The Untold Story of Elijah
By Kurt W. Schuller (USA)
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This manuscript (currently titled "the tishbite" but I am considering "A Man of God") is unfinished This Is a fictional account of the life of Elijah. It is raw and powerful reflecting the actual state of life at the time.It has a strong sexual theme which is necessary because of the story it tells. It is both inspirational as well as entertaining. It was written to entertain the reader first.` Your feedback is welcome I hope you enjoy.
Part one: A Man Of God
Obadiah approached the small home carefully. He had his cloak open to show that he was carrying no weapons. He had no desire to frighten an old widow living alone in a near wilderness. He stood about 20 feet from the door and called out to her.
“My name is Obadiah and I mean you no harm. I have come only to speak to the mother of Elijah.”
Slowly, the door creaked open. Obadiah could see no one and nothing inside.
“I’m to come in then?”
There was no answer.
He shrugged his shoulders, looked around and walked hesitantly toward the door. He paused in front of the entryway. “ I am coming in now.”
He entered cautiously and paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to get used to the dark.
From his left he heard her.
“How is he? My son.”
Obadiah turned toward the voice and saw a diminutive figure slumped in a wooden chair.
“I haven’t seen him since he left home. He rarely wrote, always blaming his business for why he could never come to visit. It’s alright though, he was a good son while he was living with us.” The woman paused for a moment. “Is he dead?”
Obadiah shook his head vigorously. “No no no, not dead. Very much alive from what I can tell. Your son is now a prophet.”
“ What did you say? A puppet?”
“No, no. A Prophet.”
“A prophet you say. My son, Elijah? Well, God’s ways don’t get much more mysterious than that.”
“Aren’t you proud of him?” Obadiah asked quietly.
The old woman stood up and walked over to him. She obviously had lived a very hard life.
“I have always been proud of him. He did his chores, never argued with me; he brought us no shame or dishonor. In his way, he loved me-“ A small tear formed in her wrinkled eye.”-And in my own way, I loved him. It is a hard life here in the hills, there’s not much time for love.”
She made her way back to her chair and sat down slowly.
“ So I can’t blame him for never coming back.”
“You must have done something right.” Obadiah said softly. “Or God would not have chosen him.”
The woman smiled slightly and began to rock slowly in the chair.
“I suppose you must be right.”
Obadiah could think of nothing else to say. After a brief moment of awkward silence he turned to leave.
“Please tell him that I love him.” She spoke softly.
A tear came to his eye and he turned to look at her. “ I am sure he knows that.”
The woman had tears streaming down her face, but her voice was quiet yet unwavering.
“No, he does not.”
Obadiah began to realize where Elijah had gotten his strength.
When he returned to the city he wrote a report to send back to Rabah. In it he reported that he had found the prophets parents, and that both had died years ago.