Against All Odds

“You’re not alone,” the voice had said. Which was exactly what he was afraid of.

He still didn’t know who was up there, but for now whoever it was seemed happy to stay put.  His ears strained for the sound of bowstrings pulling taut, but all he could hear was his own pulsating heartbeat.

Why didn’t they do something? Make a move, his mind demanded. His fingers gripped the winnowing fork while he waited for the certain arrow that must be aimed at his heart. Cowards. If it was a fight they wanted . . . they should pick on somebody their own size.

The tree branches rustled again. “You are one mighty warrior,” the voice emphasized. “I can tell the Lord is with you.”

Gideon threw his weapon down in frustration and headed for the ladder. “Okay, that’s enough!” he yelled, taking the rungs in two’s. “Who are you and what do you want?” Quickly, he cleared the edge of the rocky enclosure and jumped back where he had a clear view of the tree and its sarcastic intruder.

The man seated beneath the broad expanses of branches returned Gideon’s gaze but made no move. He was unremarkable. And unarmed. He could have been anybody from among the other families hiding out in the hills, only he wasn’t. Gideon had never seen him before. Drawing his eyebrows together, he crossed his arms over his chest as he scrutinized the visitor.

“This is all God’s fault you know,” he tested. The man was silent. “He’s punishing us. We probably deserve it, but our kids are innocent and He’s punishing them, too. What kind of a God is that? If you ask me, He’s no better than all the weird ones they’re so crazy about down in Midian.”

The stranger listened but made no reply.

Gideon’s fear transformed to anger. “I’m not even sure I believe in God anymore,” he shouted. “I’ve heard the stories. Everybody has. But that’s all they are—just stories. If there is a God, and I doubt it, He’s turned His back on us and sold us all out.” He spat on the ground. “I don’t even have enough strength to argue with you. Why don’t you just leave, whoever you are.” His eyes narrowed, his fists at his side. “And take your mocking words with you.”

The man beneath the tree took a breath instead. “Why don’t you go?” he challenged. “Go in the strength that you have. You’re the one who’s supposed to save your people from their oppressors.”

Gideon’s mouth fell open and he staggered back against a rough boulder. I’m the one? he thought. Is he kidding? What kind of cosmic joke is this?

“Are you out of your mind?” he sputtered, tempted to laugh but too shocked to go that direction. “I’m nobody! Who’d even listen to me? You’ve got the wrong guy. You’ve got me mixed up with somebody else.”

Something resembling a smile crossed the stranger’s face. There was no scorn in it. Just, kindness. It was so weird, it stripped Gideon of his defensiveness and he sagged against the rock at his back.

“You’re not alone,” the man said for the second time. “I’ll be there. Trust me about this—you’re going to take them all down.”

This was crazy. He must be hallucinating. Maybe it was hotter down in that hole than he’d realized. Blinking, Gideon rubbed at his eyes hoping the mirage he was talking to would evaporate, but when he opened them the stranger was still there. This nameless guy and he were going to take out 135,000 men. Just the two of them. An unarmed braggart and a terrified farmer holding a winnowing stick. Two against 135,000. It was just about the worst odds he’d ever heard of.

They were toast.

He heaved a sigh and shook his head. He knew he should have brought more water to drink when he came up here tonight. Still, something about this guy made him curious. It had been more than seven years since he’d heard anybody speak with this kind of confidence. Outnumbered more than four to one, they’d all just laid down and played dead. Oh, this was ridiculous. Why didn’t this nut go away and find some other loser to annoy?

“Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Gideon said, his voice dripping with bitterness. “If you’re telling the truth, you’re gonna have to prove it.”

Once again, the other man smiled, his head tilted to the side. Then he nodded. “Sure,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

Nothing. Gideon didn’t have anything in mind. He wasn’t sure if he was even in possession of his mind at the moment. He felt his stomach growl. That was it. If this guy was on the level, there was one way he could prove it.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he told the stranger.

The visitor nodded, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

“I’ve got all the time in the world,” he said.

With thanks to Tanya Hart for the expansive oak seen above. The original can be viewed by following this link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/arripay/