guest post: david on david

David, like his namesake, is an unashamed worshipper of Jesus

David Illidge is one of several young men I’m privileged to mentor. I often give my guys homework each time we meet and David’s recent assignment was to do a brief character study on – who else? – David of the Bible.

Not gonna lie, he blew the old professor away. Naturally, I asked if I could post it because I thought you might be encouraged by another up-and-comer from the next generation. 

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My name is David.

I guess my parents had high hopes for me. There has never been anyone quite like the king of Israel and I pale in comparison. He was the slayer of ten thousands, and I get nervous when I talk to girls. But I could never be jealous of him. If I were born in an earlier time and in a different part of the world, I would gladly serve under a man like David. I would study him every time he was in the room and pray, “God, teach me to be like him.”

As a matter of fact, I pray it anyway.

Here’s why. David took down a lion and bear with just his hands before anyone heard of him. Then there was the time he killed a giant with a slingshot. And he just kept on going being unstoppable. Consider this. David had three monstrous men directly under him in his military. The first, Joshebbasshebeth, once killed 800 men in a single battle. Eleazer fought one battle for so long that his sword became attached to his hand. And Shammah once stayed on the battlefield after all his men left and won the battle himself. But these men stopped and listened whenever David spoke. He was one bad dude.
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On top of being unconquerable, David was God’s anointed. It’d be easy to let it go to his head. Saul chased David out of the kingdom for fear he would take it by force. David does the unthinkable and bowed his head to Saul when he was caught. David was the “better man” by any measure. He asked Saul why he would chase after a “dead dog, a flea.” Could you bow your face to the literal dirt and talk about yourself like that? Could you do it knowing God had chosen you to replace a man like Saul? I couldn’t.
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Speaking of being on the run from Saul, there’s a story about David that doesn’t get talked about enough. David and his men were running for so long that they couldn’t go on any farther. David began to look for food. He found the priest and did something outrageous. He asked for the only food around, the Bread of the Presence. Only priests could eat that bread, and people died for violations of God’s temple. This was equivalent to what Esther did by entering the king’s chamber unannounced. But David knew Yahweh better than anyone else. He took the bread and fed his men. They lived, and Jesus even commends David for his actions. David knew that God’s rules were meant to sustain men, not to tear them down.

But as great a fighter he was, sometimes he chose not to. One day David was forced from his throne by Absalom, his son. On the way out, a member of Saul’s family began to curse David and throw rocks at him like he was on the playground. David’s men were ready to end the man’s life, but David said no. “If he is cursing because the Lord has said to him, ‘Curse David,’ who then shall say, ‘Why have you done so?’” David trusted God enough to bear the humiliation and let him handle the situation instead of his very capable men.
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David was astoundingly ready to forgive, too. Absalom eventually caught up to David. He was ready to take his father’s life. David’s men are ready to spill the young upstart’s blood. They’re gearing up for the battle when David says to deal gently with Absalom for David’s sake. I can see their shoulders slump. “Deal gently? Are you kidding me?” One of his less faithful men does end up killing Absalom, though. David is distraught when he hears the news. He cries, “Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”

​David was more man than anyone I’ve personally met. But he would challenge our idea of being man, too. He wrote poetry, and he was good at it. He didn’t see it as a waste of his time or something that “those artsy types” do. His poems are still around, filling up the Psalms.

He could dance, too. David was the king of Israel and the king of dancing like nobody was watching – even if the whole nation was. When the Ark of the Covenant was returned to Jerusalem, David danced with so much exuberance that he embarrassed his wife. She told him to stop and David spoke the immortal line, “I will become even more undignified than this.” If we’re honest, most guys don’t like to dance ‘cause they’re afraid they’ll look bad, no matter what excuse they give you. Not David. He knew no fear on the battlefield or the dance floor.
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I could go on. But lowercase ‘d’ david has written enough. King David knew no fear because he knew Yahweh was on his side. People like to make him a kind of underdog. God never saw him that way. God has his eye on him the fields with the sheep long before he took down Goliath. He brought David up to be king of Israel because he knew who David’s heart followed. David was faithful with his sheep and a worshipper of God through writing and song. I pray that God teaches me to be the kind of man my namesake was and trust that if I’m faithful here God sees me too. I invite you to do the same. ​

a matter of pronouns

Photo ©️ Scott Mitchell

God is very particular about his grammar, especially where it concerns us. Consider the back-and-forth gospel pronouns of this glorious scripture,

He has made him to be sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” (2 Corinthians 5:20)

Us and him. He and we. Kingdoms in conflict; a separation of powers.   

The following poem undoes the riddle as Bennett’s words tug on gospel strings, each verse building upon the next. Watch as the pronouns switch places until at last the Guiltless One wins the day and owns the damning burden of all humanity:


DELIVERANCE

Under the Law with its tenfold lash,

Learning – alas, how true! –

That the more I tried

The sooner I died,

While the Law, cried:

“You, you, you!”

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Hopelessly still did the battle rage:

 “O wretched man!“ my cry,

And deliverance I sought

By some penance bought,

While my soul cried:

“I, I, I!”

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Then came a day when my struggles ceased,

And trembling in every limb

At the foot of the tree

Where one died for me

I sobbed out:

“Him, Him, Him!

– R.P.D. Bennett


I came into this world mastering the singular personal pronoun, “I.” I’ve used it effortlessly and endlessly; it flows like honey over my lips and tastes as sweet. As you have probably seen, I still use it an awful lot – see? I still do. Wow, it’s hard to get away from that pronoun.

It’s mighty difficult not to make it about me. And you have the same conflict. Not judging. Just is.

When Jesus said, “it is finished” the transaction spoken about in the scripture at the top was completed. That matter is settled.

There is still an “I” that dangles like a hanging chad on a punch card, however, and I know I will not be made ready for glory until that matter is dealt with. I yearn for the day my “I” collapses fully under the weight of the possessive pronoun of HIS good reign.

I put my unadulterated amen to Elyse’s tweet yesterday:

I really hope this is the year that happens. I’m so tired of me some days I wonder how He can do it. Thank God he’s really good at what he does.

I’m asking the Father to baptize me in unassailable love, making me inoffensible and pure in heart. It’s a tall order, but:

it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Philippians 2:13

Now, that’s just good grammar.

Selah

home for christmas


It rained. Oh, how it rained!

A rather unfestive three days before Christmas, the storms were so bad we couldn’t get out of the van to watch the men lower our son’s body into its resting-place. The very best we could do was pull up beside the gravesite and witness the hurried ceremony, if you could even call it that. I could see my wife’s breath on the window from her passenger seat, forming little clouds of moisture as she looked on, reverently. We held hands.

It seemed oddly profane to see our son lowered as the running rain sluiced into the earthen hole. It was made doubly so by not having the familiar words spoken over the descending casket but rather the hasty work of workmen finishing before the hole flooded.

It was December 22 and Christmas felt so far away. 

Four years have passed since that driving rainstorm served as the backdrop of one of our little family’s toughest days. It did not, however, drown our hope. Our only child – in spite of trauma, tragedy, and devilish snare – made it home for Christmas by the grace of God.

Funny what you think about in moments of deep sorrow.

Graham leading worship at The Garden in Atlanta, our last Father’s Day together

The last time I was in Graham’s company on a good day (re: clean and living with purpose) I watched him lead worship at a place called The Garden. Fittingly, it was Father’s Day, and, quite incidentally, a bright, sunny morning.

He was clad in jeans and a white fedora, with an electric guitar cradled around his broad shoulders. There was an array of snaking wires and guitar pedals at his feet. Me, I sat on the opposite side of the platform and just beamed at my boy. With axe in hand, Graham was pretty incredible if I do say so. 

I believe my son chose the first song of the worship set as a means of introducing us to himself in terms he could easily have written. I’m going to add the lyrics because it’s important to know what his heart was conveying in that unworldly moment; chiefly, that he was averse to being fake, a kid who wanted nothing more than to “make it home” by God’s grace…in spite of himself.

Here’s how Graham wanted to be remembered. This is what he wanted his mom and I to think about in that driving rain on that cold, December Sunday afternoon:

(Momma & Dad,)

I’m not trying to hide anything
I wear it on my sleeve
I wear it on my sleeve
I’m not trying to be something I’m not
This is all I’ve got
This is all I’ve got

I’m not trying to re-invent the wheel
Just trying to be real
Trying to be real
I’m not trying to say follow me
I’m not the one who leads
I’m not the one who leads

Let me introduce myself to you
This is who I am
No more, no less
I am just a man who understands
Because of You I’m blessed
No more, no less

I’m not trying to prove anything
It’s all about the change
It’s all about the change

I hope you stare just long enough to see
The heart that’s beating here inside of me
Beyond all the things you may think you know
I’m just a kid trying to make it home, that’s it
No more, no less

Lord, I want to go home
Nothing more, nothing less

Advent in our household means there’s no higher joy than our kid being home, safe and sound.

Would we love to have our own ‘Maxwell House long lost son home for the holidays waking the parents up with the aroma of coffee’ version of Christmas? A small part of us would, but then it occurs to us: Graham already beat us home.

Selah, beloved.

From us to you, the happiest of Christmases and the joy of the Spirit of Christ – who is our eternal Home – be yours.