The king commanded Joab, Abishai, and Ittai, “Treat the young man Absalom gently for my sake.” All the people heard the king’s orders to all the commanders about Absalom. ~2 Samuel 18:5
Since my late wife and I had no sons, and since our daughters opted for cheerleading and not for Little League or soccer, I never had the experience of standing behind the backstop or along the sidelines while my child played the game. However, having had the fun of visiting the games where my nephews participated, I have seen many out-of-bounds dads. And what an interesting group they are.
Even though they express themselves differently, every dad, if he could, would say to the coach, “Please take special care of my child. Give him more playing time than the rest of the children, and don’t scold him when a ground ball scoots through his legs.” Of course, most dads wouldn’t stoop to begging like this, but it’s what they really want. “After all,” they’d say, “that’s my kid out there.” And I don’t blame them.
Nor do I blame David for asking his senior commanding officers, headed toward a major battle, “Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake.”
The fact is that Absalom didn’t deserve special attention. He was in the process of leading an insurrection against his father, and he had apparently been successful in collecting some troops who were loyal to him and his mutiny. Unfortunately, his troops didn’t save him from Joab, one of David’s commanders. Finding Absalom caught in a tree by his hair, Joab plunged three spears into Absalom’s heart.
When word came back to David that his son was dead, the king’s heart was broken. “If only I had died instead of you” (18:33), he sobbed.
Nothing is revealed in these verses about how much David knew of Absalom’s plot.
We can only surmise that he must have known something. After all, as with any good CEO, “nothing is hidden from the king” (v. 13).
So why did David weep? Why didn’t he celebrate the demise of a traitor? The final sentence of this chapter tells us everything: the dead man was David’s beloved son.
The moment your child is conceived, you fall in love with this unknown person in your wife’s womb. When he draws his first breath, the object of your affection is given a name, and you become “Dad.” For the rest of your life, you cheer for your child— when he holds his head up by himself, rolls over on his own, eats solid food, stands, walks, makes the Pee Wee Soccer team, and even when he grows up and shakes his fist in your face in open rebellion. Whatever happens, he’s yours and you love him.
You argue with him, you punish him, he breaks your heart, but you never stop loving him. He may even try to get you to stop loving him, and while he may hurt you, your heart never stops loving him.
God has placed in us a love for our children that cannot be broken. A love that is sustained through dropped fly balls and foolish, life-altering choices. A love that God Himself has faithfully demonstrated to us, His rebellious and undeserving children. Remove the conditions on your love. If you find this an unusually tough assignment, trust God with it. All God’s children are wayward. He’s been there. He loves them. Aren’t you glad He does?