A Lineage of Grace

by Francine Rivers

  Seventy thousand people died because David had counted his men and gloried in their numbers. Then the Lord relented and said, “Stop! That is enough!” David saw God’s death angel sheathe his sword on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite, and he shook in awe. David bought Araunah’s threshing floor and oxen and built an altar there, presenting burnt offerings and communion sacrifices to the Lord, who had stopped the destruction of Israel.

  One day the Temple would stand on the same spot.

  * * *

  Bathsheba watched her beloved husband growing older. His hair was gray, the lines deepening in his still handsome face. His shoulders drooped as though the weight of Israel were on his shoulders. He walked more slowly through the corridors of his palace, and he seldom visited his concubines. His wives continued to come to him with their complaints, pressing their sons forward for his notice until David allowed some to assume duties.

  On occasion, David would come to Bathsheba’s quarters and spend an afternoon with her. “I was once as swift as an eagle, but now my legs weigh like tree trunks, keeping me planted firmly on the ground.”

  She smiled up at him as she rubbed his feet. “We’re all getting older, my love.” When he shivered, she put a blanket around his shoulders.

  He took her hand and kissed it. “You’re as beautiful to me now as you were as a young woman.”

  “And you’re as charming as ever.” She rose and kissed him with the affection of a couple that had weathered many storms over the decades. “You’re still shivering.”

  “The hot blood of my youth has grown cold.”

  “I don’t love you any less.”

  “My servants have found a way to keep me warm.”

  She smiled wryly. “So I heard.” They’d scoured the land to find the most beautiful young virgin to sleep with him. “Did you plant the idea in their heads, you old rogue?”

  “Abishag is beautiful to behold, but that’s all I do—look. I’m past all the rest.”

  “If I could’ve held you to me alone, I would have.”

  “And if I’d been wiser at a younger age . . .” He sighed. “If, if . . .” He shook his head. “I knew the Law as well as any man could. I daresay that even if we had the Law written upon our hearts, we would still be incapable of staying out of trouble.”

  “You have always been a man after God’s own heart.”

  “I’m beset by failure on every side. An adulterer, a murderer, a—”

  She put her fingers over his lips. “God loves you because you repented every time you realized you’d sinned. You grieved. You tried to do right. God knows you are only a man, my love.”

  “A man who has hurt everyone he loves and cost the lives of countless thousands.” He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “Why did God do it? Of all the men in Israel, why did God choose me to be king?”

  She knelt in front of him and rested her head in his lap. She smiled and closed her eyes as he combed his fingers through her hair. “Because you’re the only man who would ask that question.”

  * * *

  Bathsheba knew that Haggith was encouraging her son, Adonijah, to claim his rights as the next heir, for he had been born next after Absalom. When Adonijah procured chariots and horses and recruited fifty men to run in front of him, behaving before all Israel as though he were already king, just as Absalom had done all those years before, she became afraid. Was another rebellion brewing?

  David said nothing about Adonijah’s activities, and Bathsheba held her tongue. But she wondered. Had David forgotten his promise to make Solomon king? If Adonijah became king, she and her sons would die the day David did, for Adonijah was as arrogant as Absalom had been in his public posturing. When she heard from her sons that Adonijah had parlayed with Joab and Abiathar the priest and that they were lending him their support, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he proclaimed himself king and had the backing to uphold his claim.

  She took her fear of the future before the Lord. She fasted and prayed, and waited for Him to answer.

  Adonijah went to the sacrificial feast of sheep, oxen, and fattened calves near En-rogel. He invited all of David’s sons to go with him—all but Solomon and his brothers, the prophet Nathan, the priest Benaiah, and the warriors who remained loyal to the king.

  Bathsheba knew war was again at hand. Perhaps this was God’s final judgment upon her and David for their sins.

  Nathan came to her, grim of countenance, his eyes fierce and alive in his ancient face. “Did you realize that Haggith’s son, Adonijah, has made himself king and that our lord David doesn’t even know about it?”

  “I’ve been praying.”

  “If you want to save your own life and the life of your son Solomon, follow my counsel. Go at once to King David and say to him, ‘My lord, didn’t you promise me that my son Solomon would be the next king and would sit upon your throne? Then why has Adonijah become king?’ And while you are still talking with him, I will come and confirm everything you have said.”

  “I will do it,” she said, trembling at what might happen if David had forgotten his promise. Would he think she was just like all the other women in his life, scrambling for power for her sons? Yet, what choice had she? Power in the wrong hands would bring death to her entire family.

  She prayed feverishly as she hurried along the corridor to the king’s chambers. “I must speak with the king on a matter of great importance,” she told his guard. He bowed his head to her and went to seek the permission of the king, returning soon after and opening the door for her.

  As Bathsheba entered, she saw the beautiful Shunammite girl, Abishag, serving the king his morning meal. The girl looked up, her lovely face lighting with a sweet smile, inclining her head in respectful greeting. Bathsheba had liked her from their first meeting. Abishag had been a shepherdess over her father’s flock before she’d been brought to Jerusalem to serve the king. The loving young Shunammite had many things in common with the old king, especially her faith.

  Bathsheba went down on her knees, bowing her face to the ground before her husband, the king.

  David roused himself. “What can I do for you, Bathsheba?”

  Her heart thundered as she prayed, Oh, Lord, don’t let David see me as he does the others. She lifted her head and trembled as she spoke. “My lord, you vowed to me by the Lord your God that my son Solomon would be the next king and would sit on your throne. But instead, Adonijah has become the new king, and you do not even know about it. He has sacrificed many oxen, fattened calves, and sheep, and he has invited all your sons and Abiathar the priest and Joab, the commander of the army.”

  David sat up, his eyes suddenly fierce.

  “But he did not invite your servant Solomon. And now, my lord the king, all Israel is waiting for your decision as to who will become king after you. If you do not act, my son Solomon and I will be treated as criminals as soon as you are dead.”

  “My lord the king,” the guard said from the doorway, “Nathan the prophet is here to see you. He said it is a matter of gravest import.”

  “Let him enter!” David said, breathing heavily, his face tense and red. He waved Abishag away impatiently. “Go, Bathsheba. Leave me!”

  Striving to control her emotions, she hurried out of his chamber. She paced and prayed while she waited outside. Oh, Lord of mercy, let him heed Your prophet. She clenched her hands and stood, eyes closed. Oh, God, move David’s heart to remember his promise. I know I’m unworthy. I know I’m unworthy, but please save my sons. Set Your servant Solomon upon the throne.

  “Call Bathsheba!” David roared, and her heart stopped. It began pounding hard and fast as she hastened toward the door.

  The guard opened it for her. “I am here, my lord the king.”

  David was standing. “As surely as the Lord lives, who has rescued me from every danger, today I decree that your son Solomon will be the next king and will sit on my throne, just as I swore to you before the Lord, the God of Israel.”

&n
bsp; Bathsheba dropped to her knees and bowed her face to the ground, weeping as she spoke from her heart. “May my lord King David live forever!”

  David called for Zadok the priest, Benaiah, and Nathan the prophet, and gave them instructions. “Take Solomon and my officers down to Gihon Spring. Solomon is to ride on my personal mule. There Zadok the priest and Nathan the prophet are to anoint him king over Israel. Then blow the trumpets and shout, ‘Long live King Solomon!’ When you bring him back here, he will sit on my throne. He will succeed me as king, for I have appointed him to be ruler over Israel and Judah.”

  “Amen!” the priests said, their eyes glowing as they glanced at one another.

  The old lion had finally awakened.

  * * *

  Bathsheba’s heart was in her throat as she stood with members of David’s household and watched Zadok take the horn of oil from the sacred tent, anointing her son king. David was smiling, two men giving him support while Abishag stood nearby.

  As Nathan turned toward him, David removed his crown and held it out. “Give it to Bathsheba.”

  The old prophet’s eyes lit up. As he handed the crown to Bathsheba, her eyes welled with tears at being honored so before the people. David smiled and inclined his head toward her. She smiled back, turned, and placed the crown on their son’s head.

  The people shouted joyfully, “Long live King Solomon!” Over and over again, they cried out their blessings. Some played flutes. Thousands danced in the streets and sang, making such revelry the earth shook with their jubilee.

  Bathsheba laughed and cried, her heart so full she felt it would burst. She looked from David to her son. The anointing oil dripped down Solomon’s face into his beard. “Beloved of the Lord!” Who would have ever thought her son would be king over Israel! Oh, Lord God of Israel, merciful redeemer, lifter of my soul, look what You have done for me! Look what You have done! She put her hands over her heart and bowed low.

  When Solomon was seated on the royal throne, David, near exhaustion, bowed down to him. “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who today has chosen someone to sit on my throne while I am still alive to see it.”

  A messenger came, informing David that Adonijah’s guests had fled when they heard the people celebrating Solomon’s coronation. Now, out of fear for their lives, all were clamoring to be first to sing Solomon’s praises and bow down before him. David rose. When Bathsheba started to rise, he shook his head. “Enjoy this day, my love. See what God has done.” He was assisted from the room by two male attendants, with Abishag following.

  Another messenger came, throwing himself on his face before Solomon. “My lord the king!”

  “Rise, and speak your message.”

  “Adonijah is afraid of you and has fled to the sacred tent for protection. He said, ‘Let Solomon swear today that he will not kill me!’”

  Bathsheba held her breath as she saw Solomon’s eyes darken and his hands tighten on the arms of the throne. “If he proves himself to be loyal, he will not be harmed. But if he does not, he will die.” She breathed easier as her son sent guards to get his brother and bring him to the throne room.

  The elder brother bowed to her son, but he didn’t throw himself on the floor as others had done before him. He inclined his head, but did not bend his back. Her son watched Adonijah closely, his eyes narrowed. “Go on home, Adonijah. Go and remember my warning.”

  There was a hushed silence as Adonijah turned and walked out of the throne room. Bathsheba knew there would be trouble ahead if a way to peace between the brothers could not be found.

  * * *

  As Solomon took over the responsibilities of kingship, David’s health declined. Bathsheba came each morning to sit with him, but it was Abishag who was in constant attendance, seeing to his most basic needs.

  Bathsheba’s heart ached as she watched the man she loved slip away. She knew it was close to the end when he summoned Solomon from his duties. The king brought his brothers Shobab, Shimea, and Nathan with him.

  Solomon bowed down before his father. David put his hand on his son’s head. “My son,” he rasped, tears in his eyes. “Sit and we will talk as we used to.” He smiled at the four men surrounding him.

  Reaching out, David took Bathsheba’s hand. “I am going where everyone on earth must someday go.”

  Solomon and his brothers began to weep.

  “Take courage,” David said, directing his words to Solomon, “and be a man. Observe the requirements of the Lord your God and follow all His ways. Keep each of the laws, commands, regulations, and stipulations written in the Law of Moses so that you will be successful in all you do and wherever you go. If you do this, then the Lord will keep the promise He made to me: ‘If your descendants live as they should and follow Me faithfully with all their heart and soul, one of them will always sit on the throne of Israel.’”

  Bathsheba closed her eyes, her throat constricting as she heard the encroaching weakness in David’s voice. She was losing him. After all these years, he was leaving her.

  David took his hand from hers and stirred on his couch, restless, hurried. “And there is something else. You know that Joab son of Zeruiah murdered my two army commanders, Abner son of Ner and Amasa son of Jether. He pretended that it was an act of war, but it was done in a time of peace, staining his belt and sandals with the blood of war. Do with him what you think best, but don’t let him die in peace!”

  “Yes, Abba.”

  “Be kind to the sons of Barzillai. . . .”

  “Yes, Abba.”

  “And remember Shimei son of Gera, the man from Bahurim in Benjamin. He cursed me with a terrible curse as I was fleeing to Mahanaim. When he came down to meet me at the Jordan River, I swore by the Lord that I would not kill him. But that oath does not make him innocent. You are a wise man, and you will know how to arrange a bloody death for him.”

  Bathsheba shuddered, but she said nothing as David sank back, breathing heavily. Turning his head, he looked at her, pain etching his face. “Ah, my love,” he said softly. His breath came out in one long, deep sigh of peace and his body relaxed.

  Bathsheba rocked back and forth, her anguish so deep, the tears gathered like a hot stone in her chest. When Abishag leaned forward and gently ran her hand down David’s face, closing his eyes, Bathsheba’s grief broke free. Keening, she ripped the neckline of her dress and pressed her hands over her chest, feeling as though her heart had been torn from her. “David! Daaaa . . . vid!”

  Her sons rose and surrounded her like sentinels. And King Solomon’s hand was gentle upon her shoulder.

  * * *

  David was buried with great ceremony in the city named after him. As the people mourned him, Bathsheba prayed they would remember the good he had done for them and the heart he had for God rather than the mistakes he had made.

  Solomon sat easily upon the throne, his mind trained in administration by Nathan and the priests. But his throne was not yet secure. Enemies were gathering.

  One afternoon, Adonijah came to see her. “My mother sends you greetings,” he said, bowing to her for the first time she could remember.

  Haggith had always been as ambitious for her sons as Maacah. “Have you come to make trouble?” Should she remind him to heed the warning Solomon had given for his own sake? or hear him out to know better what was going on in his mind?

  “No,” he said quickly. “I come in peace. In fact, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  A favor? She tilted her head. “What is it?” she said cautiously.

  “As you know, the kingdom was mine.”

  She stiffened, her heart thumping. Did he mean to remind her that he had been next in line after Absalom? Or was he referring to his rebellion? He had managed to gain the backing of powerful men in the kingdom, men who had encouraged him to declare himself king. They’d all mistakenly thought David too tired and ill to notice. And even if the king did know, they figured he would not be able to muster enough strength to stop the rebellion.

&n
bsp; Adonijah spread his hands as though to show he had no weapons. “Everyone expected me to be the next king. But the tables were turned, and everything went to my brother instead; for that is the way the Lord wanted it.”

  She watched his face for some sign of subterfuge, but he seemed to accept David’s wishes. The Lord wanted it. The Lord had chosen Solomon to reign—Solomon, her son. I am still amazed, Lord, amazed that You would choose the son of an adulterous woman. . . .

  “So now,” Adonijah said, drawing her attention back to him, “I have just one favor to ask of you. Please don’t turn me down.”

  “What is it?”

  He stepped closer and went down on one knee, his face taut, his eyes dark. “Speak to King Solomon on my behalf, for I know he will do anything you request. Ask him to give me Abishag, the girl from Shunem, as my wife.”

  Abishag! She searched his face and thought the emotions she saw there must be love, for she could feel his intensity and could see his hunger.

  Oh, Lord, is this the way to bring peace between brothers? If Solomon gives his brother Abishag, will there be peace between them? Will that tender girl soften this man’s heart? Oh, let it be so!

  “All right,” she said slowly and saw his eyes catch fire. “I will speak to the king for you.”

  Adonijah said not another word, but when he rose, his lips curved in a strange smile of triumph.

  * * *

  Bathsheba dressed in her finest attire before going to her son, the king. She waited while he was told she requested an audience with him. When she was admitted, Solomon rose from his throne and came down the dais to her. She blushed as he bowed down before her, his entire court watching him. Smiling, he took her hand and led her up the steps with him. “Bring another throne for my mother,” he commanded.

  “You show me too much honor, my son,” she whispered as a second throne was set to the right of his.

  “The people must understand my respect for you.” He smiled as he seated her first. “Does the Law not say, ‘Honor your father and mother’?”

  Tongues would never be silenced where she was concerned, and she would not be able to protect him against the prejudice held against her. Hadn’t her sons been scorned and excluded over the years? It would be best if she went into seclusion. Perhaps if she was not seen, she would be forgotten, and the stains of her sin would not seep into Solomon’s reign. “I hold no grudges, my son.”