JACOB and Rachael

It was a long night until tomorrow.
In the thick dark it seemed as though a lifetime might have passed. The air was heavy with our breathing and our trying. Trying to make lovers of strangers. But, how strange itself to have misplaced the crashing passion that had driven us to this night. How strange the sensation of sinking, of falling back and looking up, of helplessly falling back. The rift, it seemed, had come again and with power.

"Rachael, please, you have to tell me what's wrong. Just, what is it? I thought you...I thought we...I just don't understand what's happened here. Where has all the passion gone? Why this distance? Is it that you all of a sudden afraid of me? What something have I done wrong?"

"No, Jacob. It's not you. It's me, I just need time. I love you, Jacob, but you have to understand, you're the only man I've ever looked at to love and to desire. And my guess is that you must have known many of the women who follow the trade routes. You are practiced in these arts while I have to confess that I know nothing about how to love you. But, I promise, tomorrow I'll be better. Can you wait? Can you be patient as I grow to be more like you?"

"Rachael, whose heart is sweeter than honey!" I do love you, too. You are my wife now, this night and for always. We'll work together at our love 'til it blossoms full with beauty like the rose. It's what He has planned for us, I can see that."

The strength of our marriage had been sealed but the flower of our love had yet to open and so we gave ourselves to sleep, nothing more succeeding to stir the bed to action. But, before sleep, she said it again. And again and again that night:

"Tomorrow, I'll be better."

I slept a fitful night's sleep waiting on the tomorrow. I dreamed that I was falling, backward into a deep chasm.

In it, I discovered the meaning of the rift.

JACOB and Rachael

It was a rift; deep as a chasmn, wide as the open mouth of the earth.

When her eyes returned, I felt sensations I could not explain. For just that moment, it seemed that I stood alone under the canopy. For a solitary moment, even now as I tell it, as I see it in my mind's eye, I feel, I see only one; me.

And now, again, the music was in my ears and the applause and the intimate laughter of family and friends as Laban concluded his blessing and prayer to God, saying,

"...in Thy name we ask of Thee..so be it."

" Heh, heh, heh." Laban laughed quietly to himself and smiled, as he walked back into the gaze of his own wife at their seats of honor.

Rachael was herself again. Maybe I was myself again, but the strangness disappeared into the night, overtaken by a stream of guests. So many had come to share in the love that enveloped us. This night was planned thick with celebration with me and Rachael, at the center of it all. We greeted our friends. We feasted on the roasted meats and sweet breads. We drank the wine of newly crushed grapes. Rachael stayed mostly among the large knot of women, lead by her mother and sisters. How they laughed and hugged and cried. They wailed some, too, for there was also a feeling of loosing, but sweeteneed with joy. The music praised Him and every cup we raised was meant to honor Him. We dutifully entertained under Laban's tents, our longings barely bridled, until at last we were alone.

She wanted it to be dark. My eyes wanted to see. The rose colored lips and apple cheeks. Long soft curls about her delicate round shoulders. But with slender arms and thin fingers she reached for the single lamp in my tent and put it out. Sitting close on our marriage bed she slowly let fall the marriage veil and in the darkness we became one.

But not one. It was the rift again, deep as a chasm; wide as the open mouth of the earth. We seemed to be in different places at the same time. I could not quite hear the same voice that had called to me in such passion. Her touch was muted; the feel of her just slightly cool. We wrestled with confusion.

"Rachael, is something wrong?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll be better tomorrow."

And I believed her. I could wait until tomorrow.

JACOB and Rachael

I worshipped her with my body. And somehow I knew that it would be my body, our bodies that would lead to trouble. I mean, there was a certain heat between Rachael and I that I had never known. When we came near our bodies and our souls locked together and ...and, well, you know, our souls touched. Her eyes were deep pools of palpable desire and future happiness. Her touch drowned out the din of the unimportant world. Rachael and I were nearly inseperable.

But somehow at the wedding there appeared a rift. A small rift, but a rift.

Laban had prepared the tents in lavish fashion for his means. It seemed to me that Rachael and her mothers and sisters had planned the whole thing in advance of my ever coming. Relatives and neighboring families poured across the sands with food and gifts and banquets and music. The women put on their colorful gowns of linen and lace, silks and satins flowing in time to their delicate strides. Musicians plucked their drawn strings to our delight while singers lifted melodies of praise and worship to God. Our union would be blessed by the holy men and we would live in dedication to Him. I wanted to celebrate with my new bride.

But first things, first. We had to celebrate with all of those who had come from such distances and were determined to make a day of it long into the night. I only barely remember the many words that were spoken from the Holy Books or the many good blessings that were offered. I only remember seeing her, Rachael.

Her veil was exquisite. It was the color of the clouds dusted lightly with cinnamon and brushed in butter. It stretched as an angelic crown around her head above the rich auburn curls flowing to her shoulders. Close folds of a sheer cloth covered her face creating at once mystery and exciting passion. I could see only the darkness of her eyes as she fixed them intently upon me.

"Clack, clack, clack, clack." It was the sound of the guests knocking their wine cups. It mean that Rachael and I should face each other as we were once again blessed and toasted. I think it was to be Laban first of all.

"Well..." he began, "I'm not really good at this, but, well... I guess that Jacob and Rachael have listened to God..."

Yes, we had. I turned to Rachael standing next to me and raised my cup. As she raised hers in response we stepped together and I took her arm around mine, our inner elbows touching so that she drank of hers and I of mine in a symbolic embrace. Yet at that moment a strangeness entered. Her gaze turned away. We drank together under Laban's blessing, yet it was not me that she was looking at, but someone or something else. She seemed to feel uncomfortable in the embrace.

"Is this right?" she asked of no one in particular.

It was a rift. A small one, but a rift.

JACOB and Rachael

Well, why did I marry Leah?

I remember that after I talked with Laban, I was anxious to see Rachael. It was our plan. I can feel even now her hot breath and mine as I rushed to tell her that Laban had agreed. Of course, we knew he would. Her sisters knew that he would. Even before I talked to Laban Rachael's mother couldn't stop hugging me a little too tight and a little too close. She was also fond of taking my face in her hands to talk to me, which habit I quickly discouraged. Laban's wife was a large woman, nearly six foot, I'd say and heavy. She was nothing athletic but her mind was especially keen as was her heart keen of love for her family. I guess if we were all animalls, she might have been a grand red hen or a big brown mama bear. Huggy but toothy, too. When she smiled though, she mostly hid her teeth.

I wanted to surprise Rachael with a gold ring I'd gotten from merchants I'd visited earlier. I was sorry it was so small. I did not have much money. I left home with nothing. But really I left with everything because, I stole all the good there was to have. Truthfully, I just was selfish ahd cruel towards my brother Eseau and I managed to steal his dreams. How? By making sure I achieved them first. I had all his strength and mine. It left him very little else. It left him angry. I left home rich but, broke.

I asked Rachael to stroll with me to a place that I knew was special to her. A place called they called Meado. We held hands as we pushed up the steep hills that led us to an open spot between two tall forests of trees. From the height we could see the many tents and the people busily moving across the land. At our distance it was quiet and we were alone. In my hand was the ring I had hidden from her until then and now I showed it to her.
"Rachael, this is for you." I was on my left knee. When she took it, I fell to both knees and worshipped her with my body.

The Wedding

It was a long night.

I remember that the moon was full. I still do always notice the stars and the sky. Those stars lit brilliantly a perfectly dark night sky, save for some odd light that kept shining in my eyes. I purposely held her too near the water and I remember it splashing us wet as we kissed such tender and passionate kisses. They were at once deep, forever kisses that burst open upon us like green spring buds. Unexpectedly, suddenly, me and Rachael, wrapped in a kind of unshakable feeling. Unshakable because we desired it. I remember no words, just her eyes deep and steady. Her light smile was to me so tender, so sincere, I felt surely, the earth had lost its gravity. Her womanly touch laid a hand upon my heart each time her skin brushed mine. She made me to stand up from the dust in search of life.

"Uncle Laban," I said quietly as we sat on the soft pillows in the great room under his tents. Uncle Laban was not a rich man but his means were comfortable. He was a steady worker and kept order to his mean flocks, a lot due to his wife, perhaps, but he was not meant for much growth or wealth. We drank coffee and relaxed.

"Uncle Laban, I need to ask you about a really important something ." I couldn't hide a grin because we both knew what it was.
"Your permission to marry Rachael." I looked at him hard in his soft, old eyes.
"Well..." he started, just as he started most of his sentences. "I need to tell you, Rachael is sure a handful."
Laban had made me drop his proper title.
"I understand, Laban," I said . I didn't really understand but it seemed the right thing to say.
"Well, you already know, Jaccob." He paused. "I'd be glad to have you as a son-in-law... if that's what Rachael wants, heh, heh, heh."
Laban had a habit of adding a kind of nervous laugh to the end of his sentences. It was an endearing thing that had come to characterize him. But he was telling me what I knew. That Laban liked me and I liked him, and that I would be the one to marry his oldest daughter.
"Heh, heh, heh."
"I'll do my best and I'll take care of her because I love her, Laban, I do."
And I did love her. I did.
I told you about the kiss and how it made me feel; how she excited my body and how I wanted her. But my love for Rachael was not that. My love for Rachael was His favour. In a new life far from my childhood home He showed me Rachael in a vision of my heart. She was His choice, His appointment to me. Now, I did happen to get the vision after the kissing bit, and well, maybe after a lot more than that, but no matter. The years prove that He was right. It was right to marry Rachael. So why did I marry her sister, Leah?