Intense forceful wind swept the floor of
the desert hurling bits of sand that stung our faces. Yet, with feet feeling of
lead, we trudged toward the sea of tents.
The encampment seemed deserted, but muffled
voices filtered through the walls of each tent. Clearly, the brief sandstorm
had forced the inhabitants to remain sheltered.
Determined to reach the odd
rectangular-shaped structure in the midst of the camp, we wove our way through
crude walkways while our shadows, splashed against the tents, made known our
presence. By the time we reached our destination, whipping sand had given way
to searing heat and Nahshon, son of Amminadab, leader of the children of Judah
blocked our way.
