Betrayal for Beauty

It was his day to confess, but as daybreak rose, he longed for more time. His guilt, the hatred, the self-loathing were so overwhelming that he could not stand to be himself any longer. Painful remorse followed him since the incident, the sin that he had committed so overwhelming, that even one more day of postponement was wrong. Sadly, the day to pay for his action was upon him, and he could not allow anything to postpone it.

Even before the servant roused him for the morning, the man lay awake on the finest silken bedding, realizing that the torturous morning had arrived. When he was alone again, he sat on the bedside his head in his hands, his long red hair and beard disheveled from days of inattention; a sick feeling of revulsion in the pit of his stomach. He looked across the room through the window seeing the beautiful rising sun, and remembered for the first time that morning that God was there for him. He knelt on the cold stone floor and prayed words so easy in the past, the process now so painful with none of the usual endearing expressions coming to his lips. His pleas to God rang empty, his guilt so deep; still he knew that God would not abandon him. At times in the past he would dance for the Lord on these same stone floors; today the thought of doing so sickened him.

Servants had worked for hours preparing a wood fire- warmed bath, and he cried as he soaked in the perfumed waters remembering his triumphant life now in ruin as if smashed upon shoreline boulders of the Jordan River. The army had stagnated for 40 days in the valley of Elah, when as just a child he slew the giant and cut off his head using only his sling and the giant's own sword; faith in the God of Israel his source of power. His faith protected him through years of angry pursuit by an insane King Saul, and kept him from slaying the man when he was in his hands in the cave at En Gedi. He was a man after God's own heart, rich beyond belief; the Master of all Israel and Judah. He had sinned however against his Lord; would God forgive him? Would he ever be able to live with himself again, he wondered?

The man tried to eat, his morning breakfast laid out in his chamber bountifully, the manservant quietly leaving, aware of his anguish. He ate very little, hunger really not the source of the sick feeling that plagued him in the pit of his gullet for such a long time. Turning to his harp he tried to play, always a source of relief in the past, but it was as if the Lord would not listen anymore.

The man moved to the throne room and sat timidly. It was a gift beyond his imagination, the throne symbolic of his riches and kingdom. As he sat he felt that feeling again. It was a feeling that he had felt for so long, the feeling that the throne was large but he was really a small man; too small to occupy it anymore.

As he sat and waited, the words of the prophet Nathan would not leave him. Long before he had been told the parable which was so ominous, so obviously intended for him and portending his demise so clearly, why could he have not anticipated it? In this story there was a man rich beyond belief, with possessions galore, and many sheep in his herds. When faced with a feast he took the sole ewe raised by the poor man for slaughter, rather than using one of his own flock. When he had heard this story he had been so angry, declaring that the rich man should die, only to have the prophet tell him: "that man is you." How obvious now, he truly was that man, and today he must confess his failure.

The manservant knocked gently on his chamber door, entering and telling the King that his Queen awaited him as per instruction. He took a moment to straighten himself, looking in the long mirror and wondering if he was strong enough for the moment. Dropping to his knees, he looked again to heaven and said a small prayer, hoping that the Lord most of all would forgive him and give him the strength to tell the woman the terrible crime that he had committed.

Bathsheba was beautiful as always, the woman one of his 30 queens, and if truth be known his favorite. She stood when the King entered the room kissing his hand, grateful as always for his presence and then kneeled before him.