My unsteady feet carried me away from him, the strange rabbi from Galilee, and I returned to my home. I was silent, my heart too full to speak as I faded through the streets quietly, keeping out of sight of the public eye. As soon as I returned home I washed my body and covered my head once more. I performed my household duties and when it was time for the evening meal, I set the steaming food out for my husband and stood in the doorway, watching for him.

As I stood there and watched the evening colors of the sky bathe my home and land in pinks and purples, I dwelt on the feeling of peace that had pervaded my day as it progressed. It had washed away the fear and horror of the past and presented it to me as a distant memory.

With such a simple phrase, I had been made different. This rabbi that the city buzzed with talk about could be gifted with power by Yahweh himself. He carried the power of God in his hands.

I looked down at my own hands. There was so much I had questions about, so much that I needed to learn or I would never rest peacefully. I would find the rabbi and learn from him, grasping at anything I could. But the realization of three, simple things dawned on me.

I did not love Tobit any more. His name was like a ghost to me, foreign and old. I felt nothing but indifference and the pain of his treatment of me only stung when I thought about it. I would forget him and forget everything I have held onto all these years. It made no difference to me. I was free.

And yet, I no longer despised my husband. Erez was a good man, honorable and kind. I did not love him, but as I looked back at the place where we had shared many a meal, in my heart I knew I could. Anything could be possible now.

And then as the dusky form of Erez appeared on the horizon, wearily waving his hand in my direction, I waved back. I knew what to do, no matter how hard it would be. I would tell him everything. Everything that had happened, everything that I had always kept secret in my heart. He deserved to know, and perhaps if Yahweh blessed me once again with something I did not deserve, my husband would forgive me as well.

What was this grace, this forgiveness that had washed over my black-stained heart like the holy hand of our Healer? Someone so undeserving such as I did not deserve such a gift. Why had I been given it? I felt priceless and loved even after all I had done to sin against my Lord. I was cherished...and this fact my heart knew without a shadow of a doubt.

These questions I would seek. I would find the teacher and I would allow Yahweh to draw me close to himself once again. I would delight in serving Him and keeping His laws not because of duty, but because He had lifted me from my own death and raised me from my sins.

I, Chava, was whole once more.

I, Chava, was a broken vessel made new.