“If only those donkeys had stayed put,” thought Saul out loud to no one in particular, “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for anything. How could God do this to me?”
A few hours earlier Saul had been told that he was to be king of the Israelites. In the moments afterwards he was noticeably full of joy. He felt peaceful. Patient. Kind. Self-controlled. He even felt brave. The journey back to his family was going to be one that he wanted to get over quickly so he could tell everyone the great news, “God’s picked me. A lowly Benjamite! How could I ever deserve such favour!?” He’d recited these words for hours. The hours after that a darkness seemed to move over him. His shoulders began to slump. His tone dropped in pitch and volume.
“I have to be a king,” was the grim realisation.
The stones that crunched under his feet in the hot day on the path home seemed to discourage him more. His foot would often give way to the stones. “If I can’t even overcome these stones…”
Saul knew very well that his people were surrounded by armies that sought vengeance and blood. Israelite blood. War was upon them in this broken and sinful world and Saul openly confessed to himself that he was not up to the task.
It was just after midday when he arrived home. The walls all looked the same. The path was no more worn. The trees and the fields had not burned away but were still swaying very slightly in the warm wind. Yet everything was different. Saul’s Father stood up to great him with tears in his eyes. Saul’s eyes also had tears. These, not for joy.
“My son! Where have you been! The donkeys are back and I feared the worst when you weren’t”
“Don’t worry Father. When I couldn’t find the donkeys my last resort was a man of God in a nearby village. When I arrived this man told me that our donkeys had safely returned and that you were waiting for me. This man also told me… many things.”
“What other things.”
“Things that neither of us need to hear right now. I am returned and the donkeys are returned. This is all we need to know for now.”
Samuel’s Father was perplexed by his Son’s words, but was too overjoyed at the prospect of his return to venture any further with questions.
“My son was dead, now he is alive.”
Yet as the days passed he didn’t seem alive. His head was hanging low. Saul would often be muttering to himself. Isolating himself. Simply getting his duties done. When word came to his home that a king of Israel was to be crowned Saul’s Father prayed to God, “Thank you for this God, please let it lift the spirits of my son. I miss him.”
The journey to the man of God who was to announce the king felt cumbersome. Saul was harsh to the donkeys. Quick to shout at servants and even took a harsh tone with his father. They arrived in town and Saul was instantly lost in the swollen crowd.
Excited voices created a joyful din in the quad. Everyone now and again a loud voice would shout of the greatness of God. Would shout his name and of the great things he had done. Saul’s Father could not see where this voice was coming from but assumed it was the man of God. A hush passed over the crowd. All but one voice carried on. He spoke of a warning. He spoke of great blessing. He spoke the name of the new king. “A Benjamite.” The crowd whispered after this announcement.
“What good can come from a Benjamite tribe?” Saul overheard someone say. He had drifted to the edges of the crowd, and chose this opportunity to drift further away.
A pile of baggage was stowed against a wall. It smelt of preserved food and dust. Saul used it as a cover that no one might sniff him out. “How could you do this to me God?” He asked himself one last time.
“Saul!”
He heard his name. Everyone did. He heard it again. And a third time. Feet were stomping and people cheering.
“SAUL!!!”
Saul pulled the baggage closer to himself. Mumbling about the terrible things that God had done to him. Yet amongst the mumblings there was one honest word. “Grace”. Saul felt that this word didn’t sit right in his mouth so he said it again, “Grace”. In but a moment he remembered the God who had called him. He felt the joy of that God who had fought for his people through all generations. This God who had spoke all things into creation. This God who had never abandoned him. God who, despite not being spoken to, was still listening and waiting for Saul to remember him.
Saul turned his mind, his heart, his words and his tears towards God and away from himself – it was a most uncomfortable thing to do. Yet as he did he felt that the armies of the peoples around him were shrinking. They had no idea who they were up against.
Saul shifted the baggage slightly off himself as it was being pulled away. He did not recognise the face of the man who stared at him now. Saul stood. He spoke with a bravery that no one in earshot could miss or question. The Spirit of the Living God pulsed through his words, simple and short as they were.
“I am here.”
I’ve stroked the hair of the beast. The one that dwells within me. It bids me to move to the places that I do not desire. And yet desire more than I can describe.
Silent Percussion 