Song of Redemption (Chronicles of the Kings Book #2)

Lynn Austin

Description

When King Hezekiah discovers that God's Law forbids him to take multiple wives, he must choose one woman to love. He must also choose to trust God's promises when he decides to rebel against his powerful Assyrian overlords. Hezekiah seeks to strengthen his nation's fortifications by building a tunnel in Jerusalem to hide his water supply. The tension mounts as the Assyrians march closer--and Hezekiah's tunnel remains incomplete.With his officials advising him to submit to the Assyrians, Hezekiah's faith is once more severely tested. Chronicles of the King Book 2.

Sujets

• Sagas

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2005
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441202406
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

© 2005 Lynn Austin
Previously published as The Lord Is My Song
Published by Bethany House Publishers 11400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan. www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2012
Ebook corrections 04.18.2016 (VBN), 04.26.2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-0240-6
Cover design by The Design Works Group
Dedicated to my children, Joshua, Benjamin, and Maya— my favorite “trilogy”
The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation .
E XODUS 15:2
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
A Note to the Reader
Prologue
Part One
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
Part Two
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
Part Three
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
Epilogue
Oldest Hebrew Inscription Ever Discovered
C HRONICLES OF THE K INGS —Book 3
About the Author
Books by Lynn Austin
Back Ad
Back Cover
A Note to the Reader
Shortly after King Solomon’s death in 931 BC, the Promised Land split into two separate kingdoms. Israel, the larger nation to the north, set up its capital in Samaria and was no longer governed by a descendant of King David. In the southern nation of Judah, David’s royal line continued to rule from Jerusalem.
The narrative of this book centers on events in the life of Hezekiah, who ruled Judah from 716 to 687 BC.
Careful study of Scripture and commentaries support the fictionalization of this story. To create authentic speech, the author has paraphrased the words of these biblical figures. However, the New International Version has been directly quoted when characters are reading or reciting Scripture passages and when prophets are speaking the words of the Lord. The only allowance the author has made is to change the words “the Lord” to “Yahweh.”
Interested readers are encouraged to research the full accounts of these events in the Bible as they enjoy this second book in the CHRONICLES OF THE K INGS series.

Scripture references for Song of Redemption :
2 Kings 17:1–23
2 Kings 18:1–12
2 Chronicles 29–31
2 Chronicles 32:27–30
See also:
Deuteronomy 17:14–20
2 Samuel 5:6–8
The prophecies of Isaiah and of Micah
Prologue
T HE RAIN FINALLY ENDED , but puddles dotted the streets of Jerusalem as King Hezekiah walked down the hill from his palace to the Valley of Hinnom. He followed the route that the procession had taken when he’d been a child, ripped from his bed at dawn to witness the sacrifices to Molech. But this time there was no procession, no entourage of priests and soldiers forcing him to march against his will; only his friend Jonadab, captain of the palace guards, at his side. Fog blanketed the view ahead of him, and Hezekiah could barely see the jagged cliffs through the mist. It seemed appropriate that a shroud would cover this valley of death. He strode through the city gate and turned down the narrow divide, remembering the pounding drums, the column of smoke, his helpless terror. Once again Hezekiah stood face-to-face with his enemy Molech.
The monster seemed smaller than Hezekiah remembered, the brass idol dull and cold now that the flames had been quenched. Raindrops dripped from Molech’s face as he gazed down from his throne. His soot-smudged belly stood empty, his gaping mouth mute. Heavy ropes shackled him, circling his neck, his chest, his arms and feet.
“It seems unbelievable that anyone would worship this thing,” Hezekiah said, “much less sacrifice their children to it.”
“Our nation will be a much better place without it,” Jonadab agreed. “And it’s fitting that you’re the one to destroy it, Your Majesty.”
Hezekiah nodded, remembering how close he’d come to being destroyed by Molech. He watched as the workers harnessed two teams of oxen to the statue. Then, on Hezekiah’s signal, the foreman’s whip cracked and the animals strained forward. The ropes stretched taut. Molech teetered on his throne for a moment, then lost his balance and crashed to the ground. The oxen dragged the idol a few more feet before halting. Molech’s arms reached toward Hezekiah as if pleading for help.
“Well, that’s the end of him, Your Majesty,” Jonadab said.
“If only it were that simple.” Hezekiah remembered his brothers Eliab and Amariah, who had been burned alive, and he felt no victory over his fallen enemy. “I’m afraid there are still plenty of people who’d rather cling to ignorance and superstition than seek the truth. And they’re the ones who’ll keep Molech alive.”
“You think people will still sacrifice their children now that the statue’s gone?”
Hezekiah nodded. “I’m certain they will—only now they’ll do it in secret. You’ll need to warn the guards at the Valley Gate to watch this place after dark, Jonadab. It’s been used for child sacrifice for centuries, even before they made this cursed thing.”
“And if we catch someone sacrificing here?” Jonadab asked quietly.
“Bring them to me at once.”
Hezekiah watched in silence as the workers untied the ropes. Jonadab gestured to the fallen idol. “What do you want us to do with it, Your Majesty?” he asked.
“Smash it into pieces. Melt it down and forge weapons from it. Swords, spears, arrowheads, shields. Fill the armory with them. Someday I’ll have an army again—and you’ll lead them, General Jonadab.”
The captain looked up at him in surprise. “Your Majesty?”
“I’m promoting you to general.”
It took Jonadab a moment to recover his composure, then he bowed. “Thank you. I’m honored, Your Majesty.”
The wind lifted a funnel of soot and ash into the air as Hezekiah walked closer to the empty fire pit. “Our nation’s guilt is very great,” he said softly. “I don’t know how God can ever forgive us for all the innocent blood we’ve shed in this place.” For a moment no one spoke. The workmen waited in reverent silence.
“Seems like we should say a prayer or something, doesn’t it?” Jonadab said.
The men looked to Hezekiah expectantly. He drew a breath and recited one of the few verses of the Torah that he knew by heart: “‘Hear, O Israel. Yahweh is our God—Yahweh alone. Love Yahweh your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.’”
Then he turned and began the long climb back up the hill to the palace.
Part One
Hezekiah was twenty-five years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem twenty-nine years. His mother’s name was Abijah daughter of Zechariah. He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, just as his father David had done. In the first month of the first year of his reign, he opened the doors of the temple of the Lord and repaired them.

2 C HRONICLES 29 : 1 – 3 NIV
1
In the northern kingdom of Israel
J ERUSHA LAY AWAKE IN the sleeping loft above her house, listening to the sounds of a new morning. She was much too excited to sleep. Light from the dawning sun filtered through the cracks of the shutters, along with the melody of songbirds in the olive trees outside. She heard the heavy tread of the oxen on the stone floor in the stall below her room and her father, Jerimoth, speaking softly to them as he led them outside. He would feed and water the animals, then hitch them to the cart for the three-mile trip to Dabbasheth—and cousin Serah’s wedding.
Jerusha stood up and folded her blanket, eager to begin this special day. She set the tiny square of bronze that she used for a mirror on the window ledge and studied her murky reflection as she combed her thick brown hair. Her straight nose and oval-shaped face were deeply tanned from working beside her mother in the barley fields, and she had her father’s almond-shaped eyes, as green as the rolling hills. Abba said she was pretty; she wondered if it was true. Jerusha sighed and returned the metal scrap to its place on the shelf, wishing for a proper mirror.
This morning, instead of her usual work clothes, Jerusha put on the only good dress she owned, reserved for special occasions like this. The wedding festivities would last for days; she would feast and dance and visit with all her relatives. But best of all, maybe Abram would be there.
Jerusha had known Abram for years—had grown up with him, seeing him at weddings and festivals and village gatherings. He had always been a quiet boy, the opposite of her own carefree nature, and she had hardly noticed him when they were children. But now that Abram was a man—now that she saw him looking at her the way a man looks at a woman—Jerusha found herself dreaming of becoming his wife, bearing his children, and making a home with him on his father’s land.
As Jerusha bustled around the tiny loft, humming a wedding tune, her younger sister, Maacah, stirred from her sleep. “Why are you getting up so early?” Maacah grumbled. “It’s barely morning.” She was small for an eleven-year-old and thin as a reed, with thick dark braids and a round freckled face. She followed Jerusha everywhere but was much too young to share her dreams of a husband and babies.
“Did you forget? We’re going to Dabbasheth for Serah’s wedding today.” Jerusha unlatched the shutters and opened them.
Maacah turned toward the wall, pulling the covers over her head. “I didn’t forget, but we don’t have to leave this early.”
“Abba says we can’t leave until we finish all our chores, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get there. Come on, sleepyhead.” Jerusha pulled the covers all the way off her protesting sister and stuffed them into the wall niche beside her own. Maacah w