The Prostitute

THE CHOSEN PROSTITUTE
(Joshua chapters 2&6)
I hear a knock on the door. 
My daughter opens and two men appear.
She hugs them both. 
At other times, I would have assumed 
these men were her customers. 
But this time was different. 
I look out of the house. 
The entire city is levelled to the ground. 
Rubles everywhere. 
Corpses litter the streets. 
Shouts of victory and wails of 
agony rent the air. 
I look around the house. 
Everybody seem happy, glad to 
be alive, glad to have been spared 
the fate of those outside. 
And the reason is simple: 
Rahab my promiscuous daughter decided 
to bring us into her house to save us 
from the destruction and death coming 
to those on the outside. 
The last few days have been crazy.
The last few years have been embarrassing. 
I stand there, looking at my daughter 
talking with these two men and I wonder, 
“God, why are your ways so different 
from the ways of men? 
Why do you seem to delight in taking 
the small stuff to confound the great?”
Let me backtrack a bit…
You see, I live in a city called Jericho. 
I have been living here for over 
sixty years. I was born in this city. 
I got married in this city, 
I had all my children- seven of them- 
in this city. 
Six of them turned out well. 
They are a source of pride to me 
and my wife. 
One is a Medical Doctor. 
Another an Accountant. 
There is an Architect among them, 
an Engineer also. 
My daughters studied Law and 
Business Administration. 
Rahab, my third daughter chose 
another path in life: PROSTITUTION. 
She stuck out like a sore thumb. 
We all were embarrassed by her 
career choice. 
We talked to her, we threatened, 
we prayed and fasted, we did all 
we knew to do to change her from 
this path of destruction to no avail. 
She was already decisive on her career 
path. And she seemed very proud of it! 
How could anybody be proud of being a 
prostitute? 
I just could not understand it. 
It was against our culture, tradition 
and religion. It was IMMORAL! 
Yet, Rahab couldn’t care less. 
Just five years into her prostitution 
career, she seemed to have slept with 
half of the men in the city, the other 
half on a queue waiting for their turn…
Several of my friends had had 
their turn with her. 
Several of her brothers’ friends too. 
We once had a meeting to discuss how 
to handle this embarrassment and one 
of her brothers suggested “mercy killing”. 
He felt it would be better she were dead 
and gone. Better to have a dead sister 
than a prostitute, he submitted. 
I did not agree with him because 
I believed Rahab could still change her ways. 
And a few months ago, we started 
hearing stories about a tribe of people 
conquering territories and heading towards 
our city. 
It got everybody panicking. 
The news we got suggested these guys 
could never be stopped. 
They seem to have secured the support 
of God in their quest, and we all knew 
nobody could fight against God and win.
Then a few days ago, my daughter Rahab 
called me. 
Honestly, I did not want to pick her call. 
I was too disappointed in her- we had not 
spoken in almost a year. I eventually picked. 
She was very excited on the phone.
 “Hello, dad! Guess what?” 
Ah! What is she up to now? 
Has she managed to get the King in her 
bed now? “I have some news for you! 
I think you’re going to be proud of me…” 
Then she went on to tell me how she 
accommodated two men who were spies 
for the all-conquering tribe. 
They had defeated our two neighbouring cities 
and killed their kings, Og and Sihon. 
And they are heading to Jericho next. 
And as fate would have it, 
the spies met the popular prostitute who 
accommodated them and shielded them from 
the king of Jericho. As they were leaving, 
they asked her to get into her home everybody 
she wanted to save from the coming destruction 
and death. And she called me. 
She wanted to save her family, her parents, 
siblings and all…
I dropped the phone, dazed. 
Immediately, we drove over to her 
house to escape the looming carnage, 
Rahab looks around the house. 
She makes eye contact with us all, 
with a wry smile on her face. 
In that moment, my son, her brother 
hugged her and said, “Thank you, sis! 
I just imagined my corpse being out 
there with the others. 
I feel a very strong sense of gratitude…”
I laughed, thinking, “Just a few months ago, 
you recommended mercy killing for her!”
I cannot help but wonder: of all 
people to save, God picked my daughter- 
the Black Sheep. 
He did not pick the Lawyer. 
He did not pick the Economist. 
He picked the Prostitute!
God is just amazing…