Sometimes (okay, really often) I wonder about the decisions I make. You know, whether I picked the right career path (I mean, after all, does anybody else really care—or does it even matter—what the axial form factor of neutrino-nucleus interactions is?), whether I'm even in the right place (I grew up in New England, and, as they say, though you can take the boy out of the country, you can't take the country out of the boy), whether I should've invited the guy I share my office with to the Christmas services... And, judging from the things I hear at my small group, at church, and at G.A.P. large group meetings, I'm not the only one. I don't think I'm alone in worrying from time to time that one bad choice might royally screw up my life – and maybe other peoples' lives to boot. 

 

After reading today's text, though, it strikes me that God has an answer to that sort of fear. The chapter begins against the backdrop of mourning, with a subtle hint of doubt and uncertainty woven in: the prophet Samuel, the greatest among Israel's judges and their spiritual leader—their Martin Luther King, Jr., if you like—has just died. Though in ch. 24 David and Saul struck a truce, as we'll see in the coming chapters, Saul has by no means put aside his thirst for David's blood. In the interest of getting as much ground as possible between him and the king, David and his men head for the desert, and, finding it tough to provide for them all, he tries to cash in a favor he thinks he earned by protecting the ironically named Nabaal's (Abigail notes in v. 25 that it means “fool”) assets the last time he was in the area. Only, Nabaal sees differently; instead of help, David finds himself the recipient of a scornful, out-of-hand dismissal. 

At first, I find myself taken aback by David's response. Sure, the guy dissed him; but somehow “putting on their swords” (v. 13) and prepping to slaughter all the guys in Nabaal's house (v. 22) seems to me like the epitome of “overkill.” Stepping back, though, I can at least begin to get the picture: in a culture where hospitality is prized like gold, spurning someone who comes to your door asking merely for help is the strongest affront imaginable. Even more, David and company are desperate. Without provisions, the desert will probably wind up being their gravesite: Nabaal's rejection is a death sentence. David's reaction is understandable, if not necessarily appropriate. 

But God had other plans for him. As indicated in Abigail's words (vv. 26, 31), hotheaded action on David's part would likely jeopardize his future. And because God's plans for David were simultaneously his plans for the nation of Israel, he stepped in to provide in such a way that a mistake by David wouldn't be the end of Israel's story. 

I think that he does the same thing for modern-day followers, too. Now, I'll be the last to argue that God is simply Superman, jumping in to “save the day” whenever we teeter too close to a wrong decision; after all, as we'll see in the upcoming weeks, he allowed David to sin in ways that involved the wholesale abuse of power (2 Sam. 11-12) and that caused the death of many (2 Sam. 24). But I do think that this chapter shows us that God knows his servants—and, more importantly, his servants' limitations—and that from time to time he steps directly into our lives to provide guidance (sometimes in the form of other people, like Abigail) so that we arrive at his goal for us. He doesn't hang us out to dry, watching idly by as we wrestle our way through life. Instead, he supplies us with the direction we need at the moments we need it. We can indeed count on him to “carry his work in us to completion until the day of Christ Jesus,” as it says in Philippians. 

 

For me, the reminder that God's “got my back,” so to speak, is huge. It puts a whole new face on my decision-making: no longer do I need to be constantly second-guessing myself, wondering if I've chosen rightly. I'm still responsible to make the best decisions I can, for sure, but the prospect of permanent failure no longer haunts my thoughts. I can instead rejoice in the fact that God has allowed my decisions to be part of his plan for the world, and I'm learning to be confident that God is at work behind the scenes to make sure everything comes out right in the end. I hope that you, too, are learning to trust God more and better as (together!) we try to follow his will for our lives. 

 

Your fellow traveler, 

 

Jeremy