As we approached the encampment, I noticed Mama shielding her eyes from the sun while she looked around anxiously. When I waved, she dropped her hand, waved back and returned to her weaving. Sheerah and I joined Mama, Aunt Rachel and their handmaidens as they worked at the tedious task of making cloth from wool. The portable looms were kept nearby at all times and weaving was done whenever there was a break from other chores. Today no evening meal was being prepared so we were all free to sit together and work. Even though the task was boring and difficult, we welcomed such times because it gave us a chance to visit.

Unable to contain my excitement, I began to share my experience. Leaving out the details, I emphasized the love I had experienced, the forgiveness, the realization that I was a person of worth to God. As expected Mama and Aunt Rachel shared my excitement, hugging me with tears in their eyes. In response to the maids' questions, they began to tell of their own experiences with Yahweh as a personal, caring God.

As Aunt Rachel related the story of asking her gods for my protection instead of evoking the power of Yahweh, Sheerah listened intently. Then she questioned, "Do you believe if you had prayed to Yahweh, my people would still be alive? Were they punished because you slighted your god?"

Aunt Rachel explained that our ignoring Yahweh is certainly painful to Him, but He does not punish the innocent to make us follow Him. The slaughter of the Shechemites was an abomination to God, an action undertaken by men without consulting God. Yahweh was able to use the incident to bring Aunt Rachel to a fuller knowledge of Him, but He did not direct it.

"You see, Sheerah," Mama interjected, "God would no more cause the slaughter than Rachel would send Dinah into town to punish me for resenting her relationship with Jacob. Although there has been bitterness and rivalry in our relationship, Rachel and I are still sisters; we love one another. She did not mean for anything bad to happen to Dinah. In the same way, Yahweh did not desire for the slaughter at Shechem to occur. Yahweh does not stop us from making mistakes, and when we repent He can bring good from something evil."

"I still do not understand," Sheerah said. "I was raised to believe that the gods see men as their playthings. The only way to appease them is through sacrifice. If your god loves us as you claim and if he is really all-powerful, why does he allow such tragedies?"

"I wish I could answer all of your questions," Mama responded. "But I do not understand why Yahweh exercises His power only occasionally. Again I can only compare it to my experience. When my children are young I try to teach them safety. I am more powerful than they, but every one of them has burned himself slightly while testing my teaching that fire is hot. I could have kept them from the heat, but I knew they would only learn through experience. Since God is greater than we, perhaps what seems tragic to us is His way of letting us scorch our fingers.

I cannot explain the ways of Yahweh because He is beyond my ability to comprehend. The greater part of Yahweh worship is faith. As we trust Him, He reveals Himself to us. Explaining God to you is like trying to explain what a Mama is to an orphan who has experienced only cruelty in an adoptive home. You must pray and seek Him, and He will make Himself known to you."

Shaking her head, Sheerah said, "Maybe as I watch and learn, I will be ready to pray to your Yahweh. Most of our worship was motivated by fear or need. We only prayed when we wanted something or when we wanted to prevent something. To talk to a god about love, understanding or personal revelation seems presumptuous. I wouldn't want to anger such a powerful god as yours."

Further attempts to explain Yahweh were lost on Sheerah, but to my surprise, Zilpah related that she had come to recognize that Yahweh did exist. What's more, she was ready to accept Him as the only God. The rest of the time was spent discussing how Zilpah could make this known to God.

The next morning I awoke before dawn. Slipping out of the tent, I sat under a nearby tree and watched the sunrise. For the first time, the sunrise was a worship experience for me. It was as though I watched the hand of Yahweh paint the sky. The pinks gave way to pale oranges and then firey reds. Shrubs appeared to flame momentarily as though a fire swept through the area leaving behind lifeless parched bushes.

In the distance the city of Bethel was also set aflame only to settle again into a drab sameness barely discernible from the surrounding barren landscape. I wondered if my life, yesterday touched by Yahweh's artistry, would, like his creation, return to the mediocrity of a water-starved land. The thought, "That is your decision; an artist can only create with the supplies he is given," made me aware that the Lord had accepted my adoration. I determined then to try to make my life a suitable canvas for Yahweh's painting.

Soon the camp began to stir. I returned to the tent to grind grain for the meal to follow our worship assembly. Our fast would end following the service. This time there would be no large feast, but rather the staples of bread and water would be eaten, representative of our repentance and unworthiness to partake of Yahweh's bounty. We had come to Bethel to repent and reestablish a relationship with our God.

At the appointed time, everyone gathered quietly before the altar. When all were present, Papa stood and began to recite the history of Bethel as it pertains to our people. He told of Father Abraham answering God's call to leave his country and inhabit a land which Yahweh would give him. As he journeyed through the land, he stopped at Bethel and built an altar to God. Papa himself had encountered God at Bethel when fleeing from his brother Esau. Despite Papa's deceit, God had appeared to him in a dream renewing the promise made to Father Abraham.

In a loud voice, Papa quoted, "I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." (Genesis 28:13-15)

In agony Papa fell to his face before the altar. As though alone with God, he poured out his sins confessing deceit, greed, idolatry within his family, distrust of God, and other sins. He begged God not to withdraw his blessing, but to use our family despite our failings. He acknowledged that so far we had been a curse not a blessing to the nations. Although we could not change the past, Papa affirmed that with Yahweh's help we could redeem the future. Finally thanking Yahweh for returning him to this land as promised, he lay silent before God.

Rising and turning to us, Papa said, "It is not enough that I repent for you. You must each individually turn to God and seek His forgiveness. If you have sinned against the Lord turn from the evil unto our God. If you have sinned against another, ask that person's forgiveness also. God cannot bless an unrepentant people."

The atmosphere was charged as though an invisible force had brought us to this moment for a purpose. Ever since Aunt Rachel's dramatic renunciation of her teraphim, a tension had been building in the camp. I had been so involved in my own struggle I was unaware of the reason for the undercurrent. Just as God had been working in my life, He had touched the lives of others preparing us for this awakening. As though on cue, those assembled began to petition God. Some stood with raised hands while others fell to their knees or lay prostrate on the ground.

I simply stood humbly, head bowed remembering my vigil of the previous day. My memory sparked earlier less pleasant recollections. The scene of Simeon coming to check on me shortly after the massacre came vividly to mind. The words "I no longer consider either of you to be my brothers" echoed through my consciousness. I realized my repentance was incomplete. As my rebellious heart fought against God, crying out it was not my fault, the thought of the morning's sunrise reminded me of my resolve. Although I thought Simeon should be the one to initiate reconciliation, God's expectations were different.

Raising my head and squaring my shoulders, I prepared to do God's bidding. Searching the crowd until I located my brothers standing some way off, I began to make my way toward them. Accidentally bumping into a child in my hurry, I looked down to apologize. As I finished I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I found myself face to face with Simeon.

He said, "Can you forgive me for the murders, for the pain I have caused you? I know now that I acted not as God's man, but as my own willful self. My anger and hurt pride demanded action and I convinced myself Yahweh approved. I cannot change the past; I can only say, I'm sorry."

Smiling through tears, I answered, "Yes. Today I can forgive you. Yesterday I met Yahweh personally. He has brought me to the point of forgiveness. But I too need to ask your pardon. When I renounced our kinship, I did not know of the gracious mercy of God. I cannot ask clemency of Him while I continue to disown my brother." Together we went to find Levi.

Leaving me with Levi, Simeon disappeared into the crowd. As Levi and I concluded our apologies, the crowd grew silent. Turning towards the altar, we saw Simeon standing with hands raised for quiet. He told the assembly of his misdeeds asking their forgiveness for bringing disgrace to the family.

He then addressed the women taken from Shechem. Noting that they had reason only to hate him, he begged them not to judge our God because of his own actions. He acknowledged he had been motivated by anger not by God. Pledging to do whatever he could to rectify his actions, Simeon declared that because of the blood on his hands, he was unworthy to help with the sacrifice. Indicating both he and Levi wished to abdicate the privilege, he passed the responsibility to Judah, my fourth brother.

After the sacrifice had been made, Papa indicated the place would now be known as El Bethel, the house of God. Pointing out that the altar had been formed using the stone he had dedicated to God many years before, he reminded us of Yahweh's faithfulness to his children. God is as firm as the stone. Papa had strayed, but God had brought him back. As his family, we were heirs to the blessing of Yahweh. If we sinned, God would strive to bring us back so he could continue to bless us. Feeling a stirring within my womb, I knew I had already been blessed. It was time to share my blessing with my family.

When we returned to our tents for the meal, I asked Mama to seek an audience with Papa for the two of us. I wanted to reveal my secret while still emboldened by the worship experience. After she had eaten, Sheerah was sent with the request. To my relief, Papa did not require us to wait until after the midday rest. Instead, he told us to come immediately as he would be occupied the remainder of the day.

Entering his tent, I was surprised to see that Papa had refreshment set out on his table. Embracing Mama and then me, he offered us grapes and milk explaining that they were a poor attempt to rectify his past neglect. Seating ourselves, we partook sparingly of his hospitality before I broached the reason for the audience.

I said, "Papa, I have already told Mama of my experience yesterday with Yahweh. He made me aware of my worth to Him, of His love for me. Part of my story I saved for now. When I was in Shechem, I prayed for Yahweh to protect Shem. I was bitter afterward, blaming God for Shem's death. I decided to abandon Yahweh as unworthy of worship. Only after I tried to take my life was I able to pray again, and then without true belief. Yesterday I poured out all of my bitterness before God. It was then He revealed to me that what I saw as punishment was really a blessing in answer to my prayer." Looking searchingly from one to the other, I concluded, "I'm pregnant. I carry Shem's child. God did not spare Shem, but he has allowed him to live on in his child."

In the silence following my speech, I watched Papa's expressive face. I saw disbelief, anger and pain in succession. Finally he spoke. "Are you sure? You are young and inexperienced."

Mama added, "Perhaps you have just missed a period. That often happens to young women."

"No," I said. "My belief is not based on my monthly curse. I have not had a period of uncleanness since my first. I have experienced nausea for some time; I am constantly tired. When I prayed, Yahweh affirmed my pregnancy as a blessing by making the child move for the first time."

"Today I spoke of forgiveness," Papa responded. "The best course is to forgive Shem and accept the child as one from God. But my anger is mighty; I must pray about this child. I had hoped the stigma of rape could be overcome with time. A child will be a living reminder. No man will want you as wife. Perhaps we should pray for God to take the child before it is born."

"It would do no good," I stated. "Yahweh has already acted. He would not destroy the child to improve my marriageability. I do not know how the child will bless my life, but Yahweh has made me a promise. He has given a peace concerning my pregnancy. This may appear to be the foolish imaginings of an optimistic maiden, but I know what I experienced. Ask God what to do about my pregnancy. He will convince you as He has me."