And rejoice before the LORD your God at the place he will choose as a dwelling for his Name—you, your sons and daughters, your male and female servants, the Levites in your towns, and the foreigners, the fatherless and the widows living among you. Jehoiada held his brokenhearted wife on the small couch in their outer chamber. “Abba didn’t even recognize me. He’s out of his mind with pain, writhing on a straw pallet in his chamber. Only one doctor is allowed to treat him, and that man looks like death.” Overcome, she sobbed the broken words into the sleeve of Jehoiada’s priestly robe. “I should never have let you go,” he whispered—as much to himself as to her. She lifted her head, pausing her tears. “I may never see Abba alive again. As difficult as it was to see him, I needed to go.” He wrapped her in the cocoon of his priestly robe, wishing he could protect her from life’s pain.
