Then Joab went to Geshur and brought Absalom back to Jerusalem. But the king said, “He must go to his own house; he must not see my face.” So Absalom went to his own house and did not see the face of the king.
– 2 Samuel 14:23-24
I find the story of David and Absalom incredibly sad. Father and son, both hurting, both stubborn in their own ways, both circling around each other but never really meeting in the middle. It just feels so human, a painfully familiar story.
Absalom kills Amnon. Everything falls apart. And instead of facing the wreckage, he flees from his father, runs to Geshur, and three years pass by. That’s a long time to sit with anger and hurt.
David, meanwhile, finally gets to the point where he wants to reconcile… or at least thinks he does. He sends for Absalom, brings him back to Jerusalem… and then keeps him at arm’s length. “Go to your own house. Don’t come here.” So Absalom lives in the same city but doesn’t see his father’s face for two more years.
Five years total. Five years of silence, distance, pride, confusion, and mixed signals. David’s reconciliation was real in feeling, but only partial in reality. And partial reconciliation has a way of making wounds worse. It breeds resentment. It leaves things unfinished, like a door that’s cracked open but never wide enough to walk through.
I read this story and I feel the ache of it. How easily we do the same thing – extending just enough forgiveness to ease our guilt, but not enough to restore relationship… or offering enough peace to look respectable, but not enough to really heal anything. We long for closeness but protect ourselves from the vulnerability it would require.
But then I remember another King who came from Bethlehem a thousand years after this. And, unlike David, His reconciliation wasn’t half-finished or conditional or timid. Jesus didn’t call us home only to keep us in separate rooms. He didn’t bring us near and then refuse to look at us.
Through Christ, God opens the door fully. He doesn’t just allow us into the city; He brings us into His presence. No five-year silence, no partial welcome. No “you can come back, but stay over there.”
The story of David and Absalom is a picture of human brokenness. But the story of Jesus is a picture of what love looks like when it doesn’t hold back, doesn’t keep score, and brings us fully home.
Former Blackout Artist 