The Prophet: Amos by Francine Rivers Read Free Book Online Page B

Philistia’s grandeur.
    “So be it, Lord!” Amos rejoiced. “So be it.”
    “Amos!”
    He blinked, swayed slightly on the ladder, and grasped hold of a sycamore branch to keep from falling. “What?”
    “What? What, you say? What’s the matter with you, my friend?” Jashobeam, the owner of the grove, stood staring up at him, arms akimbo.
    “Nothing.”
    “Nothing? You’ve been shouting.”
    Other workers stared at him.
    “I was having a vision.”
    “Oh, a vision.” Jashobeam threw back his head and laughed loudly. He waved his hands as he called out to the others. “Amos was having a vision!”
    Some laughed. Some leaned out from beneath branches to grin at him.
    Jashobeam put his hands on his hips and looked up at him. “Perhaps you need to come down and rest in the shade awhile. Too much heat, I would say. Go have a long cool drink of water with a little wine.”
    Face burning, Amos ducked his head. “I’m fine.” Clenching his teeth, he grasped another sycamore fig and made the small slice.
    “A vision.” Jashobeam shook his head. “If you have another, try not to shout about it. You distract my workers.” Jashobeam walked away.

    Amos was on his way home to Tekoa when the Lord spoke to him again.
    The people of Tyre have sinned again and again, and I will not let them go unpunished!
    Dropping to his knees, Amos threw himself onto his face.
    Israelites stood in the court of the Phoenician king. The heads of state signed documents, swearing a treaty of brotherhood and friendship between Phoenicia and Israel. But then Phoenicians raided, and took whole villages captive to Edom, selling them as slaves.
    Amos slammed his fists on the ground. “They tricked us. They broke their word!”
    God’s wrath descended in a spear of flame that set the great city of Tyre on fire. The mighty fortresses crumbled in the inferno.
    There was no respite for Amos this time as a fourth vision came. Edomites with raised swords chased down their Israelite brothers. Every face was like Esau’s, filled with bitterness and hatred against his brother Jacob, with generation after generation of them raised on the story of how the younger brother had bought the elder’s birthright with a bowl of lentil soup and stripped Esau of his blessing. They sought every opportunity to inflict pain and suffering on Jacob’s descendants. They savored revenge like a sweet dessert, not knowing it would turn their souls sour with poison.
    Wailing to heaven, Amos gripped his head. “Stop, Lord. I don’t want to see any more.”
    The Edomites caught up with and cut down the fleeing Israelite men. With cries of jubilance and triumph, they stabbed and slashed them, giving free rein to years of pent-up jealousy and rage.
    So I will send down fire on Teman, and the fortresses of Bozrah will be destroyed.
    Amos watched punishment come upon Esau’s sons. The horror of it made him collapse. He spread his arms, clutching the grass, his cheek pressed against soft earth.

    He wandered for days, unsure what to do. “Why do You show me these things, Lord? What am I to do with this knowledge? Tell me!”
    The Lord did not answer.
    Distraught, burdened by the images of destruction, Amos headed again for Tekoa. He climbed the mountain road from Jericho and took shelter for the night in a small cave. He could look out over the Sea of Salt. To the north were the mountains of Ammon. To the south was Moab.
    The people of Ammon have sinned again and again, and I will not let them go unpunished!
    Terror gripped Amos as he dwelt within the vision. All his senses awakened. He smelled the smoke of Gilead, the burning flesh. He tasted ash in his mouth. Ammonite warriors attacked Gilead. Lungs straining, he ran with the fleeing Israelites. Gilead burned, but even this destruction did not satisfy the Ammonites, who sought to wipe out the race by knocking pregnant women to the ground. As the women screamed for mercy, the warriors ripped their clothing and cut their