The Call of Deliverance

The sound of the trumpet split the silence of Israel’s hills. It was not a note

of fear but of awakening. After years of silence and surrender, a single blast declared that God had moved

again. Men ran from their fields and vineyards. Fathers gathered their sons.

Shepherds dropped their staffs and took up swords. The echo of the ram’s horn rolled

through the valleys, summoning courage long buried beneath oppression. Ehud stood on the

ridge of Ephraim, the wind catching his robe as the people assembled below.

They came because the sound was familiar— it was the same call their ancestors had heard when Jericho’s

walls fell. Now it meant something new: Moab’s walls were about to fall as