The man’s employer, Elisha, didn’t answer, but remained still, half slumped in his favorite porch chair. “We might be low on cheese and beans and such, but missing a meal or two wouldn’t be the end of the world,” he thought.

“Boss?” Jethro, asked again, in no hurry to weed the garden plot.

Elisha slowly raised his left arm, his pointing finger lifting toward Jethro. “Water today. Weed tomorrow.”

Jethro dropped his head and hunched his shoulders. He would rather have gone to Samaria, the nearest large city. Dothan, their local village was hardly more than a road bump. The priests didn’t even have a storehouse. In Samaria, he could visit friends, enjoy a piece of fruit offered by many “if he would remember the donor to the Man of God.” And… he might be able to get a glimpse of Anna, the young orphaned niece of Joab, Samaria's most successful furniture maker.

Watering the field meant at least dozens of trips from the community well to the garden, uphill with the full water skins, downhill with them empty. He distinctly remembered telling that very fact to Elisha before they’d ever broken ground. “Boss, if we plant below the well, we can tote water downhill.”

As was his habit, Elisha merely pointed to where he wanted this season’s garden.

Watering today, and weeding tomorrow meant three days, at least, until he could hope to see Anna. Jethro shrugged and sauntered to the shed for the shoulder yoke and two skins that he would use to haul water.

Satisfied with Jethro’s obedience, Elisha lowered himself back into his meditation.

Just before midday, Elisha called to Jethro. “Jethro! Stop watering.”

Jethro, who was then ambling his worn path back to the well, quickly trotted to Elisha. “Yes, Sir?”

 “I need you to run to the palace…”

“Samaria again?” he said with happiness in his up-tilting words.

Elisha snapped Jethro a chastening glare. “Tell King Jehoram that this time the Arameans will be at Jezreel. Jezreel in two days, on the second day.”

“Jezreel, the day after tomorrow, in two days.” Jethro repeated the instruction in his own words to make sure of his understanding. Normally, Elisha would repeat his instruction verbatim if that was his wish. This time, he considered Jethro’s interpretation good enough.

Jethro had long since stopped wondering where Elisha got his information or their veracity, or where he got his ability to perform miracles. Though he’d never seen or heard Elisha’s God, there was no doubt in his mind that Elisha had.

“If you run, you can get back before sundown and avoid the bandits – if you leave Anna alone.” Elisha chuckled to himself, knowing that Jethro had never said the first word about being sweet on the growing maiden.

Jethro let his lips flaps open and shut as if speaking, emitting nothing but amazement.

Ben-Hadad, the King of Aram, had been raiding towns and villages of Israel for far too long. It wasn’t outright war, but nuisance enough to cause concern. King Jehoram had yet to be convinced that he would prevail in a war. He wasn’t sure whether the tribes and cities would send their men, or if they did, the quality of their training. And who would lead them? Jehoram had no general that inspired men to valor.

Elisha returned to his repose, eventually rising to finish the watering himself.

“Jethro!” It had been nearly a week since Elisha last sent Jethro to King Jehoram. “Another run to the palace.”

Jethro looked toward the sun. “Boss, I don’t think I can make it there and back before dark. It’s kinda late.”

Elisha contained his grin. “If you run fast, you might make it back as far as the carpenter’s house. Tell Abrahim that I said to feed you and to put you up for the night.”

Jethro couldn’t stifle his joy. Abrahim was Anna’s uncle.

“Tell the King that the Arameans will attack Gilgal in three days.”

Jethro nodded. Not able to figure out how to say in three days any other way, he merely repeated the message – “Gilgal in three days.” It being early in the day, Jethro took off at a trot, but slowed to a fast walk as soon as he was out of Elisha’s sight.

Elisha smiled. With his mind’s eye he saw Jethro slow to his fast walk.

The next week, King Ben-Hadad summoned his military commanders, demanding to know who was the traitor who was tipping off the Israelites. “It’s like they are hearing the words right out of my mouth! They disappear just before we get there. Every time!” No one had an answer, declaring only their innocence.

After a moment’s hesitation, one of them spoke up. “They have a holy man, a prophet. A man of Yahweh named Elisha. I understand that he tells King Jehoram the very words you speak in your bedroom.”

Ben-Hadad glared at the man, wondering why he’d said bedroom instead of the great hall. What else did this man know? Dismissing his train of thought, he ordered them to learn where this Elisha lived, and to get back to him as fast as they could with the information.

Dothan. Elisha lived in the village of Dothan.

The very next morning Jethro came running back into the house to awaken Elisha. Frantic, Jethro screamed, “Boss! Boss! We’re surrounded! There’s an army with horses and chariots surrounding the town! Everybody’s goin’ crazy! What’re we gonna do?”

“Jethro, Jethro, calm down. Relax. Don’t be such a baby. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”

Though well aware of Elisha’s connection with God, Jethro actually saw the troops aligned around the village. He saw the glinting of the sun off the swords that would most certainly take off his head.

Jethro stuck his head out the door, then drew it back in, his eyes wide and trembling lips agape.

Elisha turned his head heavenward. “Oh Lord, open his eyes that he may see.” He then turned to his friend, Jethro. “Can you not see?”

Jethro again looked out the doorway. “Ahhgggg. Hah! I see the hills full of horses and chariots of fire! Hah! A heavenly army!” Jethro grinned toward Elisha, who smiled back.

“Step back, Son. I have work to do.”