By Bethany Jarmul
“This is the LORD’s sign to you . . . I will make the shadow cast by the sun go back the
ten steps it has gone down on the stairway of Ahaz.” Isaiah 37:32 NIV
King Hezekiah, toes dipping into the afterlife, turns his pain-prickled body
toward the palace wall, crying out, “Remember, LORD” as if the Almighty
ever forgets. I, barren-wombed, turn my empty body toward the sky,
whispering, “God, have you abandoned me?” as if the Omnipresent
ever leaves. Hezekiah is granted 15 more years to breathe. I’m blessed
with a baby, then a second. All overshadowed by the light dancing
with darkness, as they waltz in slow motion on the stone staircase.
Motherhood is an intricate dance, and I have too many feet,
not enough hands. Healed, Hezekiah leads the Babylonians
on a grand tour of his kingdom—gold, spices, olive oil, swords, horses—
dooming his ancestors to hunger & chains. Oh, that I would not err
so grievously that my grandchildren would curse the day of my miracle.
About the Author:
Bethany Jarmul is an Appalachian writer, poet, writing coach, and workshop instructor. She’s the author of a poetry collection, Lightning Is a Mother and a memoir, Take Me Home. Her work has been published in more than 100 literary magazines including Rattle, Brevity, and Chestnut Review. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature and Best Small Fictions, and nominated for the Pushcart Prize and The Best of the Net. Connect with her atbethanyjarmul.com or on social media: @BethanyJarmul.