David could hear the crowd before he could see them. The streets of Jerusalem were crowded with well-wishers, children, and families, all of them cheering. The king had seen it so many times before. He was surrounded by his people: runners out front, then his sons on black horses, and then David, riding a huge white stallion. He wore robes with golden thread and a crown he only put on for special occasions. Today he could not get that thing off soon enough.
They came through the city gates. The cheering crowds sounded like pandemonium. Like thunder on this cloudless golden morning. David waved at the people. He smiled, though he did not feel it. He had so much to be grateful for. He knew that. But some days were so hard. No one knew what it was like to be the king, to carry the weight of a nation on your shoulders. No one understood. Sometimes David thought of crazy old Saul. A part of David imagined it would be nice to talk to him. At least the old man would understand what David was going through. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
The entourage made a few turns and was soon at the palace. David hopped off his horse while it was still moving. He handed the reins to one servant, the crown to another, his golden robes to a third. He walked quickly through the rooms and hallways until he reached his private study.
“No visitors,” he said to his valet. “Keep everyone away.”
Once he was alone, he went to his small harp, strumming a bit. There was no music in him. He was frustrated. “Oh, wake up harp!” He went to his desk and reached for writing instruments. Sometimes a journal helped. He began slowly, then soon was pouring his heart out on parchment.
Wake up, harp and lyre. I want to praise God in the morning—this morning. I want to praise God among the crowds out there. God, I know your mercy is great. You should be exalted, not me. You should be exalted above the heavens. Your glory is over the whole world. But oh, God. Give us help from trouble. Because you know the help I receive from men is worthless (Psalm 108:2-5,12).
Lord, I know you will take care of your anointed. You will tell your Messiah to sit down at your right hand while you turn his enemies into a footrest (110:1). But I need you to rescue me too!
God, I know I will survive with you to rescue me. My soul will escape like a bird from a snare. You are my help, God. You are the King who made heaven and earth (124:7-8).
David stopped writing and hummed a bit. It was part of his songwriting process. But music would not come. He was upset, yet unemotional. Blocked somehow. He wanted to sing. Singing always made him feel better. He began to write again.
I want to praise you with my heart. I know you will protect me from trouble. I know your hand will stop my enemies. Your right will save me again. I know it will! (138:7). Save me from evil men, God! Save me from these violent men who plot against me and plan my ruin. They want to overthrow me! But I know you will preserve me again, as you always have (140:1-4). Deliver me! Rescue me! All I can do is run to you! Bring my soul out of this. Save me for your name’s sake, please! You know I am only here because of you. Saving me will bring you glory! (143:8-12).
David put his head down on the desk. He dropped the reed he wrote with and wrapped his arms around his head, groaning. Then he sat back suddenly, looking straight at the ceiling, frustrated. He spoke out loud. “Oh, God! I just want to fight! Outright war is so much easier than this life of drama and intrigue!” Then he remembered the people outside. The palace was filled with eavesdroppers, and he would not give them the satisfaction. He calmed his anger and picked up the reed.
I bless you, God. Blessed be the Lord. You are my strength. You teach my hands to fight. You train my fingers for battle. But I need you. Bend the heavens. Come down. Touch the mountains. Make them smoke as in the days of Moses. Hurl lightning bolts at my enemies. Shoot arrows and destroy them. Save me from the unpredictable, deceptive people. Then my sons will be like cedar trees. Then my daughters will be corner stones. Then our sheep and oxen will be strong and there will be enough for everyone. And then there will be no more complaining in the streets. When you rescue us, the whole nation will prosper! Happy is such a people! Happy is the nation whose God is the Lord! (144:1,5-6,11-15).
David stood up. He wiped his eyes. He was better, his burden lifted. He picked up his old harp. The music came easily.
After he poured out his heart to God, God gave him his heart back. God gave him his music back. And David felt a tiny spark of joy inside. His problems were not solved. But he found relief when he took the time to pour out his heart to God. And David found joy in his music, just as King Saul found joy in his music so many years before.
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