Sunday Psalms: Fictional Narratives Inspired by the Psalms, Proverbs, & Other Biblical Works
As far as the eye could see, colorful tents brimmed with oils and fabrics, produce and livestock. Traders committed to profit, customers intent on bargains – the marketplace breathed the practice of buying and selling.
Under a blue and green tent, a grain merchant fiddled with dishonest scales that supported his carousing habits. A red tent hosted a decorated woman who read fortunes and predicted the future. All for a reasonable fee.
On one corner, a seedy group of men gathered, loitering over a brimming jug of ale. They jeered at the women passing by and slapped each other on the back.
A pack of mangy dogs roamed in and out of the tents, hungrily searching for scraps, while barefoot children darted through the throng and splashed in stale puddles. “Get out!” The traders yelled at both dogs and children.
This was my first day in the city, and I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. I was a simple kid from a simple village. I’d never seen such activity, such opportunity. I hardly knew where to rest my eyes.
“Watch where you’re going!” barked a man as I nearly collided with his cart of fresh eggs. I jumped out of the way, only to find myself bumping into a group of young ladies hoping to entice a young man like myself. Laughing, yelling, shouting. Everywhere I looked, a plethora of noise surrounded me.
Over the noise of the crowd, I heard a single voice shout into the air. A woman’s voice, confident and clear.
“Listen me!” she called out. “Turn from your simple ways. Put aside the delight of your eyes. Be fools no longer!”
I stopped to scan the various faces and finally landed on the figure of an old woman. Bent over a cane, she stood in the middle of the town square and cried out to any who would listen.
From somewhere within the crowd, a cocky young man swaggered over.
“Stupid old hag!” he said and released a stream of taunts. I watched as he pushed her down into the mud, laughing at her as she fell. Another man walked by and spit at her before giving her a swift kick in the stomach.
Seeing this abuse, I alone moved to help her. I offered her my hand, and she said, “Thank you. So many, yet only one pays me any attention.”
Now we were standing face to face, and I instinctively took a step back. Behind her silver hair and wrinkled skin, a pair of vibrant eyes intently searched mine, and I was exposed.
She calmly removed the scarf from her head and used it to wipe the mud from her face. I wondered at the desperate message she had delivered to the crowd and asked her, “Who are you? Why were you shouting?”
She smiled and signaled for me to follow her. “Come with me,” she replied. “And you can just call me Wisdom.””
Wisdom cries aloud in the street, in the markets she raises her voice. Proverbs 1:20 (NASB)
-Read Previous Sunday Psalms: Season One Episodes
Written by Heidi Sadler, Inspired by Proverbs 1:20. Copyright © 2015, 2016 by Heidi Sadler, All Rights Reserved. “Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE®, Copyright © 1960,1962,1963,1968,1971,1972,1973,1975,1977,1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.”
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