Narrator (6:21)
He sighed with a smile. Abiathar was a simple and straightforward man, and this was one of the many easy pleasures of his life. While others slept, he was swept away in splendor, alone with God. He found himself craving this time alone with the Lord expressing gratitude for everything he had been given. There was much to be thankful for. Abiathar had many things land, servants, wealth, and a thriving business. But none of these things compared to the love he had for his sons. He loved his two sons more than anything in the entire world. He also had loved their mother for as long as God had entrusted her to his care. She had passed away many years ago, but Abiathar still saw her reflected in her sons. Over the years, Abiathar steadily grew his father's farm, yielding resources and riches that gained him great renown in their village and the surrounding regions. The land had been in his family as far back as anyone could remember, and though some would say it was all due to Abiathar's business sense, he believed it was simply the favor of his God. Because his ego wasn't intertwined with the success or failure of the family business, and because he trusted God to provide for all their needs, he felt confident in expanding the workers and tenants as his income flourished. The sun was rising in earnest now and Abiathar had to squint to enjoy the splendid scene before him. Nestled between this hill and the others surrounding it, Abiathar's farm sprawled throughout the valley as far as the eye could see. The stillness of the morning was replaced by the chirping of birds and the emergence of his workers. To the right, tidy rows of various crops lined the land when viewed from above, he marveled at how the straight lines and circular patterns filled the valley with a calming order to the left of the homestead. There was no such designs in the soil, but he could make out tiny figures of his livestock dotting the fields. Abiathar possessed great wisdom, wisdom enough to know that his significant influence and wealth, if left unchecked, could make him arrogant and self reliant. Abiathar was abounding with love for all the people in his life, and he held his role as their provider in great esteem. Abiathar did his best to extend grace and patience in all matters brought under his purview. He sought to be as loving as the God he loved. It was in the morning that he set his perspective. He knew that though he provided for many, he was merely a conduit for all God had entrusted to him. Looking down into the valley and over all he had, he mused that this was God's vantage point too. God was even higher and over far more than Abiathar could even fathom. He allowed these thoughts and meditating on God's glory to lead him into his morning prayer. He considered everything God had given him dominion over, allowing it to fill him with gratitude. Gratitude was the antidote to greed. While other men of his status reeled in paranoia and anxiety about keeping their wealth, Abiathar was able to maintain calm and peace. Abiathar prayed for his sons as he returned down the hill to the homestead. He could sense his sons becoming restless of late. They were both men now in the eyes of the law. But he could not help but still see them as children. His children. He supposed they would always be children to him. His oldest, Amnon, had recently become betrothed to a lovely young woman who would make an even lovelier bride and someday a mother to his grandchildren. Amnon quietly aspired to be all that his father was. In fact, pleasing his father consumed most of his personality. He was stoic, steadfast and perhaps a bit stubborn. He was dedicated to whatever task was before him, always aiming to please his father. As a child he was obedient and sensitive to criticism. These traits had given way to a very disciplined man. Abiathar rarely had to ask anything of his firstborn son. Amnon knew his duty and what was expected of him. He always lived up to those expectations. Side by side, Abiathar and his son Amnon managed the farm's affairs. Abiathar was so proud of the young man his eldest was becoming. Although Abiathar feared his eldest son's obedience and hard work actually came from a sense of self righteousness and superiority over his younger brother, Jeramiel. Ah, Jeramiel, the youngest son. He was boisterous and bold, almost impossible to predict. As the youngest child, he was the joy of his parents lives. Abiathar's late wife had a similar soul. She and Jeramiel were so free and easygoing they laughed easily. Equal parts the source and receiver of merriment in any given room. Unsurprisingly, Abiathar most often saw his wife in Jaramiel. This helped him find the patience he often needed for his wild ways. The boy was always looking for trouble and he had this uncanny ability to rope others into his shenanigans. A natural born leader, Jeramiel always had a handful of other boys in his wake, hanging on his every word. Abiathar knew that Jaramiel would soon be a man. He would need a firm hand to convince him to settle down and begin his responsibilities as a father and husband. But Abiathar was reluctant. The boy brought him so much joy, and he wanted him to stay a child as long as he could. Abiathar walked down the path to his home. As he daydreamed and prayed, he noticed the steward of his house, Eran, waiting for him.
