- Home
- Judy DuCharme
Blood Moon Redemption
Blood Moon Redemption Read online
Judy DuCharme has given us a story woven together with the historical blood moons past. Blood Moon Redemption takes the reader into a captivating drama, drawing from her rich knowledge of the ancient land of Israel.
—TRINA HANKINS
Mark Hankins Ministries
While the Bible makes it clear that no one knows the hour of Jesus’ return, it also gives us signs of His coming and tells us to be prepared. In Blood Moon Redemption, Judy DuCharme weaves together the biblical signs of the coming of Jesus with today’s news headlines to craft a page-turning tale of mystery and suspense. At the same time she delicately tells the story of a modern-day Jewish family grappling with the question of the Messiah, while interacting with Christians, Muslims, and Jews along the journey. With unexpected turns along the way, this story will surprise and delight, while inviting you to view today’s news headlines in a whole new light.
—DR. CRAIG VON BUSECK
Editor of Inspiration.org and author of I Am Cyrus: Harry S. Truman and the Rebirth of Israel
It is a very pleasant surprise to find a fictional story that is based in reality. Judy DuCharme’s novel Blood Moon Redemption explains a difficult spiritual truth in an extremely entertaining way.
The convergence of the modern blood moon quartet on Jewish Holy Days is of profound significance, and it is imperative to have a handle on it. This story will help you to do just that.
—J.R. BRESTIN
Master Control, WHMB TV-40, Indianapolis, IN
Blood Moon Redemption
©2018 by Judy DuCharme
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-62020-822-9
eISBN: 978-1-62020-828-1
Cover Design and Page Layout by Hannah Nichols
eBook Conversion by Anna Riebe Raats
AMBASSADOR INTERNATIONAL
Emerald House
411 University Ridge, Suite B14
Greenville, SC 29601, USA
www.ambassador-international.com
AMBASSADOR BOOKS
The Mount
2 Woodstock Link
Belfast, BT6 8DD, Northern Ireland, UK
www.ambassadormedia.co.uk
The colophon is a trademark of Ambassador, a Christian publishing company.
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate Blood Moon Redemption to all those who were such great influencers in the writing of my book. My husband Lee sowed the original idea and some key concepts, and he gave a few gentle nudges to get it done. Our son Chris plays a big part in the actual story and what you read is who Chris is. These two guys are the loves of my life. Thank you.
Then there are so many from my church and extended family who encouraged and exhorted me as well as prayed for me . . . so essential. Thank you to each of you. Christians United for Israel and Billye Brim Ministries were two places that provided understanding of and background information for the subject matter of the book. They also fostered my great love of Israel. The persistence of my agent, Joyce Hart, the readiness to publish of Ambassador International, the patience and oversight of my editor Daphne Self, and the beautiful cover creativity of Hannah Nichols have so blessed me. Of course, without the steadfastness of the Lord in my life, this work would never have been completed.
Our first grandchild was born this summer and though my excitement for the release of Blood Moon Redemption is so high, that little boy stole my heart. And as he grows and continues to bless my heart and be the focus of my love and prayers, I pray this book will bless and grow you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Endorsements
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Contact Information
PROLOGUE
1492, SPAIN
Terror. Fingers of fear constricted her throat. “Papa.” The word barely escaped Lydia’s lips.
Papa scooped her up, eyes wide, and held her close. The smell of anger filled the air. She did not understand it.
The warm summer evening now held a chill that penetrated her. Never had she known her little home to be full of people shouting.
Her father’s ever-present prayer shawl slipped off his shoulder. Lydia grabbed the tassel as he pulled her closer. Men—angry men—shoved Papa and Mama out the door. Lydia took one final look at the home she loved, the place she felt safe and free, the place where now people broke windows and smashed furniture.
The men yelled and yanked the prayer shawl. They ripped and tore it and laughed. Lydia buried her head in her father’s chest. His heart beat so loudly, but he said nothing. She gripped the tassel still wedged between them as the awful men shoved her Papa again, and her family stumbled away.
When she finally felt Papa’s hold on her lessen, the darkness of late evening settled around them. They were in the woods with a gentle rain falling as if the sky didn’t feel the fear.
Lydia screwed up her nose. The smoldering smell made her feel a little sick. She tried to understand the events of this day. In recent weeks fewer people walked the streets and visited their home. Usually guests came often to counsel with her father, the rabbi. She asked her father why one day. He told her times were hard and many moved away.
Papa always spoke with calmness and strength, and his answers satisfied Lydia’s curiosity. But nothing made sense now. Just a few weeks before she and her best friend Gabe whispered that everyone appeared fearful. Where they played they saw broken windows and scattered furniture. Soon she was confined to playing at home, seeing Gabe only at Shabbat. Plus, Shabbat wasn’t even in the synagogue any more since a fire had destroyed their lovely building.
“Papa, where is your prayer shawl?”
“Oh, sweetheart, they took it, but God’s Word is in our hearts and we are alive.” His deep brown eyes looked sad, but Lydia, even in the dark, could see the ever-present peace she loved.
“Papa, look!” Lydia opened her hand. She held the tassel from the prayer shawl.
“Oh, Lydia, we are blessed. God has given us a piece of Himself to take with us wherever we go.”
Lydia wasn’t sure if she saw tears or rain on his face. “Where can we go? Is our house still there? Mama, why are you crying?”
Mama put her face in her hands. Water droplets dripped from her hair as it fell forward. “Reuben, what can I say?”
Papa set Lydia down and wiped his wife’s tears. “We must always tell the truth, my dear Esther. Lydi must know, hard as it is. In the long run, it is always better. No matter how hard, we have God’s promise that He will bring us through.”
They continued through the woods as the shadows lengthened and disappeared. Mama took her hand. “My sweet Lydia, we will be strong even though our house is no longer there.” Mama’s voice shook. “They burned all the houses in our neighborhood. See, look there.” They paused and peered through the darkening woods. Glimpses of flames darted before their
eyes. “We are too far to see well, but those are the houses of our friends.”
Lydia strained to see the houses, but the smoke and darkness made her view hazy. “I smell smoke, Papa. Perhaps there is a camp fire and neighbors nearby to keep us warm.” Lydia looked first to her mother and then her father.
“That smoke is from the burning houses, sweetheart.” Papa stooped down and picked Lydia up again. “Lydi, they would find us and hurt us if we started a fire. We must trust God to keep us warm tonight.”
Lydia looked her father in the eye. “Gabe told me they cut people open because they thought they had jewels in them.”
Mama gasped. Papa held Lydia close. “Yes, yes, they did that. It was evil, Lydi.” He gulped. “It was evil, but we must take comfort that those friends are now in Abraham’s bosom and free from all pain.” He stopped and peered through the woods. Then he spoke in his stern voice. “We need to find a place to hide and then get ourselves out of Spain. There is no mercy here for Jews.”
Mama put her hand on Papa’s arm. “No. We must travel as far as possible now and then hide in the daylight. They will find us easily if we hide nearby and travel in the morning. Look there is a partial moon to give us enough light to travel.”
“But, Mama, there are so many clouds. They block the light of the moon.”
Mama touched Lydia’s head. “Yes, but that is good. The evil men will perhaps not follow us, because of the clouds and rain. We can go on the little light we get. We know these woods better than they do.”
“Papa, I can walk. I will pretend we are playing a game and Gabe is trying to catch us. Papa, is Gabe okay?”
Papa sighed. “Truthfully, Lydi, I do not know. I pray he and his family are alive.”
There was a shuffle of leaves and the breaking of a branch behind them. A voice nearby, pierced the air around Lydia’s family. “We are well, but if you insist on being so noisy, we will all be dead, dear Rabbi.”
A muffled scream left Mama’s mouth. In the attempt to quiet herself, she tripped and fell. Papa threw his body over Mama. Lydia dropped next to them before she realized they heard friendly voices.
“Esther, Reuben, I am so sorry. I did not mean to frighten you. I thought you heard us as well as we heard you. Are you hurt?” Mr. Goldman, Gabe’s father, hurried to assist Papa and Mama from their crumpled positions on the ground.
“I landed on this branch full force on my ribs.” Mama groaned as she accepted the hand extended and struggled to rise. “I must look a sight, covered with dirt.” She attempted to laugh but sucked in her breath. “I perhaps bruised my rib.”
Papa put his arm around her to help her stand upright. “You look wonderful, Esther. You are alive. You will heal.” He turned to the Goldmans. “Dear friends, we are so encouraged to see you alive.”
Papa always had good words to say. That was why he was such a good rabbi.
Gabe’s father kissed Papa on each cheek. “Oh, Rabbi, we have lost all, but now that we see you and your family, we have proof that God is still with us.”
Lydia pushed herself between the two men. “And look, we still have Papa’s tassel. The bad people took everything else.”
“Let me see that, Lydi.” Gabe held it in his hand. He was a little taller than Lydia and almost a whole year older. The nine-year-old looked up. “What is the prayer, Father? ‘The Lord our God is one . . . ’” As Gabe said the words, everyone echoed the refrain, visibly relaxing as peace settled on the small bedraggled group. Gabe smiled as he looked at Lydia’s father. “I want to be a rabbi someday.”
Papa ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’ll make a fine one.”
The boy handed him the tassel. “Come on, Lydi, we know where we can go. Mama’s cousin is sailing to find new land, and he is taking all of us with him.”
Gabe’s mother hushed him. “Do not speak loudly, son. The trees have ears.”
Lydia and Gabe laughed. “I don’t think that’s true, Mrs. Goldman.” Lydia paused. “Is it, Papa? You said it’s better to know the truth.”
Papa chuckled. “She means there could be bad people hiding and listening to us. But, Anna, what does Gabe mean?”
In the ever-darkening haze, Gabe’s mother held her finger to her lips and looked around. Everyone stood still and followed her gaze. She moved close and indicated with her arms for them to draw close in a huddle. “My cousin is Cristobal Colombo. The queen knows only he is Spanish and Italian. She does not know he is Jewish as well.”
“He denies his faith?” Mama rubbed her ribs.
“He only appears to do so, so he isn’t evicted as are we. He has won the favor of the queen and king and been given permission to set sail with three ships. He is smuggling many Jews out of the country and we are able to go. You will come with us, Reuben. We need a rabbi.”
Lydia jumped up and down. She was about to squeal but was quickly shushed by all the adults.
“This is truly amazing.” Papa placed his hands together in front of his face and sighed deeply. “How soon does he sail? You’re sure there will be room for us?”
“There is room for every displaced Jew, every Jew that has been forced to convert to Catholicism, and every Gentile who is willing to let the Jews live.” Gabe’s father, Joseph Goldman, placed his hand on Papa’s shoulder. “Rabbi Reuben Liebermann, we need you. We sail in three days. We must be on the ship in two. Praise be to God that we have found you.”
Gabe grabbed Lydia’s hand. “Let’s go, Lydi. We will sail to a new land and grow up together. I will be a rabbi and you will be my wife.”
Lydia pulled her hand away. “Will not. Gabe, I will hit you if you try to marry me.”
“Shh, children.” Gabe’s father took them each by the hand. “Let’s get to the boat. There will be plenty of time to talk of marriage. Now we must concentrate on staying alive.”
They proceeded carefully through the woods, occasionally tripping on roots and rocks, but staying close enough to catch each other before anyone else could fall. Lydia and Gabe yawned and rubbed their eyes but did not complain. She could hear Gabe’s mother and Mama as they whispered about the homes and friends now lost, the children, and their wonderings of what sailing would be like.
Gabe’s father and Papa diligently watched for any other people who might be in the woods. Mr. Goldman was in the front of the group with her and Gabe. Mama and Mrs. Goldman walked behind him with arms locked while Papa followed directly behind them, praying and quoting Scripture.
They neared the edge of the woods, and Lydia could see roofs of houses in the distance. Mr. Goldman turned. “Praise God we’ve made it safely this far. We know the way to another cousin’s house not far from here.”
Papa came close to Mr. Goldman. “Joseph, how is it they have not been evicted or killed. Are they not Jews?”
Mrs. Goldman laid her hand on Reuben’s arm. “Rabbi, they are, but they have pretended to become Catholic.”
Papa pulled his arm away and placed his hand over his mouth. He looked away. “We are forbidden.”
Mrs. Goldman stepped around to see Papa’s face. “No, Rabbi, it was for life. It was for our lives. They remain Jews to the core. This is simply to protect the many who must escape. Please understand. It was not easy.” She implored him with her eyes.
Mama took Papa’s hand. “Reuben, she is right. God has made a way of escape for us. Anna, is that why you remained when you could have left earlier when the decree was given?”
Anna nodded, and Mr. Goldman placed his arm around her. “Anna has worked closely with her cousin and kept in touch with many who pretended to convert. She was able to make lists for Cristobal. He used them to hire crew and create a list of passengers for the queen. Anna was not able to talk directly with him, but another cousin ‘converted’ as soon as all this began to be discussed so that he could be the go-between. It is to his home we must go now.”
Papa shook his head. “Yes, yes, mysterious are His ways. Sometimes past finding out. Anna, thank you for your faithfulness
. I never knew and often wondered why you stayed so long.”
Mrs. Goldman smiled. “We wondered the same about you, Rabbi.”
“I could not leave my flock. I knew I must stay as long as possible. Esther and I knew the danger but felt we must do it.” Papa rubbed his hand on his face, then nodded. “We will go.”
“But won’t soldiers be around?” Mama wrapped her arms around herself and rocked.
Mr. Goldman touched Mama’s shoulder. “Because this is a Catholic area, there are fewer soldiers. They will be checking, but since all the Catholics are either Jews, or Catholics who wish us no harm, I think we’ll be safe. I have been here many times with Anna. We must hurry, though, so we don’t draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”
The small group held hands and prayed for protection. As they were about to exit the woods, a man stepped out from the shadows nearby. His hair was long and white, sprinkled with gray. His nose was large and his deep-set eyes kind. A few missing teeth were revealed when he smiled, but the most notable aspect of this man was the uncanny glow. Did it emanate from within or without?
“May I be of assistance, my friends?” His voice was strong, but kind.
Mr. Goldman whirled around. “Put out your flame, man.” His voice was a hiss. “You’ll get us all killed.”
The strange man held out his arms. “I’m here to protect you.”
Papa hesitated and grabbed Lydia’s hand. Mama’s hands were over her eyes as tears streamed down her face. Peeking out through her fingers, she stepped behind her husband.
“Who . . . who are you?” Papa took a step toward the man then stopped. Lydia wondered if Papa felt what she felt, an overwhelming impulse to kneel.
Lydia studied the man. “Papa, it’s okay. He is here to help us. I think that’s God shining out of him.” She felt her father relax.
“Lydia is right. Rabbi Liebermann, Mr. Goldman, have no fear. My name is Hernando Wental.” His eyes emanated peace. “Follow me. I will escort you all safely to your friend’s house.”
Papa hesitated. “But the light. It will expose us.”