SEVERAL thoughts stormed Micah’s chest as he rode back home.
Every once in a while he took a small glance at the gift he got from his mother. The wooden god he was carrying home.
The words of his mother hit him afresh.
Perhaps, you can someday find your answer from this!
That was what the old woman counselled. But those words came back now, demanding more.
Micah reasoned: What do I do with Mother’s gift? How do I worship this thing?
Should I make a shrine for it in my house? Should I make it a household god?
Just then the man gave words to his thoughts.
‘Wait a moment… I can make my children serve it also! We can all worship this immortality my mother made.
‘So my wife and sons will call this gift god! My house and I will serve this thing.’
The Ephraim-born pondered those several things; and he decided his path as he cantered home on a donkey.
Then as he came close to his house and saw it appear in the distance, he found the sort of answer he was looking for.
The answer to how best he could worship the idol.
There in the distance, Micah saw his firstborn son Dinuel. He saw the young man wave some men goodbye as they left his house.
That instant he could tell what was going on. As that scenario wasn’t new to the middle-aged man.
Dinuel was the pride and joy of this earnest man. For he was in every way different from the people of the land, as Micah also was.
And to cap things up, he was even better than Micah his father.
Indeed, the lad was a boy with gold for a soul.
Yes, Micah’s firstborn and pride would welcome travellers into the house when they were stranded on their paths.
He’d offer them water to drink and to wash their dusty feet. Then he’d open up his chamber for the strangers to rest for the night.
On top of everything, Dinuel cooked meals for the poor every Sabbath…
Out of the grains he reaped from his humble farm.
‘This is the reason my good son has just enough to stay alive!’ remarked the father as he sighted him.
‘My son’s too good to have a mortal soul!’ he said. ‘Too pure to be my child!’
Indeed, the middle-aged man said it well. For if Micah was called pious, Dinuel was the piety that made him so.
Now the man felt his son was closer to God than anyone around.
Right there, Micah made a decision.
This kind of idol definitely needs a priest. And not just any kind of priest, but a worthy one whose soul is as pure as Heaven!
He spoke up. ‘But here in my house is that pure and precious soul!
‘Now if I make a righteous son my priest, I hope God will draw near to me!’
With that spoken, Micah hastened his donkey and rode right home.
For he’d decided to hand down his mother’s legacy.
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