CHAPTER FIFTEEN: IT REEKS! BITTERNESS IS NOT SWEET!

From my book Like a Sweet Fragrance

I didn’t pay $300 to spend 30 minutes of a six-hour class listening to the reasons why other people were taking the class. Those were my thoughts at the beginning of an early Saturday morning workshop at Rice University when the instructor asked us to form small groups and share the reasons we enrolled in a class on writing the novel. Irritated, I didn’t feel like sharing, and I certainly didn’t appreciate her wasting my time or my money. And for crying out loud, it’s all about me, right?

From their peevish expressions, other people felt as I did for this introductory activity was an over used practice and the want-to-be writers in the room were annoyed. Like me. We soon discovered, however, that the instructor wanted us aggravated. That was her point, and we didn’t disappoint!

Disregarding the unpleasant body language of her cranky audience, our teacher instructed us to pay attention to how we reacted to the other people in our group while they were introducing themselves. In particular, we were to single out one specific person who irritated us, however subtly, and write our reactions in our notebook. We were to note mannerisms, voice, expressions -- whatever it was that was bothering us -- and write it all down as honestly as possible.

In less than ten seconds, I shifted my irritation from the she’s-wasting-my-time instructor to annoyance at the she’s-getting-on-my-nerves writer who had the dreadful luck of landing in my group. This woman was simply breathing; but, as my husband will tell you, simply breathing is sometimes enough to irritate me. At this point I knew I was in trouble for it was only 9:00 in the morning, so I started asking God’s forgiveness. Begging, really.

Completely unaware that she was bothering me, this immaculately-groomed, petite raven-haired woman with coral fingertips, orange lipstick, and a high-pitched voice dominated the activity, chattering incessantly, asking questions, and rephrasing the answers; in other words, she was enthusiastically participating in the exercise. And I didn’t want to. She was my victim simply because she was enjoying this assignment, so I began to write.

And as I wrote, I felt a brief twinge for I knew I had no business judging this woman; but the assignment was to react, and I was reacting.

During the activity I was careful not to look at my target any more than I was looking at anyone else. I didn’t want her to know I was writing about her because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But out of my peripheral vision, I began to notice a shift in her demeanor, first subtle, then more overt, as I realized she was actually glaring at me. She’d scribble a few lines, smile and laugh at the people around her, then glare some more at me! And repeat the process: scribble, smile, laugh, and glare. And she wasn’t trying to hide it either! In fact, it’s fair to say that I was irritating her a whole lot more than she was upsetting me!

“Man, this stinks!” I wrote. “I’m really bugging that lady. She’s writing like crazy. I think she’s going to break her pencil! I wonder what I did that set her off. What is she writing about? My Saturday-morning, unwashed hair? The roll around my middle? A black hair on my chin?” As I continued writing the most paranoid stream-of-consciousness dialogue, I pondered what I possibly could have done to be the target of her fury for by now she looked downright mad! On and on I droned, growing more delusional by the second, until finally this long, arduous, excruciating activity was over.

Looking back at what I wrote, I realized that if I was writing a novel, this would be one crazy, insecure, and paranoid character who could lose ten pounds, needed a dye job, and was overdue for laser hair removal and who, above, all, was ready to fight a black-haired woman with orange fingertips and an obnoxiously shrill voice! Yes, it was most definitely all about me!

And yes, the teacher knew exactly what she was doing for this exasperating activity was her creative, quite ingenious method of introducing us to the art of characterization, the class I most definitely had signed up for. She was the victor; we were her victims. But a lesson was learned.

Later as I read over my crazed, maniacal notes, I realized that both of us -- the orange finger-tipped lady and me -- were innocent. Neither of us did anything intentionally to bother the other. Our judgmental attitudes and petulant dispositions were wrong, but all we did, by merely existing, was simply irritate each other. And to be honest, we were annoyed before we even started writing!

God’s chosen monarch, David, irritated many people, and when aggravations are left unchecked, they can morph into more volatile feelings of extreme dislike and even hatred, which is what happened with King Saul and then later with Saul’s daughter Michal, David’s first wife.

 A princess in love with the man of her dreams, Michal, once upon a time, lived a fairy tale romance for David was the handsome, popular hero of all times who had killed Goliath, been anointed as the future king, fought the country’s enemies, and was beloved by all the people. Well, almost.

Unfortunately, Saul was a deceitful, paranoid, jealous, maniacal, and manipulative man who wasn’t simply irritated by David, but feared and despised him as well, and had one goal: to stay king. Hearing of his daughter’s love for David, Saul “rubbed his hands in anticipation” and decided to use “Michal as bait” (1 Samuel 18:20 MSG) to position David where the Philistines, the country’s formidable foe, will kill him. Then Saul can live happily ever after in his own fairy tale, without worrying about David usurping his throne. So Saul makes a deal with David; if he fights the Philistines, he can marry Michal.

But there was one painful catch. David must return from battle with proof of his victory, proof in the form of 100 Philistine foreskins! Of course, Saul never expected to see 100 Philistine foreskins for he wrongly assumed the Philistines would kill David; but David rightly assumed God wasn’t going to let that happen. David didn’t live a life afraid of challenges, so off he goes to battle, only to return victoriously with not only the 100 required Philistine foreskins, but 200 of them -- to place it safe, I guess!

But seriously, what’s with all those foreskins? Some Indian tribes scalped; Saul demanded foreskins? Do we want to image what that battle scene looked like? And what’s Saul going to do with 200 Philistine foreskins now that he has them? As Bishop Dan Morse explains, “Saul really didn't want them in the first place, and certainly didn't expect David to be successful. But once David exposed Saul’s stupidity by actually giving them to him, he was the one who had to decide what to do with 200 Philistine foreskins. The whole thing is a joke, and the joke was on Saul.”

Joke or not, two hundred foreskins later, David becomes the king’s son-in-law, Michal has her handsome hero husband, and Saul continues to live with the fearful nightmare of losing the kingship, more jealous than ever and still committed to killing David even though he’s innocent and has done nothing wrong.

From David’s story we see that our innocence does not keep the enemy away. And innocent or not, we also have vicious enemies, enemies who thankfully don’t demand foreskins, but relentlessly demand our peace. Persistent enemies who attempt to distract us from focusing on God. Enemies like jealousy and unforgiveness and bitterness, equally as tenacious as King Saul.

David had been anointed as the future king; however, his circumstances contradicted his calling.

So how did a warrior as victorious as David fight not only Saul, but also bitterness for David certainly was a target for its deadly aim as well? And how can we have that same victory over bitterness for it’s a relentless enemy who won’t leave us alone, a tenacious enemy who wakes us up and haunts our sleep, and a deadly enemy who is determined to destroy us? Whether we’ve been hurt by another person or hurt by an experience,  bitterness is the result of our hurt, resentment, and anger crushed together and poured out on ourselves, others, and even on those we love. Bitterness reeks! It’s is a personal enemy which can leave behind the stench of a wasted life. What can we learn from David’s life to help us fight a destructive enemy like bitterness?

Slayer of a giant, David fought by keeping his eyes firmly fixed on God; while his enemy watched him, David watched God.  Not just once, but in countless incidents recalled throughout the psalms. A friend of mine once pointed out that there was only one letter difference in bitter and better. When our eyes are on Jesus, bitterness doesn’t consume our sight. An innocent victim, David easily could have become bitter, yet he wasn’t a victim, but a victorious example of what God can do when life doesn’t turn out the way we wished it would. As long as his eyes were fixed on God.

Even though David stayed focused on God, however, Saul still continued to try to kill him, providing a deadly distraction in the life of Israel’s future king.

I can be distracted by anything – the smacking of gum, banging of a keyboard, humming of the air conditioner, or even the buzzing in my ears. Sometimes when I’m writing, I’m even distracted by my pen and I’ll start wondering if there is a perfect pen that glides better than the one I’m using. Life holds the potential to distract me to the point where I focus on the insignificant, and not on God.

Ian’s breathing can even distract me! In fact, sometimes Ian’s breathing distracts me more than ole’ Riley the dog’s breathing! Distractions can be ridiculous, yet severe; they can be irritating, yet dangerous. But all distractions distract us. That’s what they do.

A few hours after the wedding of my mother to my stepfather, my sister and I were waiting for the newly married couple to go on their honeymoon. Daddy Bill, as we grew to call him later, picked up their suitcases and prepared to walk out the door of my aunt’s house; instead, he walked into her kitchen pantry, shut the door behind him, and stayed there for what seemed to be an eternity! Of course, the hysterical hyena-style laughter of his new step daughters in the background might have contributed to what kept him in the food pantry. Daddy Bill was nervous and overwhelmed and absolutely distracted, and he chose to stay in that food closet instead of facing what was outside it. I really can’t say I blamed him for that. We were merciless.

I need to eliminate distractions before I can write or I can’t be still and concentrate and focus. Yet some distractions we can eliminate and some we can’t. So what do we do when we’re in a situation whose very nature tries to turn us from the direction God intends us to go? How do we deal with the reality of ongoing distractions as we pursue a godly life?

In the book of Hebrews, we find a scripture that David understood before the author of Hebrews wrote it down, a verse which gives us divine direction in the midst of all deadly distractions, even one as powerful as Saul:  “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2). As we “fix our eyes on Jesus,” we’ll stay focused on God’s truth. And that’s a weapon against any distraction that fights for our attention.

My husband likes a simple yes or no answer. He’ll ask me a question, and I’ll respond in a lengthy exposition, which he’ll counter by asking, “Was that yes or no?” I try to make the simple more complicated, but in the Bible, the answers aren’t complicated even though they require our concentration. And Scripture points out that focusing on God’s truth is a weapon against any unpleasant distraction that fights for our attention, a simple, yet mighty weapon which helps us live life as God intended.

And let’s face it; sometimes we need all the weapons we can get our hands on when life – like David’s – takes a different direction than we hoped. When we turn around and a relationship disintegrates or a job opportunity disappears or our health fails. And then we have to fight hard to avoid succumbing to resentment and rage and bitterness, but still they harass and pursue and torture us, begging for the attention that makes them thrive. Saul knew how to make David miserable. That’s what our enemies do.

Despite David’s challenging circumstances, however, Saul still “knew the LORD was with David” (1 Samuel 18:12), which is one of the reasons he was so bitterly jealous. God with David. God with me. God with all of us. Even the name of Christ -- Emmanuel, God with us -- serves as a reminder that as we fight, sometimes simply to survive, we’re not alone. And it also reminds us, quite possibly, that the enemy harasses because he’s jealous that God is with us, too. 

It’s been said that David fought giants because he prayed giant prayers, and since overwhelming circumstances didn’t stop when Old Testament times were over, “the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man” (James 5:16b KJV) continues to fight against any dangerous enemy especially a relentless one that doesn’t immediately disappear.

Writers write about what they know, and David penned Psalm 59, comparing the killers Saul sent after him to vicious, starving dogs howling to devour him. While David’s life story is found in the prose of First Samuel, his heart can be heard in the poetry of this psalm where he prays for protection, proclaiming his innocence and insisting he has “done no wrong” (Psalm 59:4).   

In Revelations 22:16, Jesus Christ said, “I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright and Morning Star.” How fascinating that the Savior of the World descended from the lineage of a man who repeatedly needed saving! In fact, every time David’s mouth opened, he seemed to yell, “Save me!” And not just save me, but have mercy and help me and deliver me. Undoubtedly, David prayed giant prayers, but he also threw his sling shot filled with tiny, urgent prayers toward God, too. The man known for having a heart like God (Acts 13:22) always seemed to need saving; it was a theme of his life!

For David, however, the reality of who God is did not change in any troublesome situation.

From experience, David grew to rely on God as his “refuge in times of trouble” (Psalm 59:16) even when it looked like he was all alone. And from David’s experience, we’re also reminded that God is the hero of this story and God doesn’t throw us out in the world without staying with us in the world. 

Ironically, the more determined Saul is about destroying David, the more all of Israel seems to love him, especially Michal who puts her own life in danger as she helps her husband escape “through a window” (1 Samuel 19:11-12) and was left to face the explosive wrath of her father for Saul was dangerous regardless of your last name.

Michal helped David survive at a time when life wasn’t treating him fairly. When her father wasn’t treating him fairly. When the situation wasn’t fair. When he was innocent and it looked like there was no escape.  

Barely weighing 70 pounds with a delicate, aristocratic face framed by perfectly coiffed grey hair, my 95-year-old Aunt Sarah was always dressed and ready for company.

Glasses perched on her nose, she was starched from head to toe. In fact, Aunt Sarah even starched her sheets! When she died this past spring, she was the last of an elegant generation of Finches on my dad’s side. Ian and I would stop and visit with her on our way to Dallas, but we didn’t drive up there very often. Once, her caregiver told us that every morning Aunt Sarah would wake up and dress and then wait for someone to come and visit. She’d sit in her chair and wait and wait and wait.

Most of her friends had died, her husband and child were dead, and very few people came to visit. The caregiver told us that Aunt Sarah never understood why people didn’t come. But still she waited and hoped they would.

We were visitors in Aunt Sarah’s life, but her caregiver of 20 years, Louise, was her family who helped her dress and get ready every day for all that life might bring.

I’ve prayed that God always bring forth the vision of Aunt Sarah – starched and waiting for company – whenever a relative or a friend or an acquaintance flashes through my mind, a reminder to make a call, say a prayer, or drop a note. A reminder that relationships are important. And a reminder that we may never know how important that phone call or prayer or note might be in helping someone else in God’s family get ready for all that life might bring.

Undoubtedly, David recognized that God provided Michal’s help at an important time in his life, but who helped Michal, whose world is also falling to pieces? After her fugitive husband escapes through her window, she disguises an idol to look like him, hoping to fool his pursuers, and then the Bible tells us nothing about her until David returns. Ten years later!

Was there anyone to help her deal with this unplanned, unexpected, and undesired disaster? Michal needed more than a pop-up greeting card that plays a sweet little tune. She needed more than platitudes and pat answers. She needed more than nice, well-meaning comments about how much stronger she’d be when it was over or how she’ll come out ahead or how it’s important to look on the bright side. Michal’s father is dangerous, her husband is gone, and she’s left behind. Her situation was unbelievably hard. It usually is for those left behind.

When the tears started to flow, who saw the pain and grief and anger and bitterness? When the tears washed away the princess-façade, who looked at her with compassion and love and grace? When the tears dried, who was there to help her pick up the pieces? To start again? To give her hope that she could survive?

We don’t hear about anyone; we just see her left behind with idols, disguised to look like David and fool his pursuers, in her bed. But as she’s watching David escape through that window, undoubtedly, God is watching her, too. For that’s what God does.

Looking at Michal through God’s window of compassion, I see a courageous young woman – yes, one who kept idols in her house, but a woman God loved as he loves us all. And at one time, however briefly, she lived with a man after God’s own heart. Surely his life, even without the victory of conquering Saul, left behind a sweet fragrance that beckoned her to the Father who would not treat her as her earthly father was doing. Who didn’t use her as a pawn in a dangerous game, but who cared about her. And who also knew those idols needed to go.   

Michal was important in the life of David for many reasons, one involved the political ramifications of marriage to the daughter of the king; however, she was also important because God placed her in David’s life at the right moment and in the right place to help her husband escape those trying to kill him. And her husband was the future king from whom the Savior of all the world would come, an important outcome for us all! I love how Michal helped David. I love how brave she was. I love how she loved her husband. But what I really love is that God loved Michal. God put her in the life of a man who was completely devoted to him. Even if he wasn’t perfect. God is visible to others through our relationship with him. We do not serve an invisible God.

Studying David, we see a heart which trusted God regardless of how many times he had to escape through a window. We see a warrior who eventually emerges stronger and more victorious regardless of the unfair battles he had to fight. And we see a man who was later strengthened by remembering all the victories he had won because of God. But what about Michal? The window David escapes through was fractured with the pain of Michal’s circumstances, and what is left is not a fragrance, but a fragment of her life. A crack that bitterness soon enters. This story is not moving toward a happily-ever-after ending.  

Maybe there was a time -- like Michal -- when you lost someone you loved and with that love, all your dreams for the future you wanted  disappeared; and you were bitterly disappointed. A time when you, too, were left behind.  Life, and Michal’s life is not the exception but the example, can be hard.

Yesterday was a near perfect day for me. I woke up early, wrote for hours, studied the Bible, listened to God, walked two miles, lunched with my husband, and gardened until it was time for a nap! It was a wonderful, enjoyable, lovely day. And then the world burst through my window.

Michal’s day might have gone like this:  I woke up married to the mightiest hero, the most handsome man in the whole world, the man who could make all my dreams come true, and then dad tried to kill him! The world definitely burst through Michal’s window and her life was never the same. A once romantic story crumbles in a brief period of time as tragedy walked through her life, leaving debris of heartbreak and bitterness in its wake.  No fairy tale ending here.

When she was six-years-old, my niece Mollie walked in the living room, rubbing her eyes and crying that there “were too tears!”  Taking the Johnson’s baby shampoo, she had rubbed a large portion in her eyes to see if there really were “no more tears.” In life, there “are too tears.” No doubt about it. Even David, a man whose life’s legacy continues to impact our world, makes that abundantly clear in the psalms where he cried an abundance of tears. Undoubtedly, in heaven one day, there will be no more tears.  No need for mammograms or colonoscopies or radiation! No need for Kleenex! No more uncertainty or desperation or fear. Bad things won’t happen to good people. In the meantime, we cry, and not always for joy. Like Michal.

And like Michal, the tears we shed leave a gaping hole waiting to be filled. I remember my dad driving to the gas station and calling out, “Fill ‘er up!” And then I’d get a whiff of gasoline as the teenage boy - I always hoped he would be a cute one - would start pumping gas to fill up the tank of our car. When King Saul filled ‘er up, we get a whiff of the stench of bitter jealousy; when David filled ‘er up, we get a whiff of the fragrance of God. But what about the young woman left behind with an empty heart and home? What happened to her? Was her heart ever full again? Did David eventually return home?

When David left Michal, he escaped with the shirt on his back, and he didn’t return for ten long years. Then when circumstances allowed him to return, he brought back more than a shirt; in fact, David returned with several other wives, women he married during the decade he spent away from Michal.

David is not our perfect bridegroom. And now he finds out that Saul has given his first wife in marriage to another man. And Michal finds herself, once more, a political pawn even though her father is dead. This time, it’s David who is calling the shots. This time, it’s David who is controlling her life, referring to the woman who once helped save his life as the one “whom I betrothed to myself for the price of a hundred Philistine foreskins” (2 Samuel 3:14).

Forced once again by circumstances beyond her control, Michal is separated from another husband as her story takes yet another tragic turn. And this time, it’s her husband, Paltiel, who is watching his wife depart. Obviously loving her, he is not content, however, only to watch, but follows her “weeping behind her all the way” (2 Samuel 3:16) as she is returned to David.  

Michal continues to live a life of countless circumstances over which she has no control.

And here we are right back with those Philistine foreskins! What a way to woo a wife back home! “Come on darlin’, come on back to me. I paid 200 Philistine foreskins for ya!” We are definitely out of our culture in this story, but “God’s Word does not change,” even though “God’s world, however, changes in every generation” (Gaebelein).

To Michal, however, the foreskins don’t seem to be the problem.

What is a problem, however, is what happened all those years they have been separated.  She has a husband, he has many wives, and even with different cultural rules, even with the acceptance and understanding of political marriages, a girl needs to know she matters.

Apparently she did matter to her present husband whose heartbreaking sobs echo behind her as he follows her back to the man who was, once upon a time, her great love. Does David want her back simply because she’s his wife? Or does he want her back because she’s the former king’s daughter? Is there a political struggle for power? The answers to those questions are yes, and for those reasons, and possibly others, David demanded her return. But was there another reason? The romantic side of me hopes that David was also crazy about her, that he appreciated her bravery and her help; but we don’t read that anywhere.

In fact, the only conversation we read between the husband and wife is later in the narrative after the ark of the LORD was victoriously returned to the City of David. Watching the victory parade from yet another window, Michal looks not with love, but with disdain as she sees King David, clad only in a linen ephod, “leaping and dancing before the LORD” and she despises “him in her heart” (2 Samuel 6:16).

When we were young girls, my sister and I stood on our daddy’s feet, and then he’d dance us around the room. He was a giant of a man or so it seemed to me, and dancing on my daddy’s toes is still a wonderful memory.  And I know it was extra special for him, too. He loved dancing with his daughters.

David heard the music, felt the Spirit, knew the reason, and had to celebrate. And I hope that regardless of David’s flaws, he wanted Michal -- wanted everyone -- to join in the dance.  

As Bishop Dan Morse explains:  “David was a lousy husband in some respects;” however, “he didn't dance stark raving naked in public, but without his royal robes. To Michal, for a king to humble himself in public before God and the people by shedding his royal vestments -- like a priest or bishop taking off beautiful vestments to wash someone's feet on Maundy Thursday -- was a thing her father, Saul, would never have done.”  

My mother-in-law’s view from a skilled nursing facility’s window is vastly different than our son’s view from a Jamaican resort on his wedding day. A friend’s view from a county jail cell is entirely different from a parishioner’s view out of a church’s stained glass window. Yet all have one thing in common: people look through them.  The perspective out of which we live our lives is framed by our experiences.

In Ephesians 1:18, Paul said:  “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you.”  We see with more than our eyes; we see with our heart, and Michal’s vision was clouded with the past, a past that would be difficult for most of us to deal with, but nevertheless a past that was now preventing her from seeing a hopeful future. Michal was looking at David with a bitter, burdened heart.    

When Ian and I first married, we lived in an old, run-down house on the outskirts of our small town. Even though the house wasn’t much to look at, we made it our home and were very happy there. Hurricane Allen, however, threatened to destroy our peaceful existence as it began its frightening descent on the Gulf of Mexico, so Ian bought some plywood and boarded up the windows to keep us safe. If anything, the boards made the place look better!

Thankfully, the hurricane didn’t do much damage, but unfortunately, the windows stayed boarded up for a long time. Ian thought it was funny and since we didn’t have much money, he liked that it helped our utility bill! The boarded-up windows became a joke, and my jolly husband threatened to leave them up until Christmas so he could decorate them. I finally prevailed, and he removed the boards.

I spent Saturday in the hospital room of Ian’s 88-year-old mother who fell and broke her pelvis last week. His mother is practically blind and the drugs are having a detrimental effect, confusing her abilities to understand where she is and what is going on and also changing her overall personality and perspective. Plus she’s in pain. And my husband is in pain, too, as he watches her. And I’m in pain, as well, as I watch him watch her.

The hurricane that began its frightening descent last week on our family threatens to wreck havoc on the life of my mother-in-law and also on the lives of all who love her, and boarding up the window of her hospital room won’t protect anyone from the damage.

The last thing I wanted to do this past weekend was watch my husband hurt. I can board up the windows of my soul faster than a hammer can drive a nail in a board. I can shut down my emotions quite quickly because I’d rather shut them down than hurt. Sometimes when I don’t cry, I’m in more pain than when I do.

But as I watched my husband watch his mom, God tore off another board on the window of my heart and showed me -- in that hospital room where I didn’t want to be -- a picture of his love. As I watched my sweet husband watch his beloved mother, I saw his heart ache with more than his own sadness and pain; instead, I saw a heart that desperately desired to help her, to make her situation better, and to take away her pain. I saw a man’s love not focused on his own heartache, but completely focused on how he could help the one he loved. In that hospital room, I saw the way God looks at us.

And even though Nana can’t see nor can she see with a clear perspective, others are watching out for her. She may be blind, but her son isn’t. Nor is God.

We can board up our windows at different times – not just during hurricanes or hospitals. We board them for protection, we board them because we’re afraid, and we board them because we don’t know what danger is out there. During Hurricane Allen, we boarded our windows because it was necessary; but when it became quite clear that it was time to take them down, we didn’t remove the boards for a long time.

Did Michal’s past keep her boarded up inside, refusing to join all the people in their celebrations? Did she still keep idols in her house? Did she love Paltel? I have so many questions!  What kept her inside the house, observing, instead of outside, participating? Resentment? Hurt? Bitterness? All cracks in the glass that don’t reflect God, but a tortured soul. Yet a soul God loved.

The picture of David’s wild dancing disgusted Michal, and that brief moment in time became the final frame of their life together, the final momentous event which symbolized the deterioration of her love. Michal’s view of David through that last window became more like a snapshot in a dusty picture frame, a frozen moment in time which continued to remind her of a painful part of her life over which she had no control. One moment. A moment that can happen to us, too. A moment which can frame our perspective for the rest of our life, preventing us from seeing anything else but that one hurt or heartache or loss. That one paralyzing snapshot captured in our mind of a time we can’t move past. That one moment, if we allow it, which defines the rest of our lives.  

The Michal in me stays inside and does not want to heal. The Michal in me misses life that beckons to be lived beyond the pain. And if I refuse to look past that one moment, the Michal in me is left behind, losing out on the opportunities God can bring my way for Christ came to give us life “more abundantly” (John 10:10 KJV), not just to help us exist.

Reading Michal’s story, I want her to discover that abundant life. I want her to get better and not stay bitter. I want her to have a happily-ever-after. I want her to experience victory over the devastation of crushed dreams. I once read a story about a little boy who went to a pet store, and when his dad asked him which dog he wanted, he pointed to the one that was wagging his tail and said:  “I want the one with the happy ending!” We all want a happy ending! I’m sure God wanted Michal to have a happy ending, too. He wants all of us to have a happy ending. He sent his Son for that purpose!

Could it be that one reason Michal is returned to David is to have the opportunity, once more, to live with a man passionate about God even if he doesn’t seem to be the greatest husband in the world? Our bridegroom, remember, will be perfect. David is not that bridegroom! God is love, so God loved Michal. Behind this difficult situation is still an opportunity for Michal, once more, to live with a man devoted to God even if that man is perfectly able to make mistakes.  

1 Chronicles 29:29 says, “As for the events of King David’s reign, from beginning to end, they are written in the records of Samuel the seer, the records of Nathan the prophet, and the records of Gad the seer, together with the details of his reign and power, and the circumstances that surrounded him and Israel and the kingdoms of all other lands." David had a mighty interesting life, but he also had a mighty interesting wife who was an important detail in his life just as he was an important detail in hers; and both inspire me to see how much our lives matter in the lives of others.

Their relationship began with her love and ended in bitterness with a dramatic escape sandwiched in between, and throughout the details of their lives, even the desperately sad parts and the parts we don’t understand, God was actively involved, perfectly able to give us many windows of opportunity even when it seems we’re leading a life of no choices.

It was Bubble Day in my creative writing class, and the freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors were dancing, laughing, skipping, and hollering as they blew bubbles, discovering the miracle of something as common as soap. For me, watching high school students play like children after living in a world of peers and pressure was an exciting experience, and for the kids, watching their bubbles inspired them to write, oblivious to me, the highway, the cows, the flies, and even the ants.  It was a perfect day for our creative writing class all because of something as ordinary as soap.

As I watched them, God spoke to my heart, and I thought, "That's how we should be with God!" He presents us with these incredible, yet everyday occurrences, and in his unfathomable greatness, invites us to see that there is abundantly more out our window than we can ever imagine even when we think there's no hope. For just as bubbles float and drift, they can also leave a mess, which is also part of the wonder of it, the wonder that God is found even in the midst of our most unpleasant situations.

David spent his life discovering more of the wonder of God, and sometimes he found it in the mess of his life, even in the mess he was responsible for making. But as the Apostle Paul tells us, we are to “get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other,  just as in Christ God forgave you.” And he also encourages us to “be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Ephesians 4:31-5:2). David learned contentment by staying close to God; and by staying close to God, he learned not only to watch for him, but also to imitate him. And despite his flaws -- or maybe because of them for David continually asked for forgiveness --he continues to spread the knowledge of God like a sweet fragrance even to us today.

The last we see of Michal, however, is not a fragrant life, but a life reeking of bitter disappointment for she died a barren woman (2 Samuel 6:13). And her tragic story can remind us, when we’re living a life of no choices, that there still are some choices we can make. We can choose to believe God when he says he loves us. We can choose to esteem God’s Word more than what seems like a hopeless situation. And we can choose to believe that we matter. For all choices don’t result in barrenness. 

I embrace Michal as a friend who went through an incredibly difficult time and did not come out the better for it. I yearn for her to know how God heals and gives a purpose to life because it’s important for me to understand that, too.  I wish she could have discovered the wonder of the worship of God for that would have been encouraging to me, too.  But she didn’t. The fragrance of her life doesn’t beckon me, but warns me, warns me of the danger of taking my focus off the source of all strength, the source of all hope, and the source of all peace.

My students in class repeatedly ask me, “Mrs. Bader, do we have to analyze? Can’t we just read and enjoy the story?” That’s the thought that kept coming back to me as I’ve read Michal’s story over and over again. I applaud her bravery and feel her pain and sense her sadness. My heart breaks for the way her life turned out and for what her future could have been.  I don’t want to analyze everything she did, but read her story for the romantic, yet tragic story that it is, asking God to open the eyes of my heart to see him at work in her life. For Michal’s story is about relationship, not analysis. And for us, it’s not too late to look for God’s window of opportunity. For us, one choice can change a tragic ending.  

Gaebelein, Frank E., ed.  The Expositor’s Bible Commentary. Vol  3. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1992. (Editors’ Preface).

Comments

[Conny Hubbard]

Dear Becky,
In preparation for a sermon on bitterness I came across your blog and read this entry you posted. I love what and how you wrote about Michal's life. I have spent many hours studying her life and feeling deeply all the conflicting emotions she must have had. I've put myself in her shoes and wondered also why there was no one there to help her fight the bitterness that was eating her up. You are an excellent writer and have out into words so much of what has been in my heart. Thank you for sharing our treasures. Your blog will be on my reading list. Many blessings, Conny

[Becky Bader]

Hi, Conny. Thanks for your kind words. I've always been fascinated with the women in the Old Testament. What lives they lived and how inspiring...plus such lessons to be learned. I love to write, and I'm grateful that you read my blog. I pray God uses it in whatever way he sees to do so. I hope to hear from you again. Have a blessed day. Becky