If it really was the voice of Elohim, surely He would reveal His will to Isaac and his father, Abraham!
She felt the soft little hand of her child curl around her finger. Looking down she remembered again that it was this hand that had grabbed the heel of his brother. She laughed a tight, bitter laugh. “We will call you Jacob, the supplanter, the cheater of his brother, the heel grabber,” she murmured in utter frustration. “We will see if even Elohim can manage to give you the blessing and the birthright when your father has already announced it will go to Esau.”
It was some time later that Isaac discovered another child had been born. “What will we call him?” he asked Rebekah.
“I have already named him Jacob,” she said, hoping he would get the subtle message and remember the prediction.
He looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled. “You can name this one; I have already named our firstborn Esau.”
It was spring and the time was fast approaching for celebrating the fifteenth birthday of Isaac’s twins. It was also a happy, joyful time, for during these years Abraham and his family had prospered in a most astonishing way. The winter rains had been abundant and one saw bright clumps of flowers thriving in unexpected places and even more surprising, large patches of winter wheat.
Abraham had used the learning of Ur to produce this miracle. In Ur the land was barren except for the areas that were irrigated. “Any land will become fruitful with water,” he said. “Dig wells, take advantage of the winter rains, and this will no longer be barren land.”
Not only had the land become productive, but his flocks of sheep and goats had multiplied in an amazing way. The fine quality of his wool was acclaimed and sought after, not only in the cities along the central ridge but also in the coastal cities as far north as Byblos, Ugarit, and Carchemish. The scraped and treated sheepskins were often carried down into Egypt where they became sandals, cushions, and even vellum for writing.
Abraham had become a man of vast and enviable wealth. This was to be both the source of his great satisfaction and his growing problem. The men of the cities and the traders along the caravan routes looked at him with greedy eyes. It all looked so easy and they coveted the same success.
It had also been more than thirty-five years since Keturah had become Abraham’s concubine, and in this time she had blessed him with six strong, healthy sons. They were quick to learn, and he had observed with pride how easily they could master any physical feat. In competitions of brawn or muscle, they all excelled.
Two of them, Ishbak and Shuah, were about the same age as Isaac’s twins. Abraham had noticed with growing concern that they tended to seek out Esau for their adventures but ignored Jacob. As a result, Jacob was more inclined to be in his mother’s tent learning her tricks of making a succulent lentil stew or helping to turn a young lamb on the spit. The boy must be lonely at times, Abraham thought.
When the men sat around the campfire in the evening, Jacob kept to himself and only listened to the men talk. Esau and the sons of Keturah were always in the midst of any discussion. They never seemed to lack tales of adventure that involved both skill and raw courage. Abraham was too old now to enter into the heady excitement of either the hunt or the games of physical skill, and so he too sat and listened and watched.
He noticed how Isaac’s eyes shone with pride as Esau fearlessly wrestled and sometimes even bested the sons of Keturah. He would challenge them to target practice with their bows and arrows just so he could see Esau excel. He could not restrain himself from bragging about the attainments of his handsome son. He never seemed to notice Jacob. It was as though the boy didn’t even exist, and yet Jacob was much more like Isaac had been at the same age.
As the competition between Keturah’s sons and Esau grew more fierce, Abraham saw with alarm that what had at first seemed good and healthy had grown almost ugly and destructive. It was slowly disrupting the peace of the camp. Rebekah and Keturah were no longer friends. They watched their sons from a distance and became bitter if their sons were not the favored ones. Isaac was unwittingly a part of the whole dilemma. He was so proud of his more aggressive son, Esau, that he was often unfair to Keturah’s sons and totally oblivious to the needs of his second son, Jacob.
Abraham had long ago explained to Keturah that her sons were not to receive the birthright or the blessing. At first she had accepted this without anger or resentment. However, as the competition grew between her sons and Esau, she began to pout and cast dark looks at Rebekah and Isaac. She had even tried by cunning and craftiness to turn Abraham from his intentions.