Jonah’s Reluctance and God’s Mercy (My side of the story)
I was arguing with a merchant when God spoke. The man had shorted me on barley. Not by much, but enough that it mattered. I held the sack open, running the grain through my fingers, counting by feel the way my father taught me. The merchant crossed his arms and smirked like he always did when he thought he’d won. “That’s a full measure,” he said. “You prophets think rules don’t apply to you.” “I’m not a prophet,” I snapped. “And this is light.” People were watching. I hated that. I hated being looked at like I was supposed to be something better, calmer, holier. I just wanted what was fair. The argument heated. Voices rose. Then the world shifted. “Jonah.” The sound cut through everything. The market noise dulled, like I’d gone underwater. The merchant kept talking, unaware I wasn’t there anymore. “Get up. Go to the great city of Nineveh and cry out against it, because its wickedness has come up before Me.” Nineveh. I knew Nineveh. Everyone did. Why would God ask me to go to ...