A Story of God and All of Us - By Roma Downey Page 0,45

slay them with the jawbone in an instant. But Samson has far greater work to do, and after piercing them with a hard glare that says he still has not forgiven them the death of his wife, he stalks off in the opposite direction.

Samson doesn't walk far. The moment he turns a corner into an alley, he falls to his knees. Breathlessly, he presses his hands together and speaks to God. "Lord," he asks, "is this what You want? Please, I beg of You, guide me."

Samson hears footsteps behind him. He leaps to his feet, jawbone in hand, believing it to be yet another soldier. But it is a woman, a most beautiful woman. She is so utterly stunning that Samson forgets his rage and simply stares into her dark eyes. The woman carries a jug of water, which she now places on the ground. Staring seductively into Samson's eyes, she pulls back the scarf that covers her head, then bends to pour a cup of water and holds it up for him to drink.

Samson suddenly realizes his great thirst. Hours chained in the market square have made him parched. He feels the thickness of his tongue, and his lips are dry, chapped. He drinks greedily, never once taking his eyes off this vision before him. She is clearly a Philistine, and Samson remembers his mother's admonition that he find a woman from his own tribe.

Samson gulps the last of the water and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He notices the woman admiring his massive bare chest, and her gaze has lingered on the definition in his rugged shoulders. "Who are you?" he says finally.

"Delilah," she answers demurely. "My name is Delilah."

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Word soon travels back to Abimilech about Delilah. The Philistine commander has retreated from the Israelite village to a barracks in his hometown. Samson's victory against the Philistine army seems blessed.

Abimilech seeks his own blessing from the pagan deity Dagon, and burns an animal sacrifice in the dark of the night. Smoke fills the small chamber as Phicol enters with news from his spies.

"We have news of Samson," Phicol crisply briefs Abimilech. "He's got a new woman--a Philistine woman."

"Another one of our women? What's her name?"

"Delilah," answers Phicol.

Abimilech smirks, for once again he believes he is about to gain the upper hand against Samson. "I know her. Bring her to me. I need to talk to her."

Delilah is brought before Abimilech. He stands on a balcony above her so that she does not see him when she first enters his quarters. Abimilech gazes down on her, infuriated that an Israelite would dare touch such a spectacular example of the Philistine people. Her beauty is so great that even that the hardened Abimilech stammers for a moment before regaining his composure. He will do anything to please a beautiful woman. He has thoughts of rapture and ecstasy about her, longings of the flesh that he must put aside if he is to win this war.

"Delilah," Abimilech says as powerfully as possible. But his thin voice betrays his weakness. "Thank you for coming," he adds a little more confidently.

Abimilech disappears from Delilah's view, descending from his balcony via a back staircase. His eyes wander over every inch of her body as he reappears behind her. "As beguiling as ever," he says softly.

Delilah whirls around. "What do you want?"

"For now," he purrs, "let's just have a little talk." The purr turns to a growl as his voice grows cold. "I'd like to talk about Samson. An interesting choice, wouldn't you say? Not one of us. Whatever makes you think you belong with him?"

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"Why do you want to know?" Delilah answers defensively.

Abimilech reaches out and touches her softly beneath the chin. "What's that tone in your voice? Don't tell me that you care about him."

Her silence speaks volumes.

"So I'm assuming he's in love with you?" asks Abimilech.

"Ask him yourself," Delilah fires back, not at all afraid of the Philistine commander.

Abimilech steps right up to her, so close that he breathes in her face, then grabs her arms so that she can't step back. "He's butchered hundreds of our people." His spittle coats her smooth, unlined face as he loses control of his anger. "Have have you forgotten that?"

"And how many have you butchered, Abimilech?"

"Do not confuse justice with murder."

"Do you really think you're any better?" asks Delilah. "But Samson's changed. He's a different man since he met me."

Abimilech laughs bitterly. "Do you really believe that? The truth is that