A Story of God and All of Us - By Roma Downey Page 0,6

pungent unwashed men, and the heavy, dusty aroma of the night itself. The smells make the battle more immediate. A still, small voice in his head reminds him that there is time to turn around and leave. Lot and his wife made a bad choice by abandoning Abram. No one would call Abram a coward for turning back now that the odds are apparent. Abram quiets that voice and finishes his prayer.

He draws his sword, raises it into the air, and slices it in a forward motion--

the signal for his men to stealthily launch their attack. A silent wave of shepherd soldiers floods into the enemy camp.

"Trust in God!" Abram roars. His army attacks. Abram and his men are clearly illuminated in the cooking fires. Abram draws first blood, plunging his sword deep into the stomach of an enemy soldier. The soldier cries out in agony, in an instant every head in camp turns their way. "Raaaaaaghh!"

Abram screams, pulling his sword from the dead man and swinging

immediately at another enemy soldier.

Others join the battle cry. A sword cuts the air next to Abram's face, missing him by inches. He pulls back, then plunges his sword into the man's side.

The camp breaks out in chaos, as the enemy soldiers race for their weapons. In the confusion, the enemy cannot reach their tents to get their swords or knives. Abram and his men mow them down like grain being harvested, slashing and punching at the enemy. Abram was right about his surprise attack.

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Abram steps over a pile of bodies toward where Lot is being held prisoner.

"God is with us!" Abram whispers in his nephew's ear, as he slices the rope binding Lot's hands.

By now, the battle is turning into a rout. Enemy soldiers are running into the night. Many are chased down and killed by Abram's men, who know all too well that if these men are not slain they will ultimately come back and exact their revenge.

Lot's wife comes to her husband's side. She pulls him close and whispers to him, avoiding Abram's gaze.

"Lot," cries an ecstatic Abram. "Now do you see? So few against so many!

This is a triumph for our mighty God."

But now Lot cannot meet Abram's gaze.

"What is it?" asks Abram. His gut tells him bad news is coming. But what bad news could they give him now, after this great victory?

Lot pauses, then looks downward at his wife, who nods. "Abram... Uncle...,"

Lot stammers. These are the toughest words he has ever had to utter: "We're carrying on."

Abram looks from one to the other in confusion. "To where?" he asks.

"Sodom."

"Sodom! You can't possibly be serious."

"We're going back into the city to live. We're better off there."

Abram's face darkens. This is not a look Lot has seen often, and he knows to fear it. Abram sweeps his arm wide, showing the bodies of the fallen. He knows them all by name. He knows their wives and their children, and knows that upon returning he must personally deliver the news of their deaths. They all fought well. It was a good fight. A just fight. Lot's decision renders it all in vain. Abram feels a deep sadness in his heart when he speaks: "Lot, hear me when I say this: men have died to save you."

"I know! And there is no way I can repay their loss. But I have lost men, too,"

rationalizes Lot.

"You would have been dead by morning," Abram tells him. "Your wife 19

would have been the trophy of some unwashed soldier--and many of his friends. Don't tell me about the men you lost."

"Uncle, look, your God has not kept His promises. We can't eat faith. We can't drink faith. Faith will not clothe us."

"But it will, Lot. And God is fulfilling His promises, Lot. Didn't you see? My small army of untrained shepherds defeated a mighty force. How else would this be possible? I beg of you: come with us!"

"Why?" Lot's wife boldly steps forward. "What has your God promised?"

"A nation! A future! A family! A son!" replies Abram. He believes every syllable.

"Your wife will never bear a son," she sneers.

The words pierce him, and a devastated Abram remains silent.

Lot's wife continues: "What about food? Water? Shelter?"

Abram ignores her. He is exhausted. The battle rattled his nerves. And now this? He places his hand on Lot's shoulder. "Nephew. This time. We must stay together."

Lot's eyes are downcast, but his mind is made up. He places his hand on Abram's, and then gently removes it from his shoulder.