The Heart Of The Matter Series

The last time we were together, I told the story of Ruth and Boaz. We learned of how Boaz was her redeemer and mirrored what Jesus would do for us one day.

The nation of Israel had taken possession of the land promised to them but they disobeyed God by not driving out all the nations that were in the land. Soon they were worshipping other gods. So God allowed them to be defeated and captured in their battles. Then God would raise up leaders, called judges, to rescue them from the hands of their enemy.

For 335 years Israel would continue this cycle. Disobedience, defeat and oppression, rescue in the form of a judge. There would be a total of 15 judges in all. Some would be come well known. Judges such as Deborah, Gideon, Samson, and the last judge, Samuel.

When Samuel had grown old, he appointed his sons to follow him. But they were dishonest and not trusted by the people. So the nation of Israel demanded a king. This displeased God because He desired to be their king and it was He they were rejecting. So He told Samuel to appoint them a king.

God led Samuel to a man that the Bible describes as “the most handsome man in Israel—head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the land.” He was 30 years old and would reign for 42 years.

However, Saul disobeyed God by promoting himself into a priestly role and offering a burnt sacrifice before going into a battle. Samuel scolded Saul for what he had done. He informed Saul that his reign would have been established over Israel for all time. Instead, these are the prophetic words spoken to Saul.

1 Samuel 13:14 “But now your kingdom must end, for the Lord has sought out a man after his own heart. The Lord has already appointed him to be the leader of his people, because you have not kept the Lord’s command.”

This will be our next character. The first king was appointed at the insistence of the people. This king would be the one chosen by God. The first king was chosen because of his outward appearance. This king would be chosen because of his heart.

He is the great-great-grandson of Boaz and Ruth. His name is David.

Before we begin to look at David’s life, let me share a love story with you. SOURCE: Max Lucado, "The People With the Roses," Chapter 19 in And the Angels Were Silent (Portland, OR: Multnomah, 1992)

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn’t, the girl with the rose.

His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner’s name, Miss Hollis Maynell.

With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding.

Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like.

When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting-7:00 p.m. at the Grand Central Station in New York. “You’ll recognize me,” she wrote, “by the red rose I’ll be wearing on my lapel.”

I’ll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.

“Going my way, sailor?” she murmured.

Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell.

She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own.