Unspoken (15 page)

Every time David added another wife or concubine to his harem, the hurt would rise in her again. But she learned not to expect perfect love from David, for to have those expectations increased her suffering. She refused to give in to the emotions tearing at her heart and remembered the source of love. She turned her attention from David’s wandering eye to God and His faithfulness to His people. Her husband could still arouse her physical passion, and she could still feel suffering, betrayal, confusion, and loneliness. But she was no longer in despair, no longer without hope. The Lord God of Israel taught her about love, faithfulness, forgiveness, provision, protection, peace, and compassion. Every time David wounded her, she turned to God for healing and comfort. And the Lord was always there. For His love
was
perfect.

“The Lord is our shepherd,” she whispered to Solomon. “We have everything we need. He lets us rest in green meadows; He leads us beside peaceful streams. He renews our strength. Oh, may He guide us along right paths, bringing honor to His name. Even when we walk through the dark valley of death, we will not be afraid, for God will be close beside us. His rod and staff will protect us and we will be comforted by His presence. The Lord will prepare a feast for us in the presence of our enemies. He will welcome us as His guests, anointing our heads with oil. Our cup overflows with blessings.” She kissed Solomon. “Surely God’s goodness and unfailing love will pursue us all the days of our lives if we give ourselves wholeheartedly to Him. And we will live in the house of the Lord forever.”

David summoned her more often than any of his other wives or concubines. Each time he professed his love for her, she knew he spoke from his heart. She knew also that his deepest desire was to please God and walk in all His ways, and she knew how often he failed and grew depressed. Was it any different for her? The more she tried to live a perfect life for God, the more she recognized her failings. Why else were the sacrificial fires burning from morning till night?

She rested in her husband’s arms during one of the evenings she was privileged to spend with him and listened to him. “I wonder what God would’ve done to help us if I’d poured my heart out to Him that day on the wall? What would He have done if I had prayed to Him when I saw you bathing, rather than taking matters into my own hands?” He combed his fingers through her hair.

She closed her eyes. Considering how greatly God had blessed her despite her grievous sin, she couldn’t imagine what His plan might have been had she been faithful and obedient. What if David had never seen her bathing? What if he’d never called for her and she’d remained faithful to Uriah? Yet having experienced God’s discipline, she knew she had gained a life-changing understanding of redemption and restoration. She now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how great were God’s mercy and lovingkindness, and for that she was oh so thankful. The sweet incense of faith was released when her life and will were crushed.

Lord, I thought I could live my life and be happy without You. I was wrong, so terribly wrong. Forgive me.

And God did.

Everyone knew David loved her, for he treated her with the honor of a first wife. He didn’t seem to notice or care about the problems his partiality caused inside the palace. Men and women alike feared Bathsheba’s influence and vied for David’s attention. David was proud of all his sons, especially Absalom, but the king seemed to have a special affinity for Solomon, who shared his intense love for God. And Bathsheba knew that affinity was a danger. She remained watchful.

God’s blessings continued to rain down on Bathsheba, and she bore David a third son, Shimea; a fourth, Shobab; and a fifth, Nathan. David’s other wives treated her with grudging honor, for no one wanted to share the same fate as Michal, David’s first wife, who was cloistered and given charge over her brother’s children, doomed never to have children of her own.

Yet, some of the women found their own revenge. Ahinoam and Maacah planted seeds of suspicion and dissension in their sons. They nurtured the young men’s pride and arrogance. They fanned the fires of their ambition, and they failed to instruct their sons in the Law.

Of all those around her, there were only a select few Bathsheba trusted: David, Abigail, her handmaiden, and the prophet Nathan, after whom she had named her fifth son. The prophet had become her friend as well as her counselor.

Caught up in the duties of raising four sons, she had no time for hollow flattery and less time to worry over the manipulations of the other women in the palace. Or of the antics of David’s other offspring. Her duty was clear: to raise up her sons to be men of God. She had no power over David and what he did, and she grieved when she saw him shirk his kingly responsibilities. Each year, he seemed to delegate more of his duties to others: her grandfather, Ahithophel; his commander, Joab; his eldest sons, Amnon and Absalom. He spent more and more time writing beautiful songs of praise and worship, pouring his heart out before the Lord, and making plans to build a magnificent temple for the Lord. She knew all these things were good, but what of Israel? What of the people who needed him? What of those who looked to him to lead?

David failed to see the gathering storm.

The prophet Nathan had told her of the cursing to come. She took the word of the Lord to heart and was watchful of what was happening around her. One sin set others in motion. The first stone had tumbled years ago, and an avalanche was coming. She kept her sons close—teaching them about God as she walked with them, teaching them as she sat with them. She tucked them into bed with stories of Creation, the Flood, the patriarchs, the Egyptian enslavement and God’s deliverance from it. “Remember the Lord” was her litany.

She knew her sons would face the brunt of the prejudice against her. When they asked painful questions, she answered with the devastating truth. “Yes, your father and I committed adultery. Yes, men died because of me.” She had compromised once; she couldn’t afford to compromise again. She took every opportunity to speak to her sons of repentance and responsibility, of consequences set in motion when one gives in to sin, of the power of the Lord to uphold the righteous. And she told them of the Lord’s great mercy and lovingkindness toward her.

“Whenever you sin—for sin you will—you must repent. You must turn your back on evil and seek God’s face. If you do that, God will forgive you.”

“And God will make it right,” Solomon said.

She smiled sadly. “He will forgive you, but he won’t remove the consequences.”

“Why not?”

“We must learn to obey.”

When Nathan sent word that he wanted to instruct her sons in the Law of the Lord, she seized the opportunity with thanksgiving and sent them off with instructions: “Listen with your hearts, my sons.” Once again, God had reached down. And this time He was lifting her sons from a palace of intrigue and setting them down beside His chosen prophet.

Shouting and screaming reverberated throughout the palace as news spread that Amnon, David’s eldest son and heir to the throne, had raped his half sister, Tamar. David tore his robe, for he realized he’d believed the tale his son had concocted to gain permission for the girl to attend him in his private chamber. David had sent Tamar to Amnon, never suspecting the young man had improper intentions toward her.

Now Maacah, Tamar’s mother, was screaming at him for justice, demanding that Amnon be punished for his crime. How could David agree, when the punishment for rape was death? Could he execute his own son, his heir? When Tamar had cried out in the streets, her brother Absalom had silenced her.

David reminded Maacah of that now. “Woman, if Absalom isn’t demanding his brother’s blood, why should you? He’s taken our daughter into his house and told her to say no more of the matter.”

“He’s waiting for you to do something!”

“And would you be so quick to demand justice if it were your son who sinned?”

“My son would never take a woman in sin!” Maacah wept hysterically. “This is your fault! It started with your taking that woman!” She could not be silenced. “Your brother’s son Jonadab suggested the plan to Amnon, and
you sent my daughter
to Amnon! You sent her, and now she’s ruined! What will become of Tamar now? Amnon’s sin is on
your
head!”

David wept because he knew she was right.

Those who wanted David to prosper advised him to follow the Law, but David didn’t listen.

“How can you ask me to stone my own son? Did I not sin when I took Bathsheba into the palace? Did I not sin when I murdered Uriah? God showed mercy upon me!”

“You repented, my lord the king. Amnon—”

“How can I show less mercy to Amnon, my own flesh and blood?”

“My lord the king . . .”

“I will not pass judgment upon another, when I myself have sinned so grievously. I forgive him and demand that you do likewise!”

Bathsheba covered her face and wept in the privacy of her chamber.

What could a son learn from a father who stole another man’s wife and murdered her husband—what else but to believe he could do as he pleased? He had learned to take what he wanted when he wanted it, without counting the cost to anyone.

Oh, God, thus does my sin come to rest again upon me! If not for Your love and mercy, how could I bear to stand and witness what my sins have caused?

Bathsheba mourned for Tamar. She mourned for Maacah, who was inconsolable and embittered. She mourned for Amnon because she knew God would judge him for what he had done. And in the midst of her grief, she felt the accusing glances, heard the whispers. She knew what people were thinking.
What you did all those years ago is the cause of our misery now!

Absalom’s silence made her tremble, for he was no less arrogant than Amnon. In fact, he was even more proud. He’d been praised for his looks and petted since he was a little boy. The older he grew, the more he strutted like a peacock. Would a man like that forgive the rape of his beautiful sister?

Solomon noticed her distress. “What do you fear, Mother?”

“I fear what happens when sin is overlooked.”
When the sentence for an evil deed isn’t executed quickly, the hearts of men are given fully to evil.

Months passed, and nothing happened. David considered the matter resolved and never spoke of it. Bathsheba continued to watch. She hoped David was right, but she continued to do all she could to guard her sons from corruption.

A year passed, and another, as the weeds grew taller among the wheat.

“Absalom invited me to his sheepshearing,” David told Bathsheba one evening as they took supper alone together. “He’s invited all his brothers.”

Though alarmed, she kept silent about her misgivings. Absalom had not invited
her
four sons, but she was relieved he hadn’t. Absalom hated her because David preferred her over his mother. And he saw her sons as a threat, even though he was next in line as heir to the throne after Amnon.

She poured more wine. “Are you going?”

He shook his head, caressing her fingers as he took the cup. “I’d rather stay here. Besides, why should I burden Absalom with the cost of my retinue? It’s better for him if I remain in the palace. The young men will have their fun without me. Amnon will be going as my representative.”

She shuddered. “I’m glad my sons won’t be going.”

“Why aren’t they?”

“They weren’t invited.”

David frowned and thought for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Perhaps Absalom didn’t think they’d be interested in such festivities, since they spend so much time with Nathan.”