From when we were kids and consumed with playing, he has always been the fellow who steps in and causes things to happen. It was often a source of quarrels between us—he did not know how to let well enough alone. Yet, he was a rock in steadfastness.
After the transition from boyhood to adulthood, he joined His Majesty, the king's service. Me? I crossed the River Tigris and returned to the city of our fathers to do my own thing. We stayed in touch. We’re, after all, the only family we have left.
When King Cyrus the Great decreed that those who were so inclined could go back to Jerusalem, I was among those who welcomed the first batch of immigrants—about 1000 persons. On some level, I guess I was hoping he’d be among them. He wasn’t.
When the Persian, King Artaxerxes I, rose to power, Nehemiah was one of those detailed to serve in the palace. He did an outstanding job, if I say so myself. The king seemed to agree too. Nehemiah became royal butler, a high office.
After some years, a number of us undertook the 150-mile journey from Yehud to Susa. We related to Nehemiah the state of affairs in the province of Judah. The torn-down walls of Jerusalem and gates destroyed by fire were still that way.
Months after our return we got word from Nehemiah—he was coming down. He later told me he’d spent the first four of those months praying and imploring God to intervene.
Upon arrival, he went to work. His all-consuming passion was to see Yerushalayim, gated and without breaches in its walls. It was awe-inspiring—his dedication. His sacrifice was equally immense. As governor of Yehud Medinata, he was entitled to an allowance—to be provided by the people. Others before him imposed taxes to achieve this. Instead he catered for himself, and fed quite a number of us from his own purse. Everything he did was for God, the people and the land—a place he was not even going to live in at the end.
He drove us hard. We worked harder. Our city, our families and our pride were at stake. At a point, we had to arm ourselves for war whilst building. In all these his encouragement was unwavering, his faith unshakeable. It was the required panacea.
In just 52 days the whole work of repairing and rebuilding the walls and gates were done. Nehemiah had restored Jerusalem, something no one else had been able to do.
I stood watching the convoy that was leaving Susa. My brother was going back to his primary assignment after twelve years as Governor of Judah. Tears stung my eyes but I fought them with a smile.
I looked over the city that I had just been made governor of. Hananiah—a very faithful man who revered God more than most—was Commander of the Fort. Jerusalem was not only standing, it was evidence of Yahweh's faithfulness and commitment to His people. A source of inspiration to every Jew across the world, there could be no greater testament to God's providence and protection anywhere.
Hopefully, more people would be encouraged by these to come back home. Here to welcome them would be I, Hanani, son of Hecaliah.
© 2017
John Chidi
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