The Bible is the divinely inspired word of God. It should be obvious to any reader that my story is only an extrapolation of an existing scripture and is in no way intended to be on the same level or accuracy as the sacred authors. In other words, no imprimatur or nihil obstat.

LITTLE SISTER

"Rahab!"

Rahab was wiping down tables when she heard the voice of her little sister calling her name, but she stopped long enough to embrace the girl.

"What are you doing here? This is no place for a young girl like you, you know that--we've agreed."

"I begged Father to let me come here, just this once. I wanted to talk to you, Rahab, I'm so afraid."

Rahab sighed and took her sister by the hand and led her up onto the roof, where they could talk in relative privacy. Furthermore, Rahab didn't want her sister exposed to the type of men who visited her inn, and didn't want her sister looked at by those men. When they alone, Rahab sat her down by the flax that her family had harvested and was spread out to dry.

"Now, tell me what you're so afraid of," Rahab urged.

"I heard our brothers talking about it." The girl said, eyes wide. "They say everybody in the town is on edge, but they don't like to say it too publicly, because they're all afraid of sounding like cowards and making the king angry."

Rahab sighed. She didn't have to ask what her sister was referring to, but the girl's terror was too real. "Go on," Rahab said gently.

"They said the Israelites are remembering the defeat of Sihon, and gaining courage to come and attack us, because their God defended them before. Our brothers said the men are becoming demoralized."

Rahab knew that was true. She had heard such talk all too frequently during the recent days.

Her sister started to wail, "Oh, Rahab, what if there's a siege? What if the Israelites conquer our town? What if they kill us all? Oh Rahab, what are we going to do?" The girl seemed to be near panic.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Calm down right now," Rahab commanded her sister. "There's no use in worrying about what might happen. What we need to do is try to make the best of the situation. I don't want to die at the point of an Israelite sword any more than you do, but here," she took some money from a bag around her waist and handed it to the girl. "If the worst happens, and you are captured by the Israelites, maybe you can barter for your freedom, or your life. I'm sorry, but it's the best suggestion I have. And keep the money hidden. Don't let anybody else know you have it. Okay?"

The girl sniffed and took the money.

"Now," Rahab said. "I want you to go on home. This place is no place for you." She patted her sister on the shoulder. "If anything does happen, I'll come looking for you." It wasn't much, but it was the best she could offer.

CONVERSION

Rahab remembered the stories she had heard about Og. He was the king of Bashan, an Amorite, and he was a giant. Taller than any man she personally had ever met. After the defeat by the Israelites, his territory was given to one of the groups of Israelites. She knew by now that the Israelites were divided into smaller groups, even though they were all called Israelites.

The town was becoming more and more uneasy, and Rahab was frightened. She got no satisfaction anymore from making money. She had lost her belief in the gods she had worshiped from childhood. She hated her principal source of income, and she hated that Vashta and Ishta were as embroiled in it as she. They were just young girls, after all. She had always told herself that without her, they would have been plunged into poverty, but Rahab was starting to wonder if there wasn't another way, a better way to spend one's life than to be passed around from man to man.

She sat on her cushions staring out at the horizon outside her window. Everything she had built her life on seemed so empty and foolish, if not downright wicked. Sorrow welled up inside her and tears dripped down her face as she rested her chin on her arms. She felt like something inside her was breaking, and she knew she had to abandon her former life. She thought about the Isrealites' God, although she didn't know how to find Him. She wanted the protection of their God, but she knew that mere protection wouldn't be enough to satisfy her anymore. She wanted to be counted as one of His people.

She looked around her room in disgust. She never brought customers here. She always met them in their own chambers. This room was all for herself, the one place she could be herself and not put on a mask to please others. However, this was where she kept her clothes and jewels and cosmetic paints, the tools of her trade.

Rahab got up and stared around the room, thinking. Suddenly, she ran out of her room, down to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest empty basket she could find. She dragged the basket back to her room and started throwing her clothes and cosmetics into it. The jewelry she would save to sell if necessary. The basket was soon full to overflowing, even though she had pushed everything down to the bottom as far as she could. She saved aside a couple of plain robes and veils and a cloak.

She stood a moment, undecided. She could sell the contents of the basket, but the only person who would be able to use clothing like this was another prostitute. Somehow, she didn't want to encourage somebody else to live her lifestyle. She dragged the basket down to the kitchen, and one by one, fed the clothes into the cook-fire.

Rahab was startled by the appearance of a very sleepy Ishta.

"What are you doing, Rahab? Why are you burning your beautiful clothes?"

"I don't want them anymore."

"Then give them to me! I've always admired the way you dress."

"Ishta, go wake Vashta and bring her here. There's something I want to discuss with you two."

Rahab was burning the last piece of clothing when Vashta appeared. Rahab poured them both a glass of wine and bade them sit down.

"Girls, I've made a decision. This inn will no longer be offering private services to the customers anymore. From now on, it will be strictly lodging and food. You understand?"

Vashta frowned. "But we get our best money from private services. What if we can't make enough to live on? You'll make us starve to death!" She wailed.

"Vashta, I consider you and Ishta to be my personal responsibility. As long as I have food to eat and a roof over my head, you will have the same. I'm not closing the inn; I'm just limiting the range of amenities we provide. I believe it's for the best."

"Since when do you believe in anything? This is just a silly whim of yours. You'll bring us all to ruin with it," Vashta hissed.

"Shut up, Vashta," Ishta said. "Rahab, I'll stay with you. I think this plan of yours may just work. Let's try it at least."

"Thank you, Ishta," Rahab replied, " But you must understand. This is neither a whim nor something I plan to try for a while. I won't be going back to prostitution, and I want you girls to give it up to. I don't know where this will take us, but this is how it's going to be."