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The Joshua Covenant

By Diane Munson, David Munson

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Julia Rider bounced onto the cable car with a smile, her dream of journeying to this old-new land finally coming true. She marveled at the aqua sea rolling against Israel’s northern coast. Suddenly the steepest cable car in the world lurched and she rocketed down the sharp cliffs.
Panic erupted, crawling up her throat. How could she remain calm in front of her children? Though Gregg and Glenna giggled at the fast approaching water, Julia tried to steel herself. Strong winds jolting the cable car roiled her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“At the bottom, I’m searching for gold coins,” Gregg shouted over roaring winds.
Julia gripped the middle railing, wishing she hadn’t listened to Clara Cohen. The Ambassador’s wife had coaxed her and the kids to join the last-second tour with other embassy wives to the towering Rosh ha-Nikra and the grottos. Her husband, Bo, toiled at the U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv, completing an urgent project for his new boss, Ambassador Hal Cohen.
Someone shook Julia’s arm and she popped open an eye.
“Mom, look! You’re missing the best part.” Gregg pointed at rugged cliffs zooming by.
Julia blinked. In her eleven-year-old son’s shining gray eyes she glimpsed a much younger version of Bo. Would he follow his father’s footsteps into the CIA? A shudder ripped through her. Bo lived to take risks and she didn’t want Gregg living in constant jeopardy. At least Bo’s new assignment in the State Department kept him close to home. Well, on most days.
“Cool! Watch those jets diving,” Gregg chirped, his nose plastered against the window.
Julia’s daring glance upwards was rewarded by the sight of a
jet swooping dangerously low. She reached for Glenna, and her
thirteen-year-old daughter hurtled toward her just as two more fighter jets roared overhead. A moment later a huge explosion and fireball erupted in the sky.
“Wow!” Gregg jumped. “The second jet blew the first one out of the air!”
“Mom!” Glenna screamed.

Heart pounding, Julia clutched her daughter as debris crashed around their wobbling cable car. Sharp pieces of metal and she knew not what else fell into the blue Mediterranean waters below. Fear climbed her throat and she felt powerless to save her kids before they were killed.
She’d always heard the Israeli military was superb. Could this be some excessive training exercise? The car docked at the bottom and screaming tourists pushed out of the exit. A hand gripped Julia’s shoulder and a raspy voice croaked, “Follow me back to the bus.”
“We will!” Julia cried, looking into Clara Cohen’s black eyes. Julia whisked her kids from the clumsy car, planting her feet on the path back to the bus. A loud siren wailed, mimicking the panic in her heart and mind.
A voice barked orders over an intercom, intensifying the chaos. She couldn’t understand one word of the Hebrew. Then miraculously Moshe, their Israeli tour guide, began directing them in English.
“Run! Get to the shelter. This is no drill.”
Clara caught Julia’s hand and together with Glenna and Gregg, the four of them sprinted past a group of gun-toting Israeli soldiers herding tourists through a metal door. They shot down concrete steps into a dimly lit shelter, where Julia tried to catch her breath. Lungs heaving, she asked, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing to worry about I am sure.” Clara shrugged.
Moshe confided in a hushed whisper, “An Israeli fighter shot down an Iranian plane.”
“But we are nowhere near Iran.”
Julia grabbed Gregg’s shirttail, but her son flitted away. Moshe had more to tell.
“Iranians are the puppet masters of Lebanon, only a few kilometers from here.”
Julia huddled Glenna to her side, certain her ultra-sensitive daughter was as frightened as she in the dank shelter. A noisy mix of Hebrew, English, and other languages swirled around them. She desperately wanted Bo. Yanking out her cell, she was lifting her phone to call him when Clara jabbed an arm toward her.
“Your cell will not work this deep below ground.”
Julia had to try. She punched in Bo’s number, pressing her cell to her ear. It didn’t ring. She slid the phone back in its holder, her heart sinking. Was this shelter even secure? How long would they have to remain below ground—hours, days? Before she could express her
worries to Clara, the Ambassador’s wife cajoled Julia and Glenna to a quieter corner.
“At four years old, I survived a tornado ripping apart our house. Living in Israel on and off for twelve years, I am prepared for abrupt change.”
“I can handle storms,” Julia groaned, “but explosions in front of my children are terrifying.”
“You must be bold in the face of your enemy or you will expire.”
What a strange comment. A sudden movement prompted Julia to glimpse Gregg punching the walls as if searching for a secret chamber. Glenna sniffled at Julia’s side. Moshe strode around acting important with his badge and bullhorn.
“Israel will meet any test Iran throws at our defenses. Because we shot down their plane, they will leave us alone for weeks. Once the all clear sounds, we board the bus. I do not suppose anyone wants to see more of the area, do you?”
“I want to see more jets,” Gregg said, whistling loudly just like Bo might have done.
Glenna looked up asking, “Can we go home?”
In the meager light Julia saw tears hovering on her lashes. “You heard Moshe say we could leave once they announce the all clear.”
“I mean home, to Virginia.”
What could Julia say? Words of truth she’d read a few hours ago swelled in her heart and she hugged her trembling daughter in a tight embrace.
“Sweetie, God sees us in this shelter. He’ll protect us from all harm.”
“You think so, Mom?”
“With my whole heart,” she said stroking her hair. “Remember when the Israelites crossed into the Promised Land? God told Joshua that He would never leave or forsake him.”
“Yeah, thousands of years ago. You told me.”
Julia patted Glenna’s head. “God sent Jesus to be our shepherd.”
“I know,” Glenna sniffed, wiping her eyes with her hands. “In Nazareth yesterday, Dr. Van Horn said a shepherd protects sheep from wolves.”
“There are no wild animals down here,” Gregg blurted.
“Mom means from danger,” Glenna corrected. “We shouldn’t be so scared.”
Gregg laughed out loud. “You’re the ’fraidy cat, not me.”
“Gregg, leave your sister alone,” Julia said, her voice echoing around the shelter.
“Dad will think the exploding jet was awesome. You’ll see.”
Gregg dashed over to Moshe and pulled on his sleeve; however, Julia couldn’t hear what he asked. Her mind alerted to the future. How could they survive in the Middle East where violence sprouted like poison mushrooms? Embroiled in the terrible possibilities, Julia was haunted by her words of moments ago. She must rely on her new faith in God and not just say so.
Besides, she didn’t want Glenna growing into a fearful young woman. On the other hand, her son parading around the dark shadows made her pause. She didn’t relish Gregg becoming a soldier or secret agent as Bo had done, emulating his own father, Douglas MacArthur Rider.
“You are wise to rely on your faith,” Clara said, giving Julia a moment’s respite from thoughts of danger. “My mother took me and my sister to Temple and we kept every Sabbath.”
“Do you attend Temple with the Ambassador?”
“Hal is too busy with his job. Perhaps I should make an effort to attend myself.”
Clara turned away. Julia pondered how her own faith in God had deepened in the two weeks since arriving in Israel. Still, hiding in a bomb shelter with her children made her heart pound. She wiped clammy hands on her slacks. With Bo’s new assignment in such a dangerous place, would they face more explosions? Someone started shouting in Hebrew and Julia flinched.
“Are more jets flying overhead?” she asked Moshe.
“No. Our IDF is protecting us. Follow me upstairs and head right to the bus.”
Julia took Glenna by the hand, then grabbed Gregg’s shirtsleeve, herding them upstairs. She quickly scanned the blue sky for fighters. Seeing none, she phoned Bo, bursting to tell her husband about the Iranian attack. His voice mail didn’t even click on.
Clara held her cell phone high in the air, a scowl marbling her forehead. “The signals are jammed. I cannot reach Hal either.”
Julia hurried to the bus. Gregg kept his eyes aimed at the sky and Julia had to push him on board, where she sank into a cushioned seat behind Clara. Gregg barreled to the window next to Clara, insisting he had to see any new action.
As soon as the driver turned the large bus, Clara swiveled her
head to Julia. “We are going straight to Tel Aviv. In the embassy I have something to take your mind off trouble.”
“Okay,” Julia said with little zeal for another of Clara’s schemes.
Look how their excursion to the northern border of Israel had turned out. Julia dearly hoped no more surprises would erupt on their way home. She shut her eyes, trying to calibrate Bo’s reaction when he learned the Israeli military had shot down an Iranian fighter a fraction above their heads. Did he even know of the explosion?
The bus tore down the highway and Julia opened her eyes, shaken by Glenna’s thin, pale face. In the morning they were supposed to go with Dr. Van Horn to visit the famous King Solomon’s mines, but Bo’s work plans meant he couldn’t join them. Should she cancel the plan?
When Bo first shared they’d be coming to Israel, Julia had laughed with delight. Easy to do in the safety of Virginia; she’d so longed to see the cradle of Christian civilization firsthand. Dr. Van Horn’s books and teachings had stoked her appetite to explore the lands of the Bible.
The bus jerked around a corner. Julia jolted and her mind veered from her safe suburban home to unknown trouble looming ahead. She smoothed the gleaming hair of her sleeping daughter with an unwavering conviction: Coming to Israel had been a terrible mistake after all.

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