Bible Studies

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On a treasure hunt through the closing verses of 2 Samuel 24, each precious jewel unearthed shot praises through my soul. Priceless gems fell one by one into my outstretched hand as God’s promise and presence unearthed itself in each mighty man protecting Israel: My Father is Help, Jehovah Has Built, For the Rejoicing of Jehovah, God is My Father, Strong Unto Death, Jehovah Has Given, God is Deliverance, God is Kinsman, He Redeems and on and on.

No wonder the enemy could not stand against David and the armies of Israel. Each swing of the sword, each arrow directed at the enemy’s heart, declared His Name. The power and the might of His presence fell, and the enemy lay vanquished.

Thirty-seven precious jewels, and the treasure grew beyond my imagining. At last my eyes fell upon the last, the greatest treasure, Jehovah is My Light. And my soul sang, ‘til in the midst of its song came a shuddering stop. Awareness fell. I stood transfixed.

Jehovah is My Light betrayed by the darkness of desire’s dance. The treasure of Uriah lay within my trembling hand and my heart knew an unexpected piercing in the midst of my joy. A piercing of God’s jewel, and as it darkened, its light gone out, I knew myself the slayer of God’s provision.

David wasn’t the only killer of Uriah.


Desire casts its seed on every ground, even the soil of one after God’s own heart.David, failing to ‘take captive’ his desire, sacrificed one of his own mighty men. Jehovah is My Light, uniquely gifted by God’s own hand to protect Israel, to protect David, to emasculate desire rested trustingly within David’s walls. But desire’s dance felt no restraint within that ‘gifted’ heart. The dance consumed all. Grace, rejected! Uriah, slain!

And I’m left before a mirror that reflects too well. Reflects other Uriah’s slain, and my own hands bloodied among the fallen dead. Dead because I shared desire’s dance. Corpse-strewn battlefields where I’d pleaded for God’s provision to stop the dying, only to see reflected in the mirror Jehovah is My Light lying lifeless at my blood-smeared feet.



Oh Lord, all good things come from Your hand, and You’ve promised provision for every need, protection in every battle. Yet I look at myself. My woundedness I can’t avoid seeing. And I wonder at it. I wonder at the open wounds still fresh and bleeding upon those I cherish, upon the crippling that mars their journey, and my heart fears to ask. ‘Is the woundedness caused by my own Uriah slain? Has the impassioned pursuing of my own desires been the death knell to the provision You had already rendered for my needs?’

Divine Heart, alone my Grace and Mercy, forgive the impetuous choices, ‘denial cloaked,’ that unknowingly rejected the protection from Your hand. Open my heart to obey You more, casting away the desires that would ensnare my steps and would turn my heart from Your grace. Create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me.



© 26 April 2005
DeAnna Brooks

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