still more afraid of David. So Saul became David’s enemy continually.
1 Samuel 18:28–29
Saul also sent messengers to David’s house to watch him and to kill him in the morning. And Michal, David’s wife, told him, saying, “If you do not save your life tonight, tomorrow you will be killed.” So Michal let David down through a window. And he went and fled and escaped.
1 Samuel 19:11–12
10
“Please, David, don’t go.” Michal sat on the foot of their bed, hands outstretched in supplication. “We’ve only been married seven months, and you’ve gone to war three times.” She let a tear slip down her cheek. “I can’t bear it when you leave. I’m so afraid.”
David straightened his tunic and tightened his belt before coming to kneel at her side. He took both of her hands in his. “I won’t let anything happen to you. What are you afraid of, beloved?”
Hot tears wet Michal’s cheeks, and she felt his scarred fingers brush them away. “How can you protect me when you’re not here? You know how my father acts when the demons attack him. What if he tries to hurt me?”
David bent to kiss her moist face, then pulled her against his chest, stroking her plaited hair. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and Michal felt his shoulders slump as though in defeat. “If I stay, your father will find more reasons to become annoyed with me, Michal. While I hate leaving you, it is better for all of us the less I’m around your father.”
“We could move away, David. Just the two of us. Then we’d never have to see my father again.” Though they lived apart from the palace in a home of their own, the house still belonged to her father on palace grounds. Too close to breathe easily or to feel like their home was truly their own.
David held her at arm’s length. “And do what, beloved? Tend sheep? Live in caves? Your father is king. He could find us if he wanted to. Israel isn’t that big.” He kissed her nose. “Besides, God doesn’t want me to live my life in seclusion. You knew that when we married.”
A shiver ran through her. Every time David left her alone, nagging doubts filled her. What if he didn’t come back? He would never sit on the throne of Israel with her at his side if he died in battle.
She felt his hands slip from her shoulders as he released her and stood. He pulled his striped brown robe over his tan tunic and attached the leather girdle holding his sling and sword.
“I have to go, Michal.” He turned to face her again, his expression grim. “Please don’t make this harder than it is.”
A lump formed in Michal’s throat, and she blinked back tears. She stood and walked with him to the front entrance. Two household, man-sized teraphim guarded either side of the wooden door. David looked at them, then turned to her, his brows furrowed. “I don’t know why we keep these statues, Michal. They certainly can’t be pleasing to Yahweh.”
Heat rushed to Michal’s cheeks. Hadn’t she felt the same the moment her mother dropped them at their door? A wedding gift, she’d said. Michal closed her eyes at the memory. Ishbosheth had stood behind their mother, shaking his head, his penetrating gaze accusing her.
“They’re idols, Michal,” David said. “We shouldn’t keep them.”
“Would you turn my mother against us too?” Her lower lip trembled despite her attempt at defiance.
David’s expression softened, and his arms came around her again. “Of course not. If it pleases you, keep them—for now. We can decide what to do with them later.”
“If there is a later.”
His kiss silenced her skepticism, and for one brief moment she felt protected and loved. In the distance a trumpet sounded, and David released her and opened the door.
“There will be,” he said, his tone cheerful. “When I return, things will change. You’ll see.” He stepped onto the landing and walked slowly down the steps to the street below. Michal leaned against the railing and watched him wave
1 Samuel 18:28–29
Saul also sent messengers to David’s house to watch him and to kill him in the morning. And Michal, David’s wife, told him, saying, “If you do not save your life tonight, tomorrow you will be killed.” So Michal let David down through a window. And he went and fled and escaped.
1 Samuel 19:11–12
10
“Please, David, don’t go.” Michal sat on the foot of their bed, hands outstretched in supplication. “We’ve only been married seven months, and you’ve gone to war three times.” She let a tear slip down her cheek. “I can’t bear it when you leave. I’m so afraid.”
David straightened his tunic and tightened his belt before coming to kneel at her side. He took both of her hands in his. “I won’t let anything happen to you. What are you afraid of, beloved?”
Hot tears wet Michal’s cheeks, and she felt his scarred fingers brush them away. “How can you protect me when you’re not here? You know how my father acts when the demons attack him. What if he tries to hurt me?”
David bent to kiss her moist face, then pulled her against his chest, stroking her plaited hair. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and Michal felt his shoulders slump as though in defeat. “If I stay, your father will find more reasons to become annoyed with me, Michal. While I hate leaving you, it is better for all of us the less I’m around your father.”
“We could move away, David. Just the two of us. Then we’d never have to see my father again.” Though they lived apart from the palace in a home of their own, the house still belonged to her father on palace grounds. Too close to breathe easily or to feel like their home was truly their own.
David held her at arm’s length. “And do what, beloved? Tend sheep? Live in caves? Your father is king. He could find us if he wanted to. Israel isn’t that big.” He kissed her nose. “Besides, God doesn’t want me to live my life in seclusion. You knew that when we married.”
A shiver ran through her. Every time David left her alone, nagging doubts filled her. What if he didn’t come back? He would never sit on the throne of Israel with her at his side if he died in battle.
She felt his hands slip from her shoulders as he released her and stood. He pulled his striped brown robe over his tan tunic and attached the leather girdle holding his sling and sword.
“I have to go, Michal.” He turned to face her again, his expression grim. “Please don’t make this harder than it is.”
A lump formed in Michal’s throat, and she blinked back tears. She stood and walked with him to the front entrance. Two household, man-sized teraphim guarded either side of the wooden door. David looked at them, then turned to her, his brows furrowed. “I don’t know why we keep these statues, Michal. They certainly can’t be pleasing to Yahweh.”
Heat rushed to Michal’s cheeks. Hadn’t she felt the same the moment her mother dropped them at their door? A wedding gift, she’d said. Michal closed her eyes at the memory. Ishbosheth had stood behind their mother, shaking his head, his penetrating gaze accusing her.
“They’re idols, Michal,” David said. “We shouldn’t keep them.”
“Would you turn my mother against us too?” Her lower lip trembled despite her attempt at defiance.
David’s expression softened, and his arms came around her again. “Of course not. If it pleases you, keep them—for now. We can decide what to do with them later.”
“If there is a later.”
His kiss silenced her skepticism, and for one brief moment she felt protected and loved. In the distance a trumpet sounded, and David released her and opened the door.
“There will be,” he said, his tone cheerful. “When I return, things will change. You’ll see.” He stepped onto the landing and walked slowly down the steps to the street below. Michal leaned against the railing and watched him wave
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