Young in the Lord

“When will you be back, son?” Eunice asked as she straightened the collar of Timothy’s tunic. Timothy towered over her by half an inch but that didn’t stop her from fussing over her only son, nevermind that he was almost twenty-one.

“We’ve been over this a million times, Mom,” Timothy said, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I’ll stay in Ephesus for as long as the Lord wants me to. You don’t have to worry about me. Apostle Paul is a very perceptive man and he treats me like a son.”

“Well, I can’t help but feel nervous. You’ll spend weeks at sea and I know you suffer sea-sickness. Just like your father.” Her voice turned sober.

Understanding seeped into Timothy’s eyes. He tipped up her downcast chin. “Mom, don’t despair. I know God will hear your heartfelt intercession for his soul. At least it is a good thing he doesn’t stop you from pursuing your faith.”

Eunice sighed as she turned to check the oven. As she opened the oven door, the delicious smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, into Timothy’s nostrils.
“That’s because he is too busy travelling the world, overseeing his winery business. He thinks Jesus is just another one of the countless gods they worship in Greece. How ridiculous!”

“I seriously still cannot understand how you got married to him,” Timothy muttered as he picked a hot cookie from the tray and began munching on it.

Eunice placed a hand on her hip and looked at Timothy, her gaze serious.
“My father is an hardworking man and I admire him. Yahweh is helping me love him even more everyday. Although, I made a rash decision marrying him, I know Yahweh’s grace has us covered. I was naive then, madly in love with the handsome brute who defended me when some sons of belial tried to molest me. I ignored Yahweh’s injunction not to be unequally yoked with gentiles. Now I know better. Either way, I wouldn’t have had you, my sweet child, if I didn’t marry your father.”

Timothy shrugged. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, Mom. You know how grateful I am to God that you are my mother. I’m glad that despite the rumours others spread about you, you were still able to train me up in the Lord’s way, taking me to temple every week and teaching me the Torah till I could recite it even in my sleep.”

Eunice gave him a wry grin. “Well, you didn’t seem to enthusiastic about it while you were a child!”

Timothy scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly grinning.
“Forgive me, Mother, but you must understand how hard it is to be brought up in a proper manner when the enticing lure of this reckless age is all around.”

“Talking about reckless living, have you heard from Tirzah recently?” Eunice asked after a pause, her voice laced with concern.

Timothy’s face blanched and he almost choked on the last crumbs of cookies that he was eating. He took a gulp of water.

“Tirzah? She’s alive. Meaning there’s still hope for her,” Timothy’s eyes glistened as bittersweet memories of his childhood friend filled his mind.

“Any updates about her decision to delve into pursuing the gentile gods?” Eunice’s face looked pained as she spoke.

“None. The last I saw of her was weeks ago and you needed to see how she openly derided me as I preached in the Main Square. I fear she has gone too deep into her idolatry and is now possessed by devils.”

“It’s such a pity. Her downward spiral began when her parents divorced. It’s obvious she’s embittered against Yahweh.” Eunice paused and took Timothy’s hands. “Take your own advice, son. Keep praying for Tirzah and guard your own heart. Even the very elect can be deceived.”

Timothy nodded grimly and waved his hand as though to disperse the cloud of gloom that had descended on the kitchen. He muttered something under his breadth, an injunction from Apostle Paul to beware of youthful lusts.

“I have to be on my way. My regards to Grandma Lois. Send her my love when she comes visiting again for the Feast of Booths. Tell her I miss her special Knish recipe. And tell her not to worry her knees too much. I don’t want her constantly whining about her arthritis when I get back.”

Eunice chuckled and clasped her hand behind her back. “Timothy, trust me, the only thing she’ll be whining about is how she doesn’t want you ending up an old bachelor like Apostle Paul.”

“Mom!” Timothy said, his face reddening.

“I’m just saying,” Eunice said with a sly smile. “Hurry along now. You don’t want the ship to depart before you get to the dock.”

Timothy placed a peck on her forehead and slung his backpack across his shoulders.
“I’ll write you a letter once I arrive safely at Ephesus.”

“Write often. I will miss you terribly.” Eunice straightened. “I hope you didn’t forget to take all of Paul’s scrolls and the turnic he lent you.”

“They’re safely tucked into my bundle. How could I forget the scrolls when I diligently poured over them each night? I can’t wait to meet Paul again so I can discuss the scriptures with him. Thanks, Mom. I love you. Shabbat Shalom.” Timothy took off, his mother escorting him to the gate.

“May Yahweh be with you, my son,” Eunice whispered as she watched his outline fade into the crowded street of Lystra.

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Shanu Tiwatope
Shanu Tiwatope
4 months ago

❤️❤️

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