The Adventures of Tishbe
By Katie Swank

Tishbe’s life was full of adventure.  A day didn’t pass without something amazing happening.  He tried with all his might to shock his mother with the stories he would tell her at the end of each day as they gathered around the dinner table.  

He never could, because each morning held something special, each afternoon uncovered something awe inspiring, and each evening was a grand crescendo, so he had desensitized her response.  This never discouraged him, however, every evening when he got home he would try with all his might to impress his mom.

Tishbe was a scruffy kid, if you were to see him at any given moment you would catch him looking pretty much the same as last time. This fact was comforting as it was such a predictable appearance of someone who was 100% boy.  Even when his mom tried to brush his hair for temple it was as if it had a mind of its own. 

Boing!!

It would erupt back into its favorite place, standing straight up on the top of his head, in spite of the honest attempts his mom made to brush those crazy strands into some type of order.  He loved having her brush his hair though and he would patiently and lovingly wait while she would hum his favorite song, the one she wrote when he was born. It was always sung from a heart full of love for her son, God’s great gift for her.  One she humbly knew she did not deserve.

Tishbe’s clothes were always out of sorts too.  Even though his mom took great care to sew and mend, the adventures would win every single day and the evidence of each crazy encounter would be left behind on his tunic in one way or another.  

In spite of his clothes and his hair, Tishbe was a very handsome kid.  He was strong and powerful and able to do any task with capability and ease.  Each of his talents were given to him from the Lord.  He loved that no adventure or obstacle could prevail against the skills the Lord had blessed him with, he was confident he would always overcome with his faith in the one true God.

Tishbe could hear his mother before he could see her.  No matter how hard he tried to wake up before her, it was the race she always won.  He imagined that she would simply always be there because of it.  He knew no day without her there, in the tent (or outside of it), completing task after task, tirelessly, with no rest. Day in and day out, beginning and end she worked hard, she was steadfast and unmovable in her dedication to succeed.  

Each morning, she was in her kitchen, humming with joy as she baked fresh bread, he knew this because the smell permeated the room he was sleeping in.  He could hear her cleaning up after her early morning baking routine, the sound and the smell made his heart almost burst with joy. 

He loved his mother so much, and his father too, but his father was rarely there for he was a mighty diplomat in the Israelite army.  Tishbe’s life was blessed by the Creator in ways he wasn’t yet fully aware of. 

“Another day, Lord, and it has you in it.  What adventure do you have in store?” He wondered happily.

Tishbe knew that God was building him, each day he grew more and more aware of the calling.  He could hear the Lord in the wind, he could smell the fragrance of Him in the willows, he could feel God’s presence everywhere. The power of creation was brewing inside of Him and he knew each adventure was leading him to one grand adventure that would far surpass the rest.  One day he would do something so wonderful that it would be written down.  A heaven-sent legacy that would be passed down from generation to generation.  

In the mean time, Tishbe had stuff to do. 

Tishbe rolled out of bed, and bounded into the kitchen, the sun had not yet come up.  “At least I beat you again, sun, even though I can’t beat mom”, he chuckled at the thought.

“Dawn will be waiting for me, and she never likes to be left for too long.  I have to hurry up.”

He brushed passed his mother while grabbing two pieces of fresh slice of bread, and yelled, “I love you mom, thanks for the yummy breakfast, see you tonight!”

His mother looked up for a split second with a smile on her face and waved as she said, “I love you too sweet boy, have fun on your adventure today.  I can’t wait to hear all about it!”

The morning was beautiful. ‘One of my favorite.’ he thought to himself. The air was clear and crisp and he filled his lungs with it as he ran quickly to meet up with his best friend. 

Tishbe was so careful and so quiet as he tried to sneak up on his friend Dawn, but she could never be surprised. She had been taught by the best, and her tracking skills were unmatched.  She anticipated her friend and pretended to not hear his feet break the twigs, smell his stink in the air and see the wild shadow his frame cast on the sand…”oh Tishbe,” she murmured., “will you ever learn?”

“Ah—haaaa!“

He yelled as he grabbed her shoulders and leaped over her head as she was crouched by the babbling brook.  He threw his body right into the deep water in front of her and jumped up bringing with him arm fulls of the chilly liquid with him and tossed it at her face. 

This action immediately caused the first adventure of the day.  A water fight ensued for the next 15 minutes, leaving them refreshed, laughing and lying to dry by the brook’s bank.

As they were watching the sun peek its first morning rays over the proud heads of the mountains, they heard a sound, it was faint and strange, one that they hadn’t heard before.  

“What could that be?” they both whispered at the same time.

They immediately went into adventure-stealth-mode and crept in silence (well, Tishbe tried) towards the sound.

As they approached the old familiar olive tree around the bend and up the straight and narrow way, they saw him.  He was leaning up against the tree, covered in blood. 

“What is going on?” Dawn whispered to Tishbe. “Who is that?” She wondered.

“Let’s go find out,” he answered. 

Chapter 2 – What Happens Next?

“What?!” She whispered back. “I don’t think so.” 

You see, even though Tishbe was her best friend and she loved his adventurous nature, she was his voice of reason. And even though he would never really listen to her she always felt like her words carried some weight – she would privately tell her mother this during their evening talks in frustration (and a bit of admiration). 

“But please don’t tell anyone I feel this way…” she would always end their talks like this as well. 

At Tishbe’s house, the recap was quite the opposite.

“Which is why my life is so full of adventure you see,” Tishbe would tell his mother, ‘if I listened to her I would have never seen this, or done that or had this awful gash in my thigh.  And what a boring day that would have been, right mom?’

Most of the time his mother would be shaking her beautiful hair which was always pulled back into a pretty bun back and forth as she would carefully clean his broken and battered everything when he arrived home.  She was ready with stitches for skin or for cloth, and always expected both.

Back at the adventure at hand, Tishbe rushed out from behind the brush they were hiding behind and rushed over to the wounded kid’s side.  He could see the wounds were much greater up close than he imagined they were farther away.  

“Oh boy, you’ve had an adventure of your own my friend,” he whispered under his breath.  “Dawn, get over here, this guy needs our help, and we’re going to do just that.  Help him.”

Dawn was always reluctant, but always obedient to her friend, she was a wise child and she knew the Creator too.  She knew that God had a calling on her friend’s life and she was simply along for the ride.  

She rushed over to his side and said, “What do we do? This guy is such a big boy, and he is in pretty bad shape.  How are we going to move him?”

Tishbe knew, and he was always equipped for every good work.  With knife in hand he cut part of his tunic, used part of Dawn’s belt on her dress and fashioned a stretcher from the limbs of the olive tree.  He was a master craftsman at such a young age.  His talents never stopped impressing Dawn each day.  They carefully guided the wounded boy who was out of consciousness at the time onto the stretched and they each took a side and began dragging him back to Tishbe’s house.  

They arrived back home just before noon.  His mother was by the brook doing the washing for the day and could see their familiar heads peak up over the hill.

This was strange, Tishbe and Dawn never came home at this time.  They always foraged for their lunch in the wilderness and Tishbe never came home until dark for dinner.  She could see they were dragging a stretcher and she rushed towards them.

“What do we have here?” she gently whispered to her son and his friend.  “Father forgive them, who has done this to this boy.  Bring him inside Tishbe.  I’ll do everything I can to make him well.”

Tishbe knew that if anyone could, it was his mother.  She was amazing.  They brought the boy inside his home and helped his mother get him onto the mat on the floor by the fire.  His mother immediately began cleaning the wounds, dressing them and got the boy as comfortable as she could.  The journey toward healing would take time, but this boy was in the best hands.   If anyone could make him well, it would be his mother, the Lord worked miracles through her hands and he loved her dearly.  Tishbe and Dawn said a prayer for healing and walked back outside.

They went to the brook to gather more water for his mother.  While they were walking they wondered out loud what had happened to the boy.  

“Should we go back to that spot and look for clues?” Dawn asked.

They were about to leave and rush back fully excited about the prospect of finding clues about the kid who was beat to an inch of his life when they saw an ominous and very familiar shadow looming over them. This large shadow fully covered both of them with room to spare.  Tishbe knew who it was right away, he spun around with arms stretched out, and hollered, “DAD!”

Chapter 3 – Dad

Billowing laugher, which perhaps shook the nearby mountains, erupted from the lower part of Gilead’s throat.  His son.  When was the last time he held Tishbe like this?  He couldn’t remember.  He had been at war for way too long, and the war wasn’t over.  Yet, the injury he received during his last encounter with the enemy was more than he could bear, and now he was finally home.  

Gilead buried his face into his son’s bushy hair. He drank in a delicious drink of his son’s aroma, the sweet smelling aroma from the Lord, and held him tight until he felt the gentle hands of the love of his life.  He looked down at her with the bluest eyes God had ever made.  The blue was so crystal clear that they looked transparent, allowing a view into his soul only she was allowed to see.  He carefully put Tishbe down, and held her as gently as he could.

Ouch Gilead! She exclaimed, you are hurting me she giggled, teasing him.  This man, she thought, it’s been so long, but it now feels like no time has passed.  Thank you Lord.

“Dad! Dad! Dad!” Tishbe screamed at him and interrupted his mom and dad’s embrace. 

“Dad!” jump, jump, jump, Tisbe’s wild body spun around his parents and his antics finally succeeded in their plight. Full of energy, Tishbe told his dad about his morning adventure.

“I found a boy and he is in bad shape, me and Dawn built a stretcher in the wilderness and brought him home to mom and he is in the tent right now.  Wanna come see?”

Gilead loved his son’s adventures and loved the stories he would tell.  “Sure son, let’s go see what you and Dawn have been up to.”

His large hand touched the top of Dawn’s beautiful golden hair and made her blue eyes sparkle. “Good day to you Dawn, have you been taking care of my boy while I was gone?” Gilead asked.

She look at him so sweetly and said, “Yes sir, as best i can, he is absolutely wild as you well know.”

They all walked into their tent and the second Gilead laid eyes on the body of the broken boy, a look passed over his face that everyone recognized right away.  Trouble.

“Who is he, dad,” Tishbe asked, “do you know him?”

Gilead took his family outside and gathered them close.  “That is Ahab, the son of King Omri.  I have watched him grow up under the daunting care of his father, the king of Israel.  His story is extremely troubling as his father has continued in the wicked ways of King Jeraboam.

Gilead’s large hand wiped over his brow trying to erase the stress that swept through his mind. He closed his eyes together tightly. He knew what had happened, and the understanding made his large shoulders lower with the weight.

Come and sit around the fire, the day is beginning to end, the sun is setting and it is time for me to tell you what has been going on at work.

Even though they knew that this conversation would be heavy, they adored listening to the head of the household tell them stories.  His voice was so comforting because they knew in the end, that everything was going to be okay. 

Gilead was heavily respected everywhere he went.  His integrity was his legacy, and his power and might were his resume.  Gilead was wise and wonderful and commanded respect from all sides.  His love for the Lord is how he led everything he did, and so God had anointed him with his grace and mercy.  

The family gathered close around the fire as the chill of the darkest night began to close around them.  In spite of the deepest black of darkness, happy twinkling stars began to dance in the sky, celebrating the reunion of this sweet family. As Tishbe looked up and rejoiced in their blessing, he imagined that they wanted to listen too.

“As you all know, began Gilead as they all settled in comfortably, “my boss, King Omri is our sixth ruler of the Northern Kingdom, and he has been reigning for just over a year. He has been one of Israel’s most powerful military and political leaders.  I was employed under him during the civil war. Commander Omri’s dedication to consistency allowed him to hold tremendous respect from all his officers.  He was wise, decisive in battle, and extremely successful in all his campaigns.  

Omri, however, did not inherit his throne. I believe that he was always wanting more as a leader, how could he not, he was always hungry for more in battle. Behind closed doors, he had always been planning a coup for years. And finally, when the opportunity presented itself, he seized it. He wanted to be king more than anything else and so to finally be crowned as Israel’s 6th, he was all to gracious to recieve this offer from the people. But this kingdom was earned through military might and a brutal civil war, not by God’s anointing, like mighty King David of the past. 

Tishbe was curious, as he was always asking passerby about his dad, the war, and listening in on conversations that the soldiers discussed as they patrolled the area. 

“Dad, did Omri plan the assassination of King Elah?”

“No son,” Gilead said, “Omri was not involved in Zimri’s assassination of King Elah; in fact, Omri led the opposition against Zimri.  He wanted Israel to succeed, however I could see what was happening behind closed doors son, and I was not happy with the path he was taking. I had hope however, because his initial intent was pure and righteous, wanting nothing but to protect Israel’s king.”

Gilead continued, “The unfortunate assassination of King Elah of Israel was due to a combination of divine judgment for idolatry, political vulnerability caused by military absence, and personal negligence due to severe drunkenness. I wrote many letters to King Elah, warning him that his choices were leading him to destruction, but my wisdom was never adhered to.”

I believe the ultimate reason behind Elah’s death was divine retribution. Elah’s father, King Baasha, had gained the throne by assassinating their previous king. However, Baasha quickly repeated the same sins of wickedness and false idol worship. Sin never works out for anyone, this fact has been proven time and time again.