Hope in the Heartland

Enemy on a silver platter

By LARRY TIMM

Gracepoint Church, Peabody

David clutched the smooth fabric as he retreated to the farthest corner of the cave. He had spared the king’s life, so why was guilt nibbling at the edges of his conscience? This was just between King Saul and him, wasn’t it? Or was someone else involved in this?

Crouching in the deepest recesses of the cave, David strained to see the piece of fabric he had severed from the king’s robe while the king slept near the entrance to the cave.

Muffled whispers of disappointment rose from the men hiding with him, but the voice from his conscience coated his heart with regret.

He looked at the faces of his fellow fugitives.

A small group of them had withdrawn their knives and was glaring toward where the king slept — the place they obviously still intended would be the spot where he died.

“I was wrong to do even this,” he said as he held the piece of the king’s robe up for them to see. “I have no right to stretch my hand out against the man that God chose to be king.”

As David spoke on Saul’s behalf, the king stirred, finally rising to his feet.

He put his robe on and walked out of the cave.

David stood, still holding the piece of the king’s robe, and hustled to the mouth of the cave.

“My king!” he yelled.

King Saul stopped and turned on his heels. The two men locked eyes.

This is part of a series of columns based on I Samuel 24.