Free The Gate of Heaven by Gilbert Morris

the ways of the Hebrews, and the tradition of the oldest son as the leader was very strong in her. But stronger than this was the memory of God’s message to her, which over the years had not grown fainter but had only increased. Even now she could recall every detail of that moment when God had spoken to her. She lifted her hands and said, “Oh, God, Jacob and I will do your will, and it will come to pass as you have said—that the older shall serve the younger.” She turned quickly then and left the tent.

    The sun was high in the sky, beaming down its warmth and life-giving qualities. Jacob had paced throughout the camp all morning after he had delivered the dressed kids to his mother. He knew she had started cooking the meat, and she had warned him not to get too far away.
    Now he started toward the cook tent, and when he stepped inside, his mother turned to face him. She was pale, he saw, but her back was straight and her eyes glowed with an intensity he had never before seen.
    â€œAll things are ready, my son. Come, let me prepare you.”
    Jacob stepped forward and saw that she held something in her hand.
    â€œWhat’s that, Mother?”
    â€œLet me tie these on your forearms.”
    Jacob obediently put out his right arm and leaned forward as she quickly put something over him. “What is this?” he said. “It looks like a skin of the kid.”
    â€œIt is. Your father, as you say, loves to touch. He will put his hands on you, and your smoothness will tell him at once that you are Jacob.” As she spoke, Rebekah fastened the woolly skin over his forearm. It fit exactly, and she tied it on with leather thongs through holes she had pierced. Jacob ran his left hand over it. “It does feel like hairy skin,” he murmured.
    â€œHere. Let me put on the other one.”
    Jacob watched as she finished the work and held his arms up. “How did you ever think of this?”
    Rebekah did not answer. She turned and said, “I’ve prepared the meat. Your father won’t be able to tell it from venison. I’ve seasoned it the way he likes.” She went outside and Jacob followed her. Bending over, she picked up a bowl and then a wooden ladle. Dipping it into the black pot that was sitting over the fire, she filled the bowl and put a smaller spoon in it. She turned and held it out to Jacob. As he took it, she stared at him intently. “Speak as little as possible. Your brother’s voice is stronger. So speak loudly.”
    Jacob swallowed hard, a touch of fear gripping his stomach. “If he finds me out, I’ll be ruined, Mother. I will have to leave forever.”
    â€œYou will not be found out. He’s expecting Esau, and his mind isn’t clear. Go now. This is our time, Jacob, yours and mine. God has told us to do it.”
    Jacob had always envied those who heard the voice of God, especially Abraham, his grandfather. Isaac had also been in the presence of the all-powerful God who ruled the world, the Eternal One who made all things. Jacob believed implicitly his mother’s words that God had spoken to her, and now he steeled himself and said, “I’m trusting in the word that you got from the Eternal One, Mother.”
    â€œThat is good, my son—now, go!”
    Jacob walked quickly to the door of the tent, pushing back the front flap. A burning oil lamp threw its yellow corona of light over his father, who lay as if asleep. For one moment Jacob hesitated. His father’s face looked so wan and tired that he thought, I can’t take advantage of a poor old man . But his mother’s words overcame his objections. Besides, as he had wandered the camp that morning, he had reasoned for the acceptability of their plan from the behavior of both his father and his grandfather. Both of them did a wrong thing in order for a good thing to come. If I do this one thing that is wrong, I will be able to do many great things. Esau has