He was hiding again. At least it was a break from running. It seemed he’d spent a significant portion of his adult life doing one or the other. Try as he might, there was no pleasing the troubled king. Instead, David found himself dodging spears, running for his life, and hiding in self-preservation. From the moment Samuel strode into Bethlehem, up to Jesse’s door, and asked to inspect his sons, things had been in upheaval.
David hadn’t asked for any of this. Never dreamed his life would turn out this way. The dreams of the shepherd boy wandering the hills had not run to being anointed king. That was Samuel’s idea. Well, God’s idea, Samuel’s enactment. The fingers so skilfully plucking the harp intended only to calm nervous sheep, not soothe frayed royal nerves. He never asked to be adored by the king. Didn’t dream of confronting a belligerent, Philistine giant on his own. Had never entertained the idea of hearing the ladies upgrading his abilities while downgrading King Saul’s. He hadn’t asked for any of it.
Yet here he was, stuck in the middle of it. The wilderness of Ziph. The most recent in a long list of hide-and-seek stopovers. Hiding. Again. He’d been all over the place. Ramah. Nob. Gath. Cave of Adullam. Moab. It was necessary if he wanted to stay alive. But David was tired. Tired of running and hiding. Tired of checking around every corner, searching every inch of the forest before taking a rest. Tired of listening to every whispered word, eavesdropping on every clandestine conversation, searching for news of Saul’s most recent plan. Living on the run had not afforded David a proper bed or decent food in longer than he cared to contemplate. He was hiding in the wilderness. He was exhausted. He was frustrated. He was discouraged.
He wasn’t certain why God sent Samuel to anoint him all those years ago, anyway. Saul had a perfectly respectable, godly son to ascend the throne. Jonathan. A man who believed God when the odds were against him. A man who believed in the power of God to protect and preserve the current generation of His people just as He had the generations past. A man who understood that God didn’t need armies of thousands to care for His people. He alone was enough. His power was enough. God could accomplish His purpose with thousands of soldiers or simply one or two.
David believed the same things. In the deepest part of his heart, he knew them to be true. Those beliefs had been the common ground on which Jonathan and David had forged their friendship. A friendship that transcended all odds. It would stand the test of fear, hate, and threats of death. Regardless of their differences in background and upbringing, their faith forged a friendship stronger than life. Stronger than death. They were not just friends with one another. They were friends with God.
Sometimes knowing the facts and remembering them are two quite different things. When we are overwhelmed with fear and worry, frustration and anxiety, discouragement and disappointment, our mental and physical exhaustion exacerbates our emotional and spiritual vulnerability. The evil one uses our turmoil to obscure the facts we know about our God. About His power and promises. About His love. About our seating at His table of grace. He comes against us to distract and destroy our faith.
That’s where David was. Fleeing from those who would report his whereabouts to Saul. Hiding from the man consumed by thoughts of his death. Temporarily camped out in the wilderness of Ziph at Horesh. Tired. Overwhelmed. Discouraged. Vulnerable. A still target for a spear-throwing Saul. David was desperately in need of courage. He was fiercely in need of hope. He was urgently in need of a friend. A courageous friend. An encourager. David needed to hear from Jonathan. He needed to hear things he already knew. Things about his God. Things about his faith. Things about his future. Honest things only a friend could say and not become an enemy.
Because God’s timing is always impeccable, Jonathan is already on his way. Racing a murderously angry Saul who was beating every bush and shrub for sightings and leads in his bloodthirsty search, Jonathan wastes no time in heading straight to David’s last known resting place. Horesh. Clapping eyes on the tired eyes and burdened soul of his friend, Jonathan speaks words of hope to David. Words of courage. Words that bolster sagging faith. Reminders of God’s promises. Reminders of God’s constancy. In words plain and simple, like a healing salve on an open wound, Jonathan encouraged David in God alone. (I Samuel 16-23)
He didn’t have to. Other words would have sounded similar. Other accounts would have highlighted David’s amazing abilities. Jonathan could have congratulated David’s brawn when destroying the lion and bear. He could have extolled David’s bravery in volunteering to face Goliath. He could have sung the chants of the people about the tens of thousands David had slain or exalted David’s gymnastic ability in spear dodging. He didn’t. He was much too good of a friend for that. Instead of directing David’s attention inward and building up his confidence in his own finite abilities, Jonathan directed David’s attention upward to the infinite abilities of their great God. (I Samuel 23:16)
So rarely do we do the same. When our friends or acquaintances come to us discouraged, distressed, or downhearted, we search for something uplifting to say. Unfortunately, the words that come out often express their greatness, exalt their abilities and extol their accomplishments. We speak of them in grandiose terms, looking on the outside, the earthly, the finite. Encourage them with a litany of past successes. Highlight their self-security, self-sufficiency, and self-importance. Applaud their skills. Stroke their ego. Strengthen their self-confidence. Essentially pointing them inward instead of upward.
It is impossible to stress how urgently we need to point them upward. Discouraged. Downhearted. Distressed. Disappointed. Now more than ever before, we need to remind them with Whom they are friends. We need to point to God’s sufficiency, His power, His promises and encourage our friends to take courage. Find strength in the God who never lets His people down, whose timing is always perfect, and whose plan never fails. Take courage in Christ alone.
Do not lean on your own understanding. Do not bank on your own abilities. Do not trust your own strength. You can’t. There is no soul safety there. Your help, your hope comes from God alone. (Psalm 121:1-2; II Corinthians 3:5; Psalm 145:13; Joshua 21:45; Proverbs 3:5-7; Ecclesiastes 3:11; Jeremiah 32:17)
It might not be easy. The words might not fall from your mouth at the first attempt. They might seem awkward or strange. They will likely be unexpected. Say them anyway. Practice them. Search out the promises of God. Read them. Memorize them. Believe them. Share them. Speak words of courage and strength into the hearts and lives of the people around you. Don’t ever stop. When it isn’t popular, when it seems you are the only one doing it, when it feels like no one wants to hear your words, say them anyway. Someone needs to hear them. Change the trajectory of their outlook. Point their eyes to Jesus. Encourage one another in Christ alone. (Psalm 31:24; John 16:33; I Corinthians 15:58, 16:13; Romans 8:31; I Thessalonians 5:11; Joshua 1:9; Isaiah 41:13)