A Lineage of Grace (53 page)

“A ruse?”

“Joab put the words in her mouth.”

Disturbed, Bathsheba stood and moved away. Joab again. Was Joab sending the king another message:
Bring Absalom back or I stand with him against you?

“My father would be wise to keep Absalom close so he can watch him,” Solomon said.

“Yes, he would.” She looked back at him. “Speak with Nathan about this. See what he has to say!” She intended to pray that David would not give in to his volatile emotions again. Joab had manipulated him, but retaliation would serve no purpose.

When David was told that Absalom was coming up the mountain to Jerusalem, he struck a blow against Joab. “Absalom may go to his own house, but he must never come into my presence.” David had slammed the door of reconciliation in his son’s face in order to put Joab in his place.

When Bathsheba heard what David had done in anger, she grieved. How long before Absalom’s pride demanded retribution? And how many would die when he lashed out again? The word of the Lord given through Nathan so many years before stood: the sword would be a constant threat to David’s family.

* * *

It took two years for the fire in Absalom’s heart to come out into the open.

“Absalom set fire to Joab’s field,” Shobab told Bathsheba one afternoon as she talked with her growing sons.

Solomon shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time now before Joab comes to Abba and pleads our brother’s case,” Solomon said grimly.

“If your father reconciles with Absalom, it can only be good for the nation.” She wished for an end to familial hostilities. The breech with his eldest surviving son depressed David and divided the people. Many felt Absalom justified in killing Amnon because the king had not acted according to the Law in avenging the rape of Absalom’s sister. Others said David’s inaction was a sign of indecision, not mercy. An indecisive king was a weak king, open to the schemes and machinations of enemies, and David had enemies on all sides. Only God could protect him and keep him on the throne.

“No good will come of this, Mother,” Solomon said. “If Absalom dared to set fire to Joab’s field, what more will he dare besides?”

“Are you implying he will stand against the king?”

“He’s too shrewd to be so open. And he needs allies. Joab won’t stand with him now. But you know better than I how proud Absalom is.”

Shimea laughed. “I heard he weighs his hair every time he cuts it!”

“His beauty has made him vain,” Bathsheba said quietly.

“Everyone is charmed by his good looks, but he’s filled with deceit. Abba ordered him to his own house two years ago, and that command hasn’t changed. Two years is more than enough time to stoke the fires in Absalom’s belly.”

Bathsheba searched for reasons to hope for peace. “Absalom is heir to the throne. He needs to be patient. He has nothing to gain by dividing a nation he will one day rule.”

Solomon laughed without humor. “The only time I’ve seen my brother show patience was during the two years he plotted the murder of Amnon.”

She rose. “We will speak no more of this now.” She couldn’t bear it. “Keep your eyes open and tell me what you see and hear.” She knew if Absalom ever challenged David and won, her life and the lives of her sons would be forfeit.

Solomon bowed his head. Bending down, he kissed her cheek. He started to say something more, but she put her fingers over his lips. “Speak with the prophet Nathan about your concerns,” she said. “Seek the counsel of the Lord.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She kissed him and each of her sons and watched them leave.

Lord God, protect my sons. Let the sins of the past fall on my head and not on theirs.

* * *

David heard Joab’s plea and allowed Absalom to come before him, but the kiss he bestowed upon his son was less in affection than official pardon. Soon after, Bathsheba heard that Absalom had taken to riding in a horse-drawn chariot with fifty men running before him as though he were already king. He rose early and went down to stand by the gate road, intercepting those who came to Jerusalem to have their cases heard before the king, telling them he was the only one who would listen and judge justly, and making promises only a king could fulfill.

When he came before David and asked to go to Hebron to fulfill a vow he’d made, David let him go, too preoccupied with his own comforts and pleasure to sense Absalom’s true motive.

Absalom left Jerusalem with two hundred invited guests and declared himself king in Hebron. “All Israel has joined Absalom in a conspiracy against you,” David was told by messengers.

And now Absalom was on his way to Jerusalem, with an army, to take the throne from his father.

* * *

Women and servants scrambled around the palace, gathering what they would need for a journey. David had given orders that his household was to leave Jerusalem before Absalom could arrive with his army. Only ten concubines would stay behind and keep the palace in order.

Bathsheba kept her sons close by her side as David led them out with all his people after him. As they stopped on the outskirts of the city, six hundred men joined forces with them, foreigners who had come to see the king. David told them they should leave, that this wasn’t their battle. Bathsheba was relieved when they swore allegiance to him and remained. David would need all the men he could muster if they were to survive.

Men and women were weeping and wailing as they crossed the stream of Kidron, heading out toward the wilderness. Zadok, the high priest, and all the Levites followed David with the Ark of God, but when David heard about it, he told them to go back to Jerusalem.

“If the Lord sees fit, He will bring me back to see the Ark and the Tabernacle again. But if He is through with me, then let Him do what seems best to Him.” He walked barefoot and wept, keeping his head covered as he grieved over his rebellious son.

As David led his people up the Mount of Olives, a messenger came, dusty and exhausted. “Ahithophel is among the conspirators!”

Bathsheba dropped to her knees and cried out. She covered her head with dust. She wept, remembering her grandfather, the man she’d loved as a child and a young woman—his laughter, his love, his tender devotion to his family. Ahithophel was at last taking his vengeance against her and David. She felt David’s eyes upon her and put her head against her thighs, ashamed of what her love for him had caused.

She put her hands over her head when she heard David cry out in anguish and wrath. “O Lord, let Ahithophel give Absalom foolish advice!”

Counselors and advisers surrounded David, all speaking at once, drawing him away from her. Bathsheba felt strong arms lift her and heard Solomon’s fierce whisper. “God will protect us.”

“My fault,” she choked. “This is all my fault.”

He embraced her, protecting her from those who stared. “Should the sins of everyone be laid at your feet?”

She shook with grief. “The avalanche started years ago, my son, and the whole mountain is coming down on us this time!”

“Each man makes his own decision, Mother. Ahithophel’s sin will rest upon his own head.”

She shook her head. “He’s your great-grandfather.”

“He requested leave and went home to Giloh years ago, using the excuse that Israel was at peace. Now we know the real reason for his departure. Treachery!” Solomon drew back while still giving her support. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from all this, Mother, it’s not to trust anyone, even someone of your own blood.”

“You can trust me. You can trust your father.”

“I love you, Mother, and I trust you, but what power have you? And I love my father, but the king lost touch with his people years ago.”

Bathsheba didn’t reprimand her son for his words because he said them with sorrow and not condemnation. She thought of her grandfather again, and her heart quaked. All these years he had pretended to be at peace with David while seeking an opportunity to destroy him.

Oh, if only I’d been stronger and wiser . . .

She stopped the thought.
If only . . . if only . . .
What was the use in such thinking? It was too late to wish she’d done things differently. They were all stained with sin, and sacrifices merely covered it with another’s blood.

Oh, God of mercy, how I long to be free of my sins, to be an innocent child again, as white as snow.

Had Ahithophel thought through his vengeance? Could he hate her and David so much that he would destroy himself to get even? If he succeeded in setting Absalom on the throne, David would die. She would die. And the lives of Ahithophel’s four great-grandsons would be forfeit as well! Angry and desperate, she prayed with every step that her husband’s prayer would be answered and God would confuse her grandfather’s advice to Absalom. For without God’s favor, all would be lost. Ahithophel knew more about waging a successful war than any man in the kingdom, including Joab, who now marched with David, protecting him against the son with whom he had once schemed. Joab with his murderous pride. Joab with his hidden motives and deadly ambition! He’d pulled David in a dozen directions over the past three decades!

She looked up at Solomon. “You and your brothers must go and stand with your father.”

“We are standing with him.”

“No. Stay
close
to him. Protect him from Absalom and anyone else who might harm him. If the king falls, we all fall.” Tears blinded her. “Show David he has sons he can trust!”

As she walked alone among the throng leaving Jerusalem with David, she remembered conversations from years past around her father’s campfire at En-gedi.
“Kill Saul,”
Abishai had once said.
“Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter,”
Joab had advised. David had left the fire, refusing to listen, and her grandfather had discussed the matter with her father after the others followed.
“Joab’s advice is shrewd. Saul’s death would put an end to this war and place David on the throne. But there would be no blessing for David if he kills the Lord’s anointed.”

No blessing.

The last thing her grandfather would want now was blessing on the house of David. And what better way to avenge his so-called honor than by setting son against father? Ahithophel would destroy a nation because of his pride. Were all men so evil-bent, so lacking in the ability to forgive? What right had man to judge what God redeemed? Her mother had warned her years ago that her grandfather would never let the matter go. She had hoped and prayed that he would take a different course. She wept now as she saw that Ahithophel had only pretended to forgive. She knew he would advise Absalom to pursue and kill David. And if successful, Absalom’s kingdom would be cursed as well, for what nation could prosper through a son’s shedding his own father’s blood? The house of David would fall.

Oh, Lord, Lord, that one night of sin could bring such sorrow!

No matter what happened, someone she loved was going to die.

Let it be Ahithophel, Lord.
She wept at uttering such a prayer.
Let it be my grandfather and not my husband and sons.

* * *

As David led his people to Bahurim, a man named Shimei from the family of Saul came out and shouted curses at him. The man kept pace, picked up stones, and hurled them, along with his bitter words, at David and his servants. “Get out of here, you murderer!” he screamed in rage. “You scoundrel! The Lord is paying you back for murdering Saul and his family. You stole his throne, and now the Lord has given it to your son Absalom. At last you will taste some of your own medicine, you murderer!”

Abishai drew his sword. “Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over and cut off his head!”

David cried out in anger and despair. “No! What am I going to do with you sons of Zeruiah! If the Lord has told him to curse me, who am I to stop him?” He wept and shouted, “My own son is trying to kill me. Shouldn’t this relative of Saul have even more reason to do so? Leave him alone and let him curse, for the Lord has told him to do it. And perhaps the Lord will see that I am being wronged and will bless me because of these curses.”

David continued along the road, wincing at every word Shimei laid upon his head. He felt stones strike him. He tasted the dust the Benjaminite kicked up.

When the people grew too weary to go farther, he gave orders to camp. He’d done all he could. He had sent another of his military advisers, Hushai, to pretend allegiance to Absalom. He instructed Hushai to counter whatever counsel Ahithophel gave. David had also sent Zadok the priest and his sons back into Jerusalem to act as messengers for Hushai. If there was any hope for escape, Hushai would see that David got word. Everything rested in God’s hands. The outcome would be according to God’s will.

I will die if my son pursues me now, Lord. I’m too tired to go on, and my people need rest. Help me. Oh, God, help me!

He took off his crown and held it in his hands. “Oh, Lord, hear me as I pray,” he whispered. “Don’t hide Yourself from my plea. Please answer my prayers. Trouble is all around me because of a grudge held against me for sins I committed long ago. My heart is anguished.” Closing his eyes, he gripped the crown tightly. “God, I’m terrified of death. Mine and all those I love. I’m shaking like a boy untried by battle. I wish I had wings like a dove so I could escape.” He swallowed. “Confuse Ahithophel’s tongue. All these years I thought he was my friend, and he’s been plotting against me.” He wept as he raked one hand back through his hair, dangling the crown in his other hand. “Ahithophel. My friend. My companion all these years. We had sweet fellowship together during those years in the wilderness.”

He ground his teeth, running his hand around the back of his neck. “All these years his words have been as smooth as butter, and war has been in his heart. He talked of peace with a drawn sword behind his back. He has fanned my son’s ambitions and set him against me.” He shook as rage heated his blood. “Send them into the pit of destruction, Lord! Let him go down alive into Sheol!”

David let out his breath slowly, striving for control of his emotions. He must be calm to give the people courage. He must think. He must act wisely.
What a fool I’ve been, allowing myself to become soft and letting others run the kingdom!
He turned the crown slowly in his hands and placed it back on his head, then rubbed his face, feeling the dust and grit of travel rubbing his skin.
Oh, God, I never asked to be king.
He would have been happier as a shepherd, singing psalms and looking at the stars in the heavens. He would have been happier as a poor man with only one wife.