Page 35 of Unveiled Tamar’s Story (Mysteries & Wonders of the Bible #1)

V alerius moved through the marketplace, scanning the stalls for an appropriate gift for Livia. They’d be celebrating the day of her birth in just a few days, but his senses were on alert for far more than that.

He hadn’t slept yesterday when he returned home—he hadn’t needed to. He’d felt more refreshed than he ever had after a full shift, whether at night or day. Instead, he and Mariana had spent the day talking, snatches here and there as they played with the children and shared their meals.

She had told him about her time with Tamar and Bithnia the day before. He had told her about the silent night and the brilliant dawn. About the Man who would not be held captive by death. They had wondered together, praised together.

Today, they’d both awakened with questions in their eyes.

The greatest miracle in the history of the world had just happened, right before their eyes. But what were they to do about it, other than believe?

“We need to find the others,” Mariana had whispered, weaving her fingers into his. “Bithnia told me where to find them. She said to come today.” Yet a question lingered in her eyes.

A question he understood all too well. The gathering Bithnia had mentioned was of believers, followers of Jesus, yes.

But those followers were no friendlier to Romans than any other Jews were.

Hadn’t they run into that time and again already?

Hadn’t they heard the stories of Gentiles who approached the Lord, only for His disciples to try to send them away?

What made them think this would be any different? Jesus had always made room for them. But Jesus was no longer among their number. They had only the disciples, still bound by old prejudices, to whom they could appeal.

Which brought them to the more relevant question still. Could their hearts withstand another rebuff right now, when what they desperately needed was someone to come alongside them?

A step behind him, Mariana moved toward one of the stalls, reaching for an intricately carved wooden top. She righted it, gave it a spin, and smiled at the pattern that whirled to life as it twirled.

“She would love that,” Valerius said in Latin. He hadn’t even seen it as he walked by. His mind was already on the streets they’d walk when they left the marketplace. Assuming they didn’t decide along the way that it wasn’t worth the risk of being turned away.

“Mm.” Ordinarily, Mariana—haggler that she was—would have sent him a scowl for saying such a thing out loud, even in the language least likely to be understood by the merchant. Today, she just shrugged and put the top down again. “I do not know. It does not seem quite right.”

He wasn’t going to argue. Even though he knew it wasn’t the top that seemed not quite right. It was this uncertainty they both felt.

What if Bithnia wasn’t there to welcome them?

Or, more likely still, what if her family rebuked her for inviting them?

What if their presence upset everyone and created chaos?

How could they assure them that they posed no threat?

He wasn’t wearing his centurion uniform just now, but his toga would do nothing to reassure them.

They moved on from that stall, bypassed all the others without even slowing to glance at anything, and then found themselves at the corner, looking down the street but not striding toward it.

“Is this the right thing?” Mariana whispered, twisting her fingers in her stola. “I want it so badly—to find fellowship with others like us—that I wonder if it is my own desire pulling me along rather than the will of God.”

He chuckled, but he understood the question perfectly. “Wanting to worship God in communion with others cannot be bad, can it?”

They turned to the right, still ambling more than striding. He had a feeling his wife was offering silent prayers to heaven, just as he was doing. Even though he didn’t know what the answer to those prayers would look like, he kept his eyes searching for it.

He smiled when Mariana, despite her lack of military training, proved the better scout.

She halted him with a hand on his arm a few minutes later, her eyes locked on a group at the next corner.

His own gaze had skittered over them, given how ordinary they looked.

Four men in the lead, talking, their faces all similar enough to say they were brothers, or perhaps cousins.

Behind them trailed two women, heads bent close together as they talked between themselves.

An ordinary family, but the fact that Mariana drew his attention to them made him realize that one of the two women was Tamar.

An odd feeling, almost like nostalgia, washed over him.

How many times had he walked past her in this city before without even knowing it?

How many times had he strode past her brothers?

They’d likely passed him by in the temple each Sabbath as he and Mariana came for instruction in the Court of the Gentiles.

No doubt they’d all detoured to the other side of a street to avoid each other at some point in the past.

Before meeting at the tomb, they were just…strangers. Romans and Jews. Men and women, even, which meant they couldn’t simply speak in public. So many rules meant to keep them in their separate spheres. So many regulations designed to keep them from ever seeing how they were alike.

Why did society, all society, his and theirs both, focus only on the differences? Why did their leaders try to dictate with whom they could be friends?

He answered his own question even as he mentally asked it.

Because differences created fear, and fear made room for power.

Because it was only by standing on the backs of others that most leaders attained their heights, so first they must find someone to stand on.

Because the best way to unite one people was to convince them they were better than, superior to, the natural rulers over, another.

Egyptians and Hebrews. Spartans and Helots. Rome and…everyone else they encountered, honestly. When taught that your civilization was the pinnacle of all human civilization, it stood to reason that every other culture deserved to be subjugated and any individual could be forced to serve you.

Understanding that now made him ache. This wasn’t the world God had wanted for His creation.

He had not created them to hate each other, to rule each other like this.

He had made them of one family. One blood.

It was only because of their pride and ambition, their desire to rival God, that He had scattered them.

So then, didn’t it make sense that what could unite them again was coming together to worship Him?

His pulse pounded. Yes, he’d been trained to make decisions based solely on logic and reason, but this felt right. It felt true. It felt noble enough to be worthy of seeking after. But they were only half of the equation. The others had to feel the same way, for any unity to be found.

Perhaps their stares caught the attention of the group, or perhaps the others just spotted them in their own perusal, and Valerius’s and Mariana’s focused attention arrested theirs.

Whichever the cause, the men stopped, conferred, frowns on their brows.

Then, in turn, their sudden shift caused Tamar to halt her conversation with the unfamiliar woman and look up.

A smile lit her face.

Mariana gripped his arm more tightly. He knew that the smile would have sent a shaft of hope through her spirit, just as it had his. He covered her hand with his. “Let us wait. See if she comes to us. I fear we will scare off the whole crowd if we approach them.”

Mariana nodded, keeping her face set toward Tamar. Keeping her smile bright and inviting.

Tamar said something to the woman—a sister-in-law? Cousin? Friend?—and then moved up to speak to the men. With their faces together like that, he had no question that this was Tamar’s family, if any doubts had remained. The resemblance was unmistakable.

But it seemed that her family was no more harmonious than any other he knew.

As she spoke, gesturing at them, two of the men sent a scowl their way dark enough to eclipse the sun.

The other two listened with interest, one of them sending a far different look toward them—a contemplative, receptive look.

Please, God. Please make a way. Make a way for us to find fellowship. Make a way for unity among Your children again.

Even as he prayed it, he remembered some of the words Jesus had spoken. Of a sorrowful promise that He would divide. Turn mothers against daughters, fathers against sons. If families split over faith in Him, what hope did strangers have?

Two of the men stalked off a moment later, their hand gestures making it look as though they were resigning the rest of their family to their fate.

The other two flanked Tamar, who craned her neck around to speak to the other woman.

When they stood like that, a knot of three and then one lone woman, he had to think the other was just an acquaintance or friend.

She hesitated for a moment at whatever Tamar said, nodded, and hurried off in the same direction the men had gone.

Tamar faced forward again, and the trio started toward them.

Mariana’s fingers dug into his arm. He gave them a squeeze that he had to make an effort to keep gentle. Each step they advanced felt like a decade, like an ocean, like an infinity crossed over.

He waited, pulse pounding as if he were running, though his feet held their spot.

At last, the trio stopped just before them.

Tamar was still smiling, and in her face he saw the echo of the light that had felled them both yesterday morning.

The two men weren’t exactly beaming at them, but their expressions were open. Welcoming?

The taller of the two nodded a greeting. “I am Levi—Tamar’s cousin.”

“The one who helped me escape the temple on Friday,” Tamar added softly.