I was sitting there musing about the Labor Day feast I’d be eating later on, thinking of what wine to pair with the ham dad was baking, when there was a sudden snapping of branches and stomping in the undergrowth of something huge barreling through the woods.

I shouldn’t have gone hunting today. But it’s the final day of the season, and I have one last tag I want to fill. Still, it looked like a bad idea right from the start.

Jephthah was a marvel. Hulking in his armor, sun glittering off his greaves, helm, and shield, he was impregnable.

The hood sprang open and slammed against the windshield, and I was hurtling along the highway full-speed in the center lane, surrounded by traffic, and the hood was perfectly blocking any view in front of me.

Shobi knew that he couldn’t allow the young Hebrews to perceive him as their ruler for very long. They would soon have the power to overthrow him. And, when they did, Nahash would likely side with them. At his age, the bonds of friendship would quickly eclipse the bonds of blood. So Shobi decided that tonight, while he was still firmly in control, he would cease to be a slave-master. He would become a different kind of Master.

It was wall to wall in there. The Ladies of Lulu Lemon were on parade, the Gym Bros were in full strut, and you could cut the pheromones with a knife.

Jephthah heard voices. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open or shut. His head hurt, he felt sick, and he couldn’t remember what had happened. But even in this confused state, he thought there was something wrong with the voices he was hearing. The words sounded wrong. The speakers pronounced them strangely and jumbled the order too. Yet, he could still understand them.

Just like the Karate Kid, I found my Mr. Miyagi through dumb luck. My very first phone call just happened to connect me to one of the preeminent practitioners of Taekwon-Do in Canada: Master Grant Arden at Apollo Taekwon-Do.

Jephthah was cold, and his body ached. Whatever strength and resilience had flowed into him during the vision was gone now, and he felt every bruise and cut that Zephon laid on him the previous day. He’d spent the night outside of the village, eaten nothing and slept little. After his conversation with his father, Jephthah wasn’t sure that he ever wanted to go home again.

I hit the jackpot. At my latest job in the corporate world, there’s an executive class gym for the people who work in the building. Given the cost of gym memberships, it’s no small windfall...

We called them Judges, these men who rose to power and fought back Israel’s enemies. What a righteous sounding word: Judges. The songs around the campfire and the gossip in the market have already rewritten their stories. The Judges were barely in their graves before every fault was forgiven and every skirmish hailed as a great victory for the nation. As though they were above it all, as though their campaigns weren’t just another war of domination. Maybe they were. I don’t k

“Dad, listen… I’m in trouble.” This is not a call any father wants to receive, especially when he knows his son is alone in the woods at night. I felt bad for putting him through it even as I said the words. But I didn’t know what else to do...

I had only been in Taekwon-Do for about three months when I went to my first tournament. I’d never been in a ring with a stranger who was going to try to punch and kick me in the face. I was skittish and ill-prepared...