Short Story

I don't know how many of you were there on Sunday for my dad's sermon, but he talked a little bit about Numbers 21:4-9 about the serpents. Well, I had a little bit of an idea and I decided to write a short story about it. You might want to read the Numbers passage first. I'll be posting part of it everyday for a few days...

“We want something better!” A gruff looking man barks. His voice breaks free from the murmuring crowd of angry people.
“It isn’t enough!” hollers an older woman.
“We should have stayed in Egypt,” a young man cries bitterly, “At least we had enough to eat.”
I watch all this from my position crouched near a goatskin tent. Men and women are yelling angry insults at an old man with white hair. His skin is dark like old leather and his face weary but he stands tall before the complaining Israelites.
Another man steps forward, tall and muscled. His beard is tangled and his clothes are wrinkled and stained from weeks of travel. The crowd hushes as he speaks, “We’re tired of this manna, old man.” His voice is edged with menace. Then he leans closer and I can imagine the stench of his breath, bits of meat caught in his beard. “We’re tired of you, Moses.”
“You dare to address the Lord’s servant in this manner?” Moses’ voice rings out across the camp, gaining strength as he speaks. “You, Jeptha who swore to obey his commands, who heard him speak. I warn you Yahweh does not take this lightly.”
He’s giving you a chance to take it back! I want to scream. Say you’re sorry, beg Yahweh’s forgiveness. Because as much as I hate what Jeptha is doing I don’t want to see him get hurt. And I knew just what Yahweh can do. Because the man standing before Moses isn’t just any man.

He is my father.