Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) by Jill Smith Page A

will make sure you find a safe resting place. May Adonai bless you, and may His face be turned toward you, to bring His promises to pass.”
    “Thank you, Eliezer.” Abram pulled the man to him and kissed each cheek, patting him on the back as he did so. “Come to my tent this evening. I will have witnesses there and give you the adoption seal.”
    Eliezer bowed low, then stood. “It will be as you have said.”
    Abram dismissed him then, and Sarai watched the man’s lithe gait as he moved among the busy servants, checking their progress as he went.
    “Did I do the right thing?” Abram slipped his arm around her but kept his gaze straight ahead, his voice so low she knew only she had heard. “It’s not that I don’t believe the promises. Adonai said He would bless us.” He turned to face her then. “I know He will, Sarai. We cannot doubt.”
    “Of course He will.” She patted his arm, hoping her smile reassured him. “But it is not wrong, as you said, to do the wise thing. We don’t want Lot and Melah taking control of what is ours. It’s not that I don’t care for our nephew, it’s just . . .”
    “I know. I feel as you do.” Abram stroked his beard. His look grew thoughtful. “When Adonai gives us the promised child, there will be no need to worry about such things. But you are right. Eliezer is a better choice than our nephew. I was probably wrong to allow them to come with us in the first place.”
    Sarai offered him a smile and slipped her arm in his. “You made the right decision, my lord.” She leaned closer and kissed his bearded face. “I will see to supper.” She moved away from him to oversee the work of her maids.

    Later that night Sarai watched Abram unclasp the lapis lazuli cone-shaped seal from his wrist and press it into the clay adoption tablet. Most adoptions were handled with verbal agreements, but she knew Abram would take no chances that Lot would try to usurp Eliezer’s place.
    Eliezer took the sealed document from Abram, slipped it inside a leather pouch, and tied its leather straps about his neck. “When Adonai keeps His promise to give you a son,” he said, his gaze fixed on Abram, “we shall together break this clay. I will gladly remain your trusted servant.”
    Tears filled her eyes at Eliezer’s words. Words that were as valid as the sealed clay he now owned. They had made a wise choice, perhaps wiser than they knew.
    The familiar female discomfort and cramping came upon her suddenly, and she hurried from Abram’s tent to her own. There would be no sleeping at Abram’s side this night, just as there would be no promised son anytime soon. Another month lost. One more proof of her barrenness. Were Abram’s hopes pinned on false promises? Had he truly heard Adonai say such things? Where was the sign of the child’s promised coming?
    She lay down on her reed mat and accepted from Lila’s hand the herbed tea that would ease her discomfort. She tried desperately to console herself knowing that at least Abram now had an heir, albeit an adopted one. When her week of uncleanness passed, she would ask him if the adoption released her from her vow. Perhaps he would be kinder than her father had been and give her this grace. If he would not, she didn’t know what she would do.

    Abram rose early the next morning, a sense of disquiet settling over him. He was glad to have given Eliezer the seal of adoption. The younger man had become like a son to him during their stay in Harran, and Abram was relieved to know he had someone to care for him and Sarai during the forthcoming years. But what of the child, the descendants promised to him? Did Adonai still intend to keep those promises? And what of the land where they had now pitched their tents? Canaanites, some as tall as small trees, roamed the cities they’d passed through. Some had been inviting and friendly enough, but others wore looks of malevolence, and the gossip Eliezer had heard in the camp had Abram’s trained