From the Courtroom to Paddan Aram: The Case For Rachel

I think we owe Rachel a massive apology.

Because I’m not convinced she did the things we’ve spent the last 3,000 years accusing her of.

Somehow, over centuries of retelling her story, assumptions have become facts:

• The Bible tells us Rachel was beautiful, so we decided she was vain.

• The Bible tells us Rachel was infertile, forced to endure the pain of watching her own husband and sister have children together. Then one day she got angry with him, so we decided she was bitter and discontent.

• The Bible tells us Rachel took her father’s household idols, so we decided she worshipped them.

• The Bible tells us Rachel couldn’t stand up during the search for the idols because she had her period, so we decided she was lying.

But where’s the evidence?

As a litigation lawyer, my job was to find the truth buried under mountains of documents. I’d interview witnesses and create detailed timelines, weighing every piece of evidence. It was painstaking work, but it mattered, because only the facts were relevant.

And I never did it alone. I’d run the case past a colleague usually Pete, who is now my husband, to make sure it was sound.

Those analytical skills are so deeply ingrained in me that despite no longer practicing law, I still approach research for Biblical fiction in much the same way - beginning with the source document, the Bible. I read the passage word by word, intentionally stripping away assumptions and avoiding commentaries to simply look at the facts.

Once the known facts are clear, I’ll look at the original Hebrew, where place names and personal names hold so much weight. I look for symbols, patterns, and repeating phrases unlocking the context of the story, and because iron sharpens iron, my friend and research partner, Jess, and I always start with prayer, asking God to correct any wrong conclusions and show us what we’re missing.

When I researched Genesis, something remarkable happened: The case against Rachel became what we, in the legal field, call a “straw man”. There was nothing to substantiate it.

The Rachel who emerged wasn't spoiled, arrogant, or bitter, but a woman deeply loved and deeply wounded, trying to survive a heartbreaking, messy family dynamic. Metaphorically, I saw she represented the bride of Christ, while Leah, striving to obtain a love she could never secure by her own efforts, represented the law.

Real life is messy. Families are complicated. People make mistakes and hurt one another. Sometimes we respond badly to things that hurt us deeply - and sometimes we’re judged for things we never actually did. The more clearly I saw Rachel, the more compassion I felt for her. It made me wonder how often we do the same thing to other characters in Scripture - and the people in our own lives.

• How often do we take one sentence, one reaction, one difficult decision and build an entire story around it?

• How often do we fill in the gaps with assumptions until the person we’re judging bears little resemblance to the person who’s actually in front of us?

I had to set the record straight, to write Rachel’s story and the stories of those around her with the compassion and understanding she deserved. Jessi was so moved by the Rachel we discovered that she named her own daughter Rachel Beth (after Bethel, the house of God the tribe was journeying toward). For me, that same discovery birthed a creative child of my own: Rachel, Beloved of Israel.

If you've ever been misunderstood, misjudged or navigated a complicated season where waiting for God’s promise to be fulfilled looks impossible, you may find a friend in Rachel. Maybe she deserves your fair hearing too?

I’d love you to join me on this journey as we learn what it means to live as God's beloved.

Join to receive my monthly letters. I’ll send you the first chapter of Rachel, Beloved of Israel and my 7 day devotional designed to sit alongside. You’ll also be among the first to hear when the book is published and to receive an invitation to join my launch team.

And if you’re a literary agent or publisher who loves deeply researched, scripturally faithful historical fiction, I’d love to hear from you.