.  No wonder God told Jeremiah (who was among the people left in Jerusalem) reminded them, "Am I only a God nearby, and not a God far away?" (P,S. That's a nugget from a study I did on the questions that God asks us. Look at them some time.)

They had left their God. . .or so some of them felt.

They had left the land promised to them by God. Those who didn't believe they left God might have felt God had left them.

Whatever protection or advantage that Judah had from living in the country where God had chosen to dwell. . . gone. Stripped. They had seen God perform miracles over and over again, but none of Josiah's descendants had the same faith he did, to stall exile for a few more years. They had filed their final appeal, and the court had ruled against them.

You know, come to think of it, I could feel "orphaned" here in the nursing home. It certainly isn't my promised land.

But instead, this space has become a place of blessing for me. Abundant, packed down and flowing over. (in between bouts of pain and allergies, that is. or in spite of.)

And Babylon became like that for Judah, as well. The end of 2 Kings (chapter 25) reports that Jehoichin, Judah's final king, was released from prison and was given a higher place of honor in exile.

God is indeed a God far away, the one true God whom the exiles learned to obey in meticulous detail. (all 613 rules)

JOSIAH'S JIHAD (2 Kings 23)

Today has been an exceptionally bad difficult day. So let's see if I can make any sense.

At least I get to talk about one of my favorite Bible heroes, Josiah (I even named a character after him, Josiah Tuttle in Prodigal Patriot) . He led Judah in national repentance that postponed exile for his people during his lifetime.

Like Joash, Josiah became king as a child. However, Joash only obeyed God as long as his uncle lived. Josiah took his first steps toward serving God as an adult of twenty-six. He instructed the priests to repair the temple.  Since all idol worship had been brought to the temple, he may have worshipped idols in addition to or instead of God.

Whomever he worshipped before the repairs, his heart for God becomes clear when the priest found the book of the Law. He led his people in national repentance and renewed commitment. He celebrated Passover for the first time since the judges. And he destroyed all the idols and Asherah poles.

Then he went on a Jihad. He tore down the golden calves at Bethel and continued through Samaria, smashing the hilltop shrines and Asherah poles.  By then, Samaria was no longer an independent country, but part of the Assyrian empire. Perhaps the Assyrians didn't care about the destruction of local shrines, but I wonder how the Israelites who were left felt about what
Josiah did.

In other words, Josiah went on the rampage, deciding that the people of Israel as well as of Judah, should worship Jehovah God in Jerusalem. The kind of thing that militant Muslims do today and that Christians have tried in another time (remember the Inquisition? The Crusades?) He stopped with Samaria (Israel), however. He didn't impose the law on anyone other than the original twelve tribes.

Of course, from a biblical perspective, Israelites were God's chosen people every bit as much as the people of Judah, and even when God split the kingdom in half, He still intended for the northern kingdom to worship at the one Temple.  Instead, Jeroboam I built golden calves in Samaria, and Josiah was the first king of Judah to do something about it.

Unfortunately, Josiah's reform came too late, and his son reverted to idolatry as soon as his father was in the ground.

I should be excited about this story. Plenty of drama, a strong hero, a lot at stake . . .

But my mind instead is taken up with everyday concerns. I am in bone-grinding pain, nearly 24/7, for several days now.

And my friends have it even worse than I do. One person's husband lost his job right after she quit hers. Another friend confessed she has been having an affair. Here at the nursing home, one of our sweet guys died last night--leaving a woman who was as devoted to him as a wife. Her grasp on reality is tenuous at best; I hate to see her go through this.

I admire Josiah, and rightly so. But I am so very thankful I don't live in his time, and that we live in a country with religious freedom. Josiah could influence his people to worship God--but still, they chose between righteousness and sin every day of their lives.

I am thankful that God has called me to influence my small world. That my friend struggling with sin felt free to tell me, knowing I would listen, that I would lecture her on her sins but encourage her to do well.  I am thankful that my ministry tends to mercy and not to judgment. That I am me, and not Josiah.

At the same time, I thank God for the Josiahs--and pray for more of them.

Pride's Fall*

Hezekiah was like David in more ways than one. Both of them, late in their reigns, made a mistake that smacked of pride and led to disastrous results for Judah.

We spent some time discussing David's decision to have Joab number the army.  Hezekiah's mistake was more subtle. The king of Babylon sent his son to wish Hezekiah well after his recent illness. And Hezekiah showed off, giving him "a guided tour of all his prized possessions."

God sent Hezekiah a message through Isaiah (yes, the same Isaiah who wrote the book of the Bible). Babylon would take everything Hezekiah prized so highly, and his sons' progeny (grandsons? greatgrandsons?) would become eunuchs in the palace of Babylon.

Looking at everything other kings had done, Hezekiah's error seems so small. He didn't worship idols. Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he valued his things over God. Instead of bragging on his God to the envoy, he bragged on his things. After all, God had healed him from a deathly illness and given him fifteen additional years of life. Yet instead of talking about that, he showed off his palace.

I played piano in churches for many years, and felt uncomfortable when people praised my playing. For a long time, I would say something like "praise the Lord." But that felt like I was rejecting the gift God had given to me. God's gift, returned to Him. So I would simply say "thank you." In music, I have seen God clearly use in ways beyond my limited abilities.

In some ways, writing is one of the most solitary professions. But I have, with delight and pride, watched my resume grow from one page--to five.  My first book has multiplied, to where I need more than one drawer to hold a single copy of each volume.  When I invite people to look, am I indulging in the same pride that caused Hezekiah's fall?

Where does a healthy self-esteem and joy in my God-given gifts end and pride begin?

I challenge you to ask yourself the same question.


*Pride's Fall is the title of my historical romance set in Mesa Verde, Colorado, in 1900

BETTER THAN DAVID!

In the twelfth year of Ahaz king of Judah, Hoshea son of Elah became king of Israel. He ruled in Samaria for nine years. As far as God was concerned, he lived a bad life, but not nearly as bad as the kings who had preceded him. (2 Kings 17:1-2, MSG)

Hezekiah put his whole trust in the God of Israel. there was no king quite like him, either before or after. He held fast to God--never loosened his grip--and obeyed to the letter everything God had commanded Moses. And God, for his part, held fast to him through all his adventures. (2 Kings 18:5-6, MSG)

The two kings I've quoted above are unusual in all the records of the kings of Israel and Judah. Can you guess what it is?

Hmm. Hoshea had the misfortune of ruling Israel at the time her sins came home and she was taken into exile in Assyria. I say "misfortune." This record suggests Hoshea wasn't bad, as far as Israel's kings went. He is one of the few (the only one?) who wasn't compared to Jeroboam I, the king who set Israel on the path to sin. If God graded on a curve, instead of pass/fail, Hoshea might have managed a C.

On the other side, Hezekiah was compared to David favorably. The author goes so far as to say, "There was NO KING quite like him."  Not even David! Hezekiah also took the final step that the earlier "good" kings had failed to do: he smashed the altars to Baal and the Asherah poles.

Of David and Hezekiah, I think Hezekiah had the harder job at following God's laws. Imagine Americans trying to go back to 1776 and living by the laws and cultural mores of the times.

Of course, he might have relied on the wisdom of the priests to understand what the laws looked like in his time, much as we have the Supreme Court to help us interpret the Constitution.

Still--he was a traditionalist bucking the trend. I'm sure people opposed his reforms.

I'm a person who will rarely rate anything a 10 (or a 1).  I'm not comfortable with extremes.  But look at the extremes used to describe Hezekiah:

• He put his WHOLE trust in the Lord. 
• He NEVER loosened his grip on God.
• He obeyed EVERYTHING God commanded Moses

(By the way, I doubt he was that perfect, but he would have received an A+ on a curve.)

Instead of bemoaning the state of the nation in his day, Hezekiah set about changing it. Of course, he was king. He wielded influence we can only imagine. 

But . . . we can't let the daunting task before us keep us from attempting the impossibly difficult. Like Hezekiah, we have the same responses available to us. We can trust God, we can hold on to God, and we can do His will. 

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Family Trees and Gnarled Branches (2 Kings 15-16)

This post is written by Ava Pennington.  Note from Darlene: Isn't God great to give us this post on Mother's Day?

What kind of family legacy did you inherit? Are your parents and grandparents examples of godly men and women, or are you burdened with a discouraging or sinful legacy?

Just because you and I have a parent or grandparent who lived a sinful lifestyle doesn’t mean you have to follow in his or her footsteps. But the reverse is also true. The godliest parents in the world cannot guarantee their children will also live a God-honoring life.

In II Kings 15-16, we read of several kings in Israel and Judah. Good kings such as Azariah (15:3) and Jotham (15:34) tried to do “what was right in the eyes of the Lord.” They weren’t completely successful, since they allowed sites of pagan worship to remain throughout the land. However, their descendent, Ahaz, didn’t just tolerate pagan worship, he fully participated in it. He even sacrificed his own child by fire (II Kings 16:3-4).

What could his ancestors have done to prevent Ahaz’s wrong decisions? Nothing. Then, as now, people were accountable for their own choices. Of course, we can be influenced by our family legacy, but those influences do not eliminate our individual, personal responsibility. After reading about Ahaz’s moral depths, we might conclude that his descendants would be morally equal to or worse than their father. Yet, Ahaz’s son, Hezekiah, is one of the brighter spots in Judah’s kingly history (18:3).

The branches of your family tree and mine may be gnarled and shameful, or they may be healthy and fruitful. Either way, as Christ-followers, we have the power of the Holy Spirit dwelling within us to live in a way that lifts up the name of Jesus and gives glory to our heavenly Father. Regardless of those who came before us, the choice is ours.

Ava Pennington is a writer, Bible teacher, and speaker.

She is the author of One Year Alone with God: 366 Devotions on the Names of God, endorsed by Kay Arthur. She is co-author of Faith Basics for Kids, including      Will I See You Today? and the award-winning Do You Love Me More? Daily Reflections on the Names of God: A Devotional will be released by Revell Books in October, 2013.

Ava has also written for numerous magazines such as Today’s Christian Woman and Focus on the Family’s Clubhouse, and contributed to more than twenty anthologies, including sixteen Chicken Soup for the Soul books.

Visit her website: www.AvaWrites.com.