It's Lonely At The Bottom Series

IT’S LONELY AT THE BOTTOM (2 SAMUEL 15)

I have a fresh appreciation for people who can fix things from our experience of moving into a two-bedroom apartment this week (April 29, 2012) after two and a half years in a tiny one-room apartment. The apartment did not have a refrigerator, so Doris’ sister gave us a new refrigerator. When the delivery men plugged the refrigerator in, it rattled and one of them remarked, “It is broken. Call the company to have it changed.” The sellers instead sent a repair man. After repairing the problem fan, he stuck it in a compartment behind the freezer and also comforted us, “40% of new products have problems.” It rattled again before the month was over, and the second person reminded us to ask for a new fan if it were to rattle again.

Another problem we have was an overflowing toilet tank, which a handyman neighbor helped us repair it. The repair was good for two weeks before the same problem reappeared. The problem was fixed six days ago.

The most sentimental part was losing the bride’s hands on our Precious Moments wedding figurine, which we brought back from USA, and discovering that a chair from a praying figurine given to us a year ago was broken. Thanks to a staff, our two broken pieces look like new.

David had a lot of fixing and repairing to do, especially on his relationship with his son Absalom. Absalom was the third son of David; his mother was the third wife of David and his grandfather was the king of Geshur (2 Sam 3:3). The most outstanding, charismatic and ambitious of David’s children, Absalom had the perfect looks, the perfect build and the perfect hair (2 Sam 14:25 “In all Israel there was not a man so highly praised for his handsome appearance as Absalom. From the top of his head to the sole of his foot there was no blemish in him.”), but not the character, temperament and maturity to match it. Passionate, impulsive and headstrong, he avenged his sister Tamar’s rape by killing their half-brother, Amnon (2 Sam 13), the number one son of David (2 Sam 3:1), and fled to his ancestor’s homeland of Geshur. After three years (2 Sam 13:38). Absalom secured permission to return to Jerusalem, but David did not meet or see him for another two years (2 Sam 14:28).

How do we deal with the past, especially one worth forgetting? What can we do in the present? Why is the future an opportunity not to miss or avoid?

Don’t Repeat the Past – Reform It

15:1 In the course of time, Absalom provided himself with a chariot and horses and with fifty men to run ahead of him. 2 He would get up early and stand by the side of the road leading to the city gate. Whenever anyone came with a complaint to be placed before the king for a decision, Absalom would call out to him, “What town are you from?” He would answer, “Your servant is from one of the tribes of Israel.” 3 Then Absalom would say to him, “Look, your claims are valid and proper, but there is no representative of the king to hear you.” 4 And Absalom would add, “If only I were appointed judge in the land! Then everyone who has a complaint or case could come to me and I would see that he gets justice.” 5 Also, whenever anyone approached him to bow down before him, Absalom would reach out his hand, take hold of him and kiss him. 6 Absalom behaved in this way toward all the Israelites who came to the king asking for justice, and so he stole the hearts of the men of Israel. (2 Sam 15:1-6)

Absalom was the product of a failed, ignorant and stubborn parenting method. When son number 1, Amnon, violated his half-sister Tamar, David was furious (very wroth, KJV, as angry as Cain in Genesis 4:5) but it had no impact (2 Sam 13:21). In fact, David’s anger backfired because Absalom turned the anger into hatred (2 Sam 13:22) and revenge.

When I was young I could not understand Absalom’s behavior or control problems despite knowing his father David was very wroth (2 Sam 13:21). This week (Jul 10, 2012) I had a better understanding.

My parents divorced when I was a toddler, definitely before I was in kindergarten. Along with my brother and sister, I lived with my father, who was seldom home, but I saved all my anger and bitterness for my mother, who had moved to another country. We hardly knew each other and I only visited her once a year as a teenager. I often wondered how in the world can a mother leave or abandon her three children. Every time I visited her on a yearly basis I wanted to muster all the courage in me to tell her how shameful, despicable and cowardly she was. Being a nice guy I couldn’t.