A/N I am reading in Judges (NIV)and recently read the story of Jephthah the man who had to kill his daughter because of a vow he made to the Lord. For some odd reason it has laid on my thoughts and I decided to write this short fic. The bible I have doesn't state her name so I made one up. I hope you enjoy this.
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The fire burned brightly in the hearth inside their small home. The family sat around their small table rejoicing as they passed the bread, meat, grapes, and carrots to each other.
"Oh, what I fine meal this is!" Jalon exclaimed as she watched her father slice a large piece of meat from the wild turkey and put it in front of her.
"One can only want the finest for his only daughter," Jephthah smiled, pouring a drink for his wife from a pitcher. Jalon took a bite of the turkey meat and chewed it for awhile, making the taste last as long as it would. For it was only on special occasions that the family were able to enjoy a wild turkey. This occasion was Jalon's 15th birthday.
"Did the king of Ammon heed your message, Jephthah?" his wife spoke up after a moment when all had become silent and only the sounds of the family eating could be heard.
"No news has come," Jephthah sighed, "But I am patient, the king will reply whether his words be bad or good. And I will wait. But let us speak on other matters. Such a time as this should have other subjects. Like our dear Jalon."
"Thank you, father," Jalon said sincerely. "This is a special day for me. I am now fit to be chosen by any man to be his wife."
"And on that day, my dear Jalon," Jephthah said gleefully, "I will be thrice as happy as I am at this moment!" Jalon only smiled, letting her thoughts wander off to that day, what it would be like and how she would feel. Such a time was hard to wait for but she knew it would be soon. It would be soon.
The next morning Jalon awakened to nothing but silence. The was already high in the sky and the house was empty, neither or father or her mother was inside. Jalon stood from her sleeping mat and walked over to the wooden table in the center of the room, pouring a small amount of water into her cup. She drank it and then walked outside, first looking around the animal's pens and then heading towards the garden. She came upon her mom in the garden hoeing the earth and inquired as to where her father was.
"He had to leave," her mother answered with sadness, continuing to hoe the dirt. "A messenger came early this morning with news from the king. Jalon, your father has gone to fight."
"Why did you not wake me?" Jalon questioned, "I would have liked to have said farewell."
"Your father thought it best not to but he sends you his love."
"And he will always have mine," Jalon sighed, looking far off into the distance. She stood there for a moment and just listened to her mother in the garden, still dreaming of that day.
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Two months later as Jalon was in the kitchen baking bread, the neigh of a horse sounded from outside the house.
"Father!" Jalon exclaimed with excitement, snatching a tambourine from the table and dancing outside with it to greet her father. But instead of a warm greeting, or even a smile, she received a sad, lonely look from her father as he came forward. If she wasn't mistaken, it looked as though tears were in his eyes.
"What is it father?" Jalon asked. "Did the battle go badly?"
"Oh! My Jalon!" her father exclaimed with sadness, dropping to his knees in agony. Jalon's mother came from around the corner upon hearing her husband's cry and stood watching from the house the scene that played before her. "You have made me miserable and wretched, because I have made a vow to the Lord that I cannot break."
"What is this vow, Father?" Jalon asked, confused.
"To offer whatever meets me when I return in triumph as a sacrifice to the Lord," Jephthah sighed. Jalon tried to contain herself, blinking away the tears so her father would not see her cry. When she was ready to speak, she said calmly,
"My father, you have given your word to the Lord. Do to me just as you promised, now that the Lord has avenged you and your enemies, the Ammonites."
"No," her mother cried, stepping back in shock. Jalon looked down at the dirt for a moment and then back at her father.
"Grant me one request, dear father," Jalon said, "Give me two months to roam the hills and weep for I shall never marry."
"You may go," her father said and embraced her one last time.
And so Jalon left the next day to weep in the hills and her friends went with her. For two months sorrow was all she knew and when the last day came she traveled back home to her father.
"If I could have this any other way," her father said as he laid her upon the offering stone, "I would."
"I know," Jalon said, trying not to fear. Her father drew his dagger…
And so passed Jalon, daughter of Jephthah.