SunnyInspired

The Other Side of Jezebel

Part Two: My Right to Worship

Power is never without opposition. It is the nature of men to resist what they do not understand. When I came to Israel, I did not demand that they abandon their God. I did not stand in their streets and call for the destruction of their temples. No, I only asked for the freedom to worship as I had been raised. Was that a crime?

Yet from the moment I set foot in Samaria, the prophets of Israel took issue with me. They did not see me as a queen, a woman who had come in peace to strengthen their kingdom. No, to them, I was an outsider, an enemy, a foreign woman who dared to stand beside their king. And in their hatred, they twisted my intentions, spreading fear among the people.

I built temples for Baal, just as Solomon had built altars for his wives' gods before me. But unlike them, I was not granted the same tolerance. Instead, I was accused of leading Israel astray. But tell me, is a land so weak in its faith that one woman can undo generations of worship? If Israel’s people believed in their God, what threat was I to them?

Then came Elijah.

Ah, the prophet Elijah—wild, unrelenting, and obsessed with my downfall. He saw no room for compromise, no space for coexistence. To him, Israel must serve only one God, and those who worshiped differently had no right to live among them. He called down drought upon the land, blaming Ahab and me for the people’s suffering, though it was his own curse that had brought it upon them.

And when he challenged the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel, I did not interfere. Let them prove their god, I thought. Let there be a contest if that is what Elijah desired. But when my prophets were defeated, Elijah did not stop at proving his point—he slaughtered them, every last one. These were men who had only served as I had asked, men who had done no harm beyond their devotion to Baal. And yet, they were put to the sword like criminals.

Should I have remained silent? Should I have allowed this prophet to destroy those who shared my faith without consequence? No! I sent word that Elijah would be held accountable, that justice would be served. And what did he do? He fled like a coward. He who had defied kings and called down fire from the heavens ran at the mere threat of a woman’s vengeance.

They call me ruthless, but what of Elijah? What of those prophets who deemed my faith unworthy of existence? Was it not my right, as queen, as a woman of faith, to protect those who worshiped as I did? Or was I expected to bow, to submit, to let my people be butchered without a word?

No, I would not. I did not.

But I knew then that the battle lines had been drawn. And the war for my name, my legacy, had truly begun.

(To be continued...)

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