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A war cry rippled through the sky.
The clouds were rumbling, dark grey, and the air was cool, slicing their skin. The sound of swords clashing, and metal clashing echoed. The battlefield was of over a hundred Amorites against hundreds of Israelites.
Adrenaline rushed through their veins and Israel's hearts pumped heat into their souls.
The Israelites and Amorites.
They would not die, but live and proclaim what the Lord had done.
The Amorites were about to attack one of their villages in secret, to steal their possessions and kidnap their women and children.
“Contend, O Lord, with those who contend with me,” Johnathan was among the fighting men, from the tribe of Gad, son of Hezekiah. “Fight against those who fight against me.”
He held his shield and buckler; “Arise and come to my aid.”
His spear was brandished and ready to penetrate those who pursued him.
Johnathan thought to himself in his soul, the Lord is my salvation.
He could not trust in himself or his comrades, he would fail if he were to lean on himself. The Lord was the one who gave them victory after victory.
Jonathan was weak, even though he was strong he knew he needed God.
Just like the former king David, whom he so looked up to. He heard about him from the stories told.
Johnathan was not of royal descent—his father is a humble Shepard, old in age, with a limp in his step.
The thirty-two year old was a soldier, Johnathan wanted to fight for his people. He so wanted to please God, that was his desire. To be a man worthy in the eyes of God, just like how David slain Goliath with a stone, he too wanted that closeness with God.
Johnathan hadn't heard God's voice yet but he knew he was there.
God made himself known in more ways than one in his life, many times he could've died but God has saved him.
May those who seek my life be disgraced, and put to shame.
He charged at a man, tall in stature, Johnathan was fast, and with quick precision that came with practice he impaled him with his spear.
May those who plot against my ruin be turned back in dismay.
They were like chaff before the wind.
He watched as they died like flies before his dark brown eyes.
His chest heaved up and down, sweat dropped down his neck, and forehead but a smile tugged on his lips.
Johnathan was just getting started, his muscles had yet to ache, he was sure he'd feel it tonight.
He wiped the blood from his lip, and felt a tingle from the cut on his left eyebrow.
This was the work of God, his angels must be driving their enemies, the Amorites away.
Though nothing could be seen in person he knew that God would send his angels to protect them.
He was their God, and they were his people.
Johnathan watched as some of the Amorites slipped and fell, their bodies grew tired, weaker.
They intended to ambush the Israelites but God has made it known to them through their trusted prophet. They hid a net from the Israelites without cause. Turns out the net they hid entangled them.
They fell into the pit of their own despair because they were wicked.
They schemed and plotted against the Israelites without real cause. They merely loved distruction, and chaos—they'd always been like that, creating disorder wherever they went. Going after innocent people disrupting their quiet lives.
Even in their own towns they abused, and mistreated people.
“Aha!” Johnathan felt a stab from his side—he was attacked from behind. “Aha!”
A sword scabbed the side of his hip.
He winced at the burn, there was something mixed in that sword.
The man who attacked him had a deranged look in his eye.
The Amorite was panting like a dog, slobbering, his eyes glared with insanity and hunger.
Vindicate me in your righteousness! O Lord my God, Johnathan pleaded in his heart. “I won't let you gloat over me!”
“Don’t think you got what you wanted!” Johnathan snarled, eyes ablaze with zeal. He felt warm, “We will defeat you!”
“Keep telling yourself that you pesky Israelite,” he laughed like a mad man, "Why'd you get our way! I wanted to get a taste of your women!”
Johnathan glared at the man in disgust, he looked as vile as his heart was. His hair was crusty looking, as if he hadn't washed it in long. He had a scar along his cheek, cuts and bruises littered on his arms, and busted face from the ongoing fight.
The Amorite had a desperate look in his dull eyes, he was shorter than Johnathan but fast, and slick.
A serpent.
“You don't look so good,” the serpent continued, “The poison must be taking effect haha! You’re done for!”
Johnathan blinked.
He didn't feel any different, except his heart felt funny, or was that fear?
He shook his head, no time for panic.
Johnathan was already on the battlefield dying was inevitable.
He was not alone, he just had to remember that.
“Those will be your last words!”
Johnathan yelled, he gritted his teeth, and mutated his strength.
He felt the pain spread in his side to the rest of him and fog entered his mind.
Johnathan was still very conscious but the poison had taken a toll on him, and he didn't think the bleeding had stopped. “Lord, my life is yours!”
“Be still and know,” came the mighty mighty voice, as soft as a whisper but as thunderous as lighting in Johnathan's mind, “that I am God.”
It was God.
The Lord was with him—he had heard him loud and clear finally after years of waiting to distinguish it.
Johnathan felt his mind clear, strength return to his body with full force.
He was excited.
He laughed in anticipation and gladness of heart. “My God, what a wonder you are!”
A smile tugged on Jonathan's lips.
The Amorite looked confused.
He had no idea what he was in for.