Authors: Jill Eileen Smith
David straightened, and one of the blankets slipped from his shoulders. Abishag hurried to tuck it in behind him again, but he waved her away, extending a hand to Bathsheba instead. She clasped his fingers, and he jolted, almost jerking back at her icy touch. She was visibly shaking, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her as he once had.
But Benaiah stepped into the room again, breaking his train of thought. He released his grip on her hand and she stepped back, allowing Benaiah to approach, followed by another man. David squinted, silently cursing the slight dimness around the edges of his vision.
“My lord,” Benaiah said, bending forward. David wondered how the man could seem so young when in truth he was not many years behind David’s own age. “Nathan the prophet is here.”
David recognized the prophet’s long hair and beard and his coarse robe and tunic. Nathan stepped into the place where Bathsheba had just stood and bowed low, his face to the ground.
“Have you, my lord the king, declared that Adonijah shall be king after you, and that he will sit on your throne? Today he has gone down and sacrificed great numbers of cattle, fattened calves, and sheep. He has invited all the king’s sons, the commanders of the army, and Abiathar the priest. Right now they’re eating and drinking with him and saying, ‘Long live King Adonijah!’ But he did not invite me your servant, Zadok the priest, Benaiah son of Jehoiada, or your servant Solomon. Is this something my lord the king has done without letting his servants know who should sit on the throne after him?”
Anger flared, heating his blood, stirring him to sit straighter. He let the blankets fall to his lap and looked at his veined hands, his gaze settling on the signet ring. The ring belonged to the one who would rule after him. Thoughts of Haggith and her son Adonijah surfaced, the young man’s handsome face reminding him too much of Absalom. They had both inherited David’s own apparent good looks, although where Absalom had Maacah’s dark, exotic beauty, Adonijah had the attractiveness of Joseph’s line, after his mother. But God had chosen Solomon, not Adonijah.
“Call Bathsheba to me,” he said, folding his hands on his lap so the ringed hand rested on top.
Nathan moved away, and Bathsheba once again stood before him suddenly looking as vulnerable as she had the first night he had wooed her. Surely she knew how much he loved her.
“Beloved.” He spoke softly, wanting to comfort her. She met his gaze, and he beckoned her forward. She came and knelt at his side, and he took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her still smooth skin. “I vow to you, as surely as Adonai lives, who has delivered me out of every trouble, I will surely carry out today what I swore to you by Adonai Elohei Yisrael, the Lord, the God of Israel. Solomon your son shall be king after me, and he will sit on my throne in my place.”
Tears skimmed her lashes, and he smiled. He pulled her closer and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. She leaned forward and kissed him, then lowered herself with her face to the ground. “May my lord King David live forever!”
David bent toward her and touched the top of her head, the action more difficult than he expected. When had he become so weak? Had it only been a few months ago that he thought his kingdom, his rule, would last for many years to come, when he thought his life was far from over? How quickly his strength had faded, like the grass that withers.
Bathsheba rose to her feet, and David motioned for her to sit beside him. She perched on the edge of the couch and took his hand again. He smiled, holding her gaze, then looked at a servant standing near. “Call in Zadok the priest, Nathan the prophet, and Benaiah son of Jehoiada.”
He looked at Bathsheba while the man went to do his bidding. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, a remnant of tears still clinging to her lashes.
He nodded, but before he could speak, Benaiah, Nathan, and Zadok approached. They must have been hoping he would act and waiting in the outer chambers. Thank God for three such trusted, loyal friends.
He looked at each one in turn, hoping they could sense how much he trusted them, how grateful he was for their support. Surely his kingdom would fall into Adonijah’s hands, outside of Adonai’s will, without their help. And yet, nothing could fall outside of Adonai’s will. Even in this He was working all things for good.
“Take your lord’s servants with you,” he said to Benaiah as he squeezed Bathsheba’s hand, “and set Solomon my son on my own mule and take him down to Gihon. Have Zadok the priest and Nathan the prophet anoint him king over Israel. Blow the trumpet and shout, ‘Long live King Solomon!’ Then you’re to go up with him, and he is to come and sit on my throne and reign in my place. I have appointed him ruler over Israel and Judah.”
Benaiah stepped forward and fell to one knee. “Amen! May Adonai, the God of my lord the king, so declare it,” he said, his approval evident in his smile. Once, this faithful guard had disapproved of David’s foolish choices, and now his friend’s forgiveness and acceptance were a balm and a relief. Solomon would be wise to trust Benaiah, perhaps making him commander in Joab’s place.
“As Adonai was with my lord the king,” Benaiah was saying, “so may He be with Solomon to make his throne even greater than the throne of my lord King David!”
“May Adonai declare it,” Nathan and Zadok said in unison.
As the men filed out of his chambers to do his bidding, David shifted in his seat and looked into Bathsheba’s beautiful face. “I should have done this a long time ago, beloved.”
She shook her head. “You are doing it now. That’s all that matters.” Yet he could tell by her expression that she agreed with him but was too kind to say so.
He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “You should go with them. Watch your son wear the crown in my place.”
“I would stay with you, my lord.”
He clasped both hands around hers, then released them to pull the signet ring from his finger. “Give this to your son Solomon. When he sits on my throne, send someone to tell me.”
She shook her head again, and he could tell she would not leave unless he insisted. How he loved her!
“It is not every day a man becomes a king, beloved. Go, join the procession and rejoice at our son’s side in my place. Then come to me and we will celebrate together.”
A tentative wistfulness crossed her face. “You’re sure?”
He patted her hand and released it. “I’m sure.”
She smiled, and he knew he would never see anything again so beautiful, the memories between them a treasure to cherish always.
“You are my priceless jewel, Bathsheba.” She stood, her eyes shining. “Now go in peace. Then come and return to me.”
She bowed low once more, then kissed him and left his chambers to watch her son Solomon become king in his place.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Bathsheba sat on a gilded chair, a circle of gold ringing her hair, the symbol that David had finally chosen his queen. In front of her, the two kings sat on royal thr
o
nes—David looking thin and frail, his body marred by age, and Solomon, his youthful frame filling out the royal robes with vigor, majesty, and splendor. Her heart surged with wistfulness and pride. Before them all stood a multitude of commanders and leaders in Israel, their numbers filling the courtyard and spilling around the sides of the palace.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees spaced about the courtyard, a reminder that spring had come again, a time when kings went out to war, but there were no more wars for David or Solomon to fight. Adonai had indeed brought about a kingdom of peace for Solomon to rule in David’s stead. And David had lived to see it.
She looked over the crowd, her gaze settling on the women of David’s court. She missed Michal most of all, whose friendship she had sought and gained in the past few years before her death. Ahinoam had joined Michal soon after, their bodies resting in David’s tomb, while Maacah and her daughter Tamar had at last returned to Geshur. Only the younger wives and concubines were left for Solomon to inherit. He had vowed when his father passed on to treat them as widows.
As she would soon be.
Much too soon.
David rose slowly to his feet, the effort difficult, and she wondered what pains he suffered in doing so and how long his newfound strength would last. Sadness filtered through her, and she wished not for the first time that their lives could truly go on forever, as the blessing offered to kings proclaimed. But though the people might wish it, even loudly assert, “May my lord King David live forever,” no one remained exempt from Sheol. Not even their beloved King David.
She turned her attention to catch his every word.
“Listen to me, my brothers and my people. I had it in my heart to build a house as a place of rest for the ark of the covenant of Adonai, for the footstool of our God, and I made plans to build it. But God said to me, ‘You are not to build a house for My name, because you are a warrior and have shed blood.’
“Yet Adonai Elohei Yisrael chose me from my whole family to be king over Israel forever. He chose Judah as leader, and from the house of Judah He chose my family, and from my father’s sons He was pleased to make me king over all Israel. Of all my sons—and Adonai has given me many—He has chosen my son Solomon to sit on the throne of the kingdom of Adonai over Israel. He said to me, ‘Solomon your son is the one who will build My house and My courts, for I have chosen him to be My son, and I will be his father. I will establish his kingdom forever if he is unswerving in carrying out My commands and laws, as is being done at this time.’”
He paused, looking out over the people as though he were seeing the sheep of his pasture rather than the commanders of hundreds and thousands of his troops. He stretched his arms wide before them. “So now I charge you in the sight of all Israel and of the assembly of Adonai, and in the hearing of our God: be careful to follow all the commands of Adonai Eloheynu, that you may possess this good land and pass it on as an inheritance to your descendants forever.”
He turned, facing Solomon, who knelt at David’s feet. Bathsheba’s tears filmed, and she blinked away the moisture, proud of the image they made, a father blessing and counseling his son.
David rested both hands on Solomon’s crowned head and cleared his throat. “And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge Adonai Avinu, the God of your father, and serve Him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for Adonai searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts. If you seek Him, you will find Him, but if you forsake Him, He will reject you forever. Consider now, for Adonai has chosen you to build a temple as a sanctuary. Be strong and do the work.”
He lifted his hands from Solomon’s head and offered Solomon his hand. Solomon took it and stood at his father’s side, though Bathsheba knew by the way David swayed slightly that it was Solomon’s strength now holding him up. Silence followed, and a look passed between them. Bathsheba’s heart gave a soft kick at the love they shared.
Oh, Adonai, how blessed I am to see this! How good You have been to Your servant David.
David’s voice pulled her thoughts back to him. She straightened, seeing that he had turned to face the crowd once more.
“My son Solomon, the one whom God has chosen, is young and inexperienced. The task is great, because this palatial structure is not for man but for Adonai, the Lord God. With all my resources, I have provided for the temple of Elohai, my God, gold, silver, bronze, iron, and wood, as well as onyx, turquoise, stones of various colors, and all kinds of fine stone and marble—all of these in large quantities. In addition, I now give my personal treasures of gold and silver—three thousand talents of gold of Ophir and seven thousand talents of refined silver—for all of the work to be done by the craftsmen.” He paused, drew in a breath, and let his gaze take in the crowd. “Who is willing to consecrate himself today to the Lord?”
Bathsheba looked toward the threshing floor and the king’s storehouse directly behind the palace. David was giving a staggering amount to the work. But she would expect nothing less of him. He was a man devoted, consumed, in his passion for the Lord his God. A generous man who had learned the gratitude that comes of sins forgiven.
The king took his seat again, and the people moved forward, bringing gifts presented first to David and then transferred into the care of the man in charge of the king’s treasuries.
The sun rose high in the heavens, warming the pavement and the skin beneath Bathsheba’s robes. Servants lifted palm fronds to cool the air around them and brought golden cups of wine to refresh them.
As the last of the gifts were placed at David’s feet, he spoke. “Who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this? Adonai Eloheynu, as for all this abundance that we have provided for building You a temple for Your holy name, it comes from Your hand, and all of it belongs to You. Adonai, God of our fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, keep this desire in the hearts of Your people forever, and keep their hearts loyal to You. And give my son Solomon the wholehearted devotion to keep Your commands, requirements, and decrees and to do everything to build the palatial structure for which I have provided.”
David lowered his hands and bowed his head. Silence followed his prayer for the space of several heartbeats, and Bathsheba’s own heart lifted with joy and gratitude and great pride in this man whom she called husband and king.
Oh, Adonai Eloheynu, hear the prayer of Your servant David. Give my son Solomon a heart to follow You with wholehearted devotion, as his father David has done.
She opened her eyes at the sound of movement in time to see Solomon standing once again at David’s side. David clutched Solomon’s arm, his strength ebbing with the setting sun, but his voice carried, sure and strong. “Praise Adonai Eloheynu, the Lord your God.”
A shout of praise shook the earth beneath the portico. Bathsheba stood, lifting her voice to join the others, joy in Adonai’s goodness to her overwhelming her once again. That He should choose to bless her when she was so unworthy . . . David’s own words had said it all. All of this abundance, every blessing poured out on them, belonged to Adonai. He would grant Solomon the wisdom to build the temple David loved, and, God willing, she would live to see it.
She moved from her place behind the king and came to join him, taking his arm, feeling the strength of his joy. He turned to her and smiled.
“Adonai El Yisrael has given rest to His people, beloved, that they may dwell in Jerusalem forever.” He took her hand and pulled her close, kissing her lightly on the cheek. The light in his eyes reflected the love that had not diminished with the years. “I am glad I lived to see my promise to you fulfilled.” He stroked her palm as his gaze shifted to Solomon. “Pray for him, beloved. He will need great wisdom to lead such a people.”
The shouts and singing dwindled, and Bathsheba could see the light fading from David’s eyes. “You are tired, my lord. Come inside now and rest. Tomorrow we will celebrate once more.”
He nodded, slowly stepping forward, raising his hands to quiet the crowd.
“Pray for the peace of Jerusalem,” David sang, the words lilting with his sweet tenor, still beautiful despite the slight warble age had brought. Bathsheba’s heart stirred with the tune, knowing that peace had at last truly come, but David was right. Peace could be lost too easily. She must pray for shalom every moment of Solomon’s reign.
“May they prosper who love you, O Jerusalem. Peace be within your walls, prosperity within your palaces. For the sake of my brethren and companions, I will now say, ‘Peace be within you.’ Because of the house of Adonai Eloheynu, I will seek your good.”
The words echoed to the far reaches of the crowd, and one by one the men and women sank to the ground and bowed low before Adonai and the king.