I could see the farm in the distance.  I held my cane sword in my hand running my fingers over the notches I carved into the side.  Each notch represented a year which had passed.  There were one hundred of them.

The Legacy Of Shem

Although I could see the farm I did not know who controlled it.  I certainly was elated that it still existed.  The fear had long been that Nimrod had burned it to the ground.  For this moment I would remain happy and hopeful, but cautious.

We had come along the same path that we had originally fled.  This took us south from the direction of Kars following the river Aras.  We held a higher elevation and could see into the valley.  Here we spent some time watching the movement of people at the farm.

I was anxious to get going.  After a day of seeing what appeared to be normal activity it was time to ride in slowly.  We mounted and split into three groups.

Jared would take five men and follow behind at a distance.  Nathan would take three men and push ahead to make contact at the point.  I would remain at the center with the bulk of my men following Nathan.

We began our push towards the farm counting the horses pace to maintain a slow speed.  The land had changed some.  It was getting warmer; the land was still fertile but the colder nights and cold rains were a thing of history.

As we approached, I could hear men calling to stop Nathans approach.  We in turn stopped and listened.  It would take a few minutes before I could hear laughter.  Then a big shout came out that I immediately recognized.

“Clay!  Get over here!” It was Shem!  He was still alive!

A Brothers Reunion

I goosed the horse into a sprint and closed the distance.  Coming out of the saddle I could see his face lit brightly into a smile.  We embraced and finally I was home.

The feeling inside me I could not explain.  The day I saw Shem leave I believed that I would never see him again.  This I had settled in my mind.  I fully expected to discover the farm either torn to the ground or inhabited by someone else.

Yet here was my brother, adopted albeit, but still my brother.  He brought me to the old fire pit in front of what used to be Noah’s home.  Food was given and we began to share our first meal together since so long ago.

During the meal I learned that when Shem returned, the farm had been relatively untouched.  Men did come but they were moving fast looking for us.  Nimrod was not among that party and they had been sent to discover where we had gone.

Tracking the number of people who left the farm back then would have been so easy a child could do it.  Nimrod calculated that we would be forced to turn back south at some point along the road.  Knowing this he waited.

After our brush with him on the way South to Uz, Nimrod returned home.  He had pressing issues with the people of Akkad that began pushing into his lands.  Later, as Shem was returning to the farm, he learned that it would not be long before Nimrod was no longer an issue.

Sure enough, Ninevah fell to the Akkadians.  The old threat was gone and a new kingdom had begun.  The ruler was a man by the name of Sargon.  The powers of this Shinar region, or as called by their language Sumer, had begun its process of consolidation.

A Deeper Conversation With Shem

“Clay, tell me how you have been and about what you have seen.  Tell me about our sons and daughters and how they live.” Shem asked almost as if he had been waiting to burst this question out.

The truth was it was not easy to tell what I had found.  I detailed the cultures I had encountered. I described how so many had turned to idols, stars, and the fallen gods or what we call demons.  Deep down I believe he knew this would be the case.  Still there is nothing like hearing confirmation of one’s fear.

While this news saddened him, there was one question which he cared about more.

“Clay, did you fall away, lose hope, or find your answers?”

“I am more confused than ever.  I have found no answers in the world.  Each civilization I met had fallen into madness of one kind or another.  I have seen human sacrifice, immoralities that were praised while they destroy who we are.  All of it horrors of depravity in the name of religion.” I said.

“Tell me Clay, do you think of Yah in this way?  Do you think that He would require such things as these fallen gods do?” Shem asked.

“Before I came to your family I would have said yes.  I believed all religion was insanity.  As I began to live with you guys, the life that you all lived changed that opinion.” I replied.

“Then why is there confusion?” Shem’s question was fair.  It was honest.  It deserved an honest answer.

“If He is so good then why does He allow the horrors I have seen?  One people commits genocide eradicating another, they sacrifice their children to these gods, and then sacrifice each other.  There is no choice, no freedom, no hope for people who suffer.  So why does He let it happen?” I demanded.

“Shem, please understand that long ago I told Noah that I was not a warrior.  I did not want to take life.  This journey has forced me to do things that were horrible to save others’ lives.  So I really want to know why some are born with no chance, while others thrive when they murder, steal, and become like Nimrod was.” I stated.

I was indeed confused.  I remembered Noah telling me of why God had sent the flood to erase the evil that was before.  It was not until I had witnessed how evil mankind could be that these questions set deep into my soul.

As I laid all this bare at Shem’s feet he sat there quietly listening.  I was hoping to get some kind of reaction, confirmation, something that would prove my point was right.

This was the confusion I endured.  To see Noah’s life knowing that Yah was good and certainly different from what the world offers is obvious.  At the same time it was why this difference was allowed to happen I could not grasp.  So, how could God be called “good”?

Shem did not even bat an eye.  His gaze was as steady and understanding as Noah’s once was.  When he began to speak it would not take long for me to be cut down to size and humbled.

“Clay when you first arrived I remember you telling dad about your wife and kids.  I remember your prayer blaming God for all that had happened.  Honestly, it sounds like you are still blaming Him.”

“You are missing a massive part of our story which you have lived by seeing only one side.  Yah does not force people to follow Him, instead He allows us to choose.  We choose Him or our own desires.” He continued.

“With those choices can be consequences.  Some consequences come in that moment the choice is made.  Other consequences can take place one, two, and sometimes more generations later.  Evil is like a seed that when planted becomes a weed that will sprout and grow.  We cannot remove it.”

“Clay, God did not do those evil things, we did them.  We chose this.  So why should not a man reap what he has sown?  If a man doesn’t reap and is spared, then that is grace.  It is a miracle” Shem’s point hit home.

I sat there staring into the flames of the fire.  I could hear every word.  Each word cut into me like a knife.  The key to it all could be summed up by a single word, responsibility.  I am more than broken.  I am like glass that has been shattered into a million pieces with no hope.

Long ago I began to question the purpose of life.  I saw men live, then watched them die.  They gained and prospered, then left it to another that spent all that was gained.  I have seen men gain in wealth and power to have it taken.  The good suffer, the evil rise.

What purpose is there to living?  We torture ourselves each day to simply start over again and again and again.  In the end it is gone.

I witnessed kings build themselves monuments, towers, pyramids, but for what purpose?  After they are dead, they cannot enjoy them.  The monuments do not save them nor prevent their death.  We are like children lashing out in the world angry for what we cannot have.  The thing we desire most that is taken from us is life.

I remember my world before.  We lived a life like we were drugged or intoxicated.  The drug was things to do or consume so that our mortality was something we did not think of.  It was like a dream.  One day you look into the mirror and realize that you are older.

Still, we ignore it.  We choose our things, our schedule, our recreation, like a drug to keep our pretend purpose for living.  My problem was being here. Now I could witness how ridiculous we all are.  Just like the kings, we die not capable of stopping what will come and disappear into an unknown void.

Shem Tells Me Of Abram

As my mind was along these dark paths Shem interrupted.  I looked at him and he had his old goofy smile, and his eyes were bright in the firelight.

“Hey, I have some good news.  Do you remember me telling you that I had to return to the farm because I believed Yah would send a man?  He is here.” Shem said.

This got my attention.  “What do you mean he is here?”

He continued “Long ago when Adam and Eve fell and sin entered the world there was a promise given.  It was a promise that there would be one who would come to fix all that is wrong.  I believe that this man is one chosen to carry forward this hope, this dream, and God’s promised message.”

“Clay I want you to meet him.  You should clean up and get some rest.  Tomorrow I will introduce you to him and you can tell me what you think about him.”

I was certainly curious, especially about this one who was promised to “fix” everything.  Shem was right in that I needed to rest.  I had not been in a bed in so long I could not remember what it felt like.  One last question did pick away at my curiosity.

“What is this guys name?” I asked.
“His name is Abram.” Shem said with a smile.

“Alright I will meet him with you tomorrow.  I don’t know how he can have any more answers than your dad or you would have, but okay.  I will see you in the morning.”

I stood and began walking down the old path to my little shed.  It was still there.  When I arrived, walking through the door to the little room with my cot, it felt like coming home.  The water basin had been filled for me to clean myself.

I turned to begin removing my coat and saw a scroll made of parchment laying on the bed.  I picked it up.  Fortunately in the previous years I had learned how to read the original language.  Jared helped me with learning this.

Breaking the seal I rolled the parchment out and began reading.

“Forgive me for not addressing you by name.  To those that know of you, we call you the Walking Nomad.  I have come here after being told by God to meet with Shem, and I hoped to find you as well.  I have left this with the hope that you will be willing to meet with me.
Abram”

People knew about me?  This guy Abram knew about me?  I know we managed to kick up some dust in places with our journeys, but I had no idea there was some kind of reputation.  I had already agreed to meet this guy when Shem asked me, so it was no big deal.

Right now I needed rest despite it being early evening.  I washed, lay down, and went to sleep.  This sleep would be different from the many before it.

One other time I dreamed this same dream.  A large room, a brilliant light at its center, a rainbow of colors filling the air above it.  Those disks flying back and forth I could see once again.  This time something different happened.

The voice was unlike anything I have ever heard.  If I could describe it, the sound was like the roar of water, if water could speak.  The words were simple.

“Go with him.”