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The Art of Amnesia

The Christian Letter, Volume One: Chapter 25

“I am a captive of slavery. I have never been free. 400 years have passed, but today there was a whisper about of a glimmer of hope. Is freedom even a possibility from the distress of Egypt?” Yes, I am speaking of Exodus as if I was there. A captive for longer than America has been a nation. Like a very old amnesia, or bits and pieces of diaries of an Exodus slave, so are my thoughts of how my reactions may have been, had I, another freed slave of Yahoweh’s, been there.

“For 400 hundred years my family has worked for an empire that treats us as nothing but oxen to pull carts of stone with. We don’t live long, and as of late our children have been killed. We have no Word, only old stories of a Power and a Promise. We can see what is ahead. More work! And then, if we are lucky, more work. Those not so blessed … die. We do what we are told. We have customs and traditions we keep. We keep them because they keep us. Our master is the Egyptians, and for them to know we have another would be our death. Much of what we once knew is lost. The names of storehouses and tales of miracles are a thing of the past. We cry out. Some still hope. Others know not what that is.”

“Events occur that cannot be fathomed. The one who fled has returned. He said the righteousness of our Fathers will make His Name known. We know His Name already as it has once again found whisper in our camp. What does this mean? Does the Name mean Deliverer? He would have to be a Warrior to deliver us.”

“‘Run! Run! Run! Don’t look back! The Egyptians are coming after us!’ I turn and see a thousand chariots and more men than I can count. Fear makes my legs weak and my heart weaker. We are caught in a valley of no escape! We are doomed! Water in front. Rock to the side. And Death is close on our tail. They are so close I can hear their screams. So close, I swear my neck feels the horses’ breath. Oh, dry earth full of sand, there is no doubt you will soon be filled with my blood.”

“Alone with hundreds of thousands I sit on the shore of the sea. Its cold waves chilling my feet. A wall of fire behind me warming my back. So many questions. So many doubts. So many hopes. I am scared. I am very scared. A few weeks ago I would just now be waking up and starting to work. I am so tired from walking and running this far. I tried to talk to Moses, but he was so deep in prayer I couldn’t get his attention to ask unknowable questions. No one can fathom what I feel like right now. Not even me.”

“How can words describe? And even if they could. The waters stood to the side of us. The waters parted! There are the Egyptians. The ones that killed my father and mother. The ones that killed my son. The ones that beat me for enjoyment. They are dead. … They are dead. I took from the edge of the water one of their whips and one spear. … I have scars from these.”

“Why us? Why are we so special? Is a promise to a friend of long ago worth an act today? Or are the rumors true? Is this One … faithful beyond measure? Moses asked us today, ‘Will you obey Yahoweh?’ There was no hesitation. I shouted yes … I shouted so loud I heard none else.”

Those of us who have had, or still have, amnesia, know there is no romance to it. Just emptiness. The amnesia of our ancestors has been passed down to us. A great miracle happened, but, like a friendship that has bumps in the road, we sometimes forget all those miles of peace. But, unlike our ancestral brothers and sisters, we have His Word and the resources to study so we can once and for all remove the amnesia and find the Truth bit by bit. I pray that these Letters I am sending you will help. They are my studies. Pleas to myself for betterment, and cries to those I love for the same joy of living in, not amnesia, but in the Spirit and Truth of Exodus.

Awaken

Be Blessed and be a Blessing
Shalom

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Additional Scripture References:
Genesis 22:17, Exodus 15:1-11, Joshua 24:14-17

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