Harvest of Gold by Tessa Afshar

land.
    Nehemiah prayed harder. God remained silent.
    Slowly, a new voice began to seep into his thoughts. Give up , it goaded. Give up! If God had wished to move, He would have done so by now. What was the point of hours of supplication? Forsake your prayers! Give up! Who are you to think you can make a difference?
    Nehemiah dug in his heels and increased his vigilance. He did not understand why God delayed. He could not explain why his prayers were ignored, when surely the Lord Himself must desire the welfare of Jerusalem. All Nehemiah could do was persevere. So he ignored the words of discouragement in his head and persisted, even when his strength ebbed.
    Hanani came to visit him late one evening. Nehemiah’s servant had just finished curling his beard and perfuming his hair.
    “Mercy, brother, but you smell better than the king’s gardens,” Hanani said. “With your hair as red as Esau’s, you could pass for a flower.”
    Nehemiah gave Hanani a quelling look. “It’s part of the requirements of my position. I cannot come before the king and his esteemed guests smelling like a camel.”
    In truth, the discrepancy between his circumstances and those experienced by the people in Judah had begun to grate on his conscience. Day after day he prepared himself for his duties as usual. He bathed and covered his body with silks and linen, knowing his countrymen were poor and naked. He inhabited some of the most luxurious edifices the world had ever seen, aware that his fellow Jews lived with inadequate shelter, exposed to the cruel elements. As his leather-shod feet touched marble walkways and silken carpets, he was mindful that his people only had dirt to rest their feet on.
    Hanani held up a hand. “I meant no disrespect. Any breakthroughs with the king?”
    “None. I try to remember that walking in the will of God might mean waiting as much as it might mean moving forward.”
    Hanani sighed and found a large cushion to sit on. “I’ve always admired your faith, brother. For myself, I find this delay senseless and frustrating.”
    Nehemiah smoothed his wide sleeves until no ripple remained in the rich fabric. “One thing has changed.”
    “I could use some good news.”
    Nehemiah’s smile was tight. “I’m not certain you will consider this good news. The months of prayer, though seeming to reap no reward, have produced an unexpected shift in my own heart.
    “When I’d first begun to pray, I had merely intended to ask Artaxerxes to reverse his decision. I believed my role was that of intercessor on behalf of the people of Jerusalem. I thought, like Esther, the Lord had planted me close to the king for this hour. I was supposed to intervene for Jerusalem and plead their cause to the king.”
    Hanani shifted on his cushion to find a more comfortable spot. “That’s what we have been praying for.”
    “My heart has changed, Hanani. The longer I’ve carried on with my supplications, the more I’ve become convinced that Judah needs a strong leader. If the enemies of Jerusalem have already succeeded in interrupting its restoration once, what would prevent them from doing so again? Life at court has taught me that only a faithful commander could see such a demanding task through to its completion. Jerusalem needs more than a building project; it requires a leader who knows how to overcome powerful enemies and draw our people back to the Lord.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I want to be that leader.”
    “Lord have mercy, Nehemiah!” his brother said, his voice a squeak. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know the trouble you are asking for? This is no job for a pampered courtier, if you’ll pardon my frankness. The foes of our nation are hungry wolves who will swallow you whole. Besides, what will the king say? Would he release you from a job you perform well in order to allow you to traipse into a far-flung corner of his empire?”
    “Do you think I haven’t asked myself these questions a hundred times