**A Song of Hope: The Eyes of the Servant**

In the days when the tribes of Israel were scattered and oppressed under the heavy hand of a foreign king, many of God’s people lived as exiles in a land not their own. Among them was a humble man named Eliab, a Levite whose ancestors had once served in the courts of the Lord’s temple. But now, far from Jerusalem, he and his family labored under the cruel rule of merciless masters.

Each morning, as the pale light of dawn crept over the hills, Eliab would rise from his meager pallet and lift his eyes toward the distant horizon—toward the unseen place where the temple once stood. His heart ached for home, for the presence of God, but all he could see were the towering walls of the city where he now dwelt, a constant reminder of his captivity.

Yet, though his body was bound, his spirit was free. He remembered the words of the psalmist, whispered from father to son through generations:

*”Unto You I lift up my eyes, O You who are enthroned in the heavens! Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till He has mercy upon us.”* (Psalm 123:1-2)

With these words etched in his soul, Eliab taught his children to do the same—to fix their gaze not on the cruelty of men, but on the mercy of God. His youngest daughter, Miriam, would often sit beside him in the cool of the evening, her small face turned upward as he spoke of the faithfulness of the Lord.

“Father,” she once asked, her voice trembling, “why does God not strike down our enemies and free us now?”

Eliab sighed, his calloused hands resting gently on her shoulders. “The Lord’s ways are not ours, little one. He sees our suffering, and He hears our cries. But we must wait upon Him, as a servant waits for the master’s command, trusting that in His time, He will act.”

Days turned into months, and months into years. The scorn of their oppressors grew heavier, their mockery sharper. “Where is your God now?” the taskmasters would sneer when the Israelites bowed in prayer. “Why does He not save you?”

But Eliab and his household did not waver. Every morning, without fail, they lifted their eyes to heaven, not in desperation, but in quiet confidence. They knew that the Lord, who had delivered their ancestors from Egypt, would not forget His people.

Then, one night, as Eliab slept, a vision came to him. He saw a great light descending from the heavens, and a voice spoke: *”Lift up your eyes and see, for your redemption draws near.”*

Startled awake, he rushed outside, his heart pounding. To the east, the first hints of dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson. And then—a sound. A distant rumble, like thunder, yet not thunder. The earth itself seemed to tremble.

Before the sun had fully risen, messengers came running through the streets, their voices filled with disbelief. “The king is dead! The empire is in chaos!”

In the days that followed, the power that had held them captive crumbled. The new ruler, fearing rebellion, decreed that all captives be released. The chains of Israel were broken.

As Eliab stood with his family at the gates of the city, free at last, Miriam tugged at his sleeve. “Father,” she whispered, tears in her eyes, “He heard us.”

Eliab smiled, lifting his face toward the heavens once more. “Yes, my child. The Lord has had mercy upon us.”

And so, with hearts full of gratitude, they began their journey home, their eyes ever fixed upon the One who had never turned His gaze away from them.

**The End.**