Tamar

My future stretches before me…desolate and broken.  I was once a prized daughter of King David.  I stand now in a darkened window of my brother Absalom’s home, looking down at the busy streets.  They are filled with men selling their wares, women buying grain, children playing in puddles of water.  I look down on them, and my gut clenches in envy.  They go about their lives while I am imprisoned within these rooms– confined by the shame of what was done to me.  Amnon, another one of my brothers, said he was ill and asked for me to come care for him.  Little did I realize the trap I was stepping into.  Once he had me in his rooms, he raped me.  My brother.  My purity was ripped from me, despite my cries.  I begged him to simply ask our father to have us married, for even that would be better than being used by him.  But he took what he wanted with no thought for my future.  And when he was finished, he looked at me with loathing in his eyes.  “Get out,” he spat.  I refused, because turning me out to the streets would be even worse than what he had already done to me.  For a moment, guilt flashed across his face, but his eyes hardened as he called his servant.  “Get this woman out of here and bolt the door after her!”  Outside, I collapsed to the ground.  I was still wearing the robe worn only by the virgin daughters of the king.  I grabbed the collar and ripped it, shredding the intricate embroidery and costly fabric.  All I had was taken from me in that moment.  Why did this happen to me?  Why didn’t God protect me?

Eve: Where were you, God?

Sarah: How can your plan work now?

Hagar: Who am I supposed to be?

Rebekah: When will my story begin?

Tamar: In the pain

Sarah: The promise

Rebekah: The hope

Hagar: The questions

Eve: The doubts

All: These are our stories.  My story.  Your story.  Our story.

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