Sitting at the King’s Table

“ Open up in the name of the King!”
The command was accompanied by the persistent pounding of the door and reverberated throughout the house. He sat motionless as fear clutched his heart. He had known this day was coming, but it still came as a shock. He knew of the common practice for the reigning king to execute every member of the previous dynasty. He was certain death awaited him. It had not been long since his reigning uncle, Isbosheth, had been murdered through the betrayal of his own advisors. Now, he was the last link in the line of Saul. David, the son of Jesse had ascended the throne.
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Are you Mephibosheth, son of Jonathan?” the captain of the guard asked.
“I am,” he replied nervously.
“The King has sent for you.”
It would be useless to resist. He couldn’t run if he tried. He looked down at his lame feet and was reminded of the accident so many years before. He had kept the memories of his early childhood, the happiest time of his life, as if in a vault. They were like rare jewels—few and precious. As if on cue, they began to play in the theatre of his mind and he realized how much he missed his father. He remembered running throughout the palace grounds under his father’s careful watch, and when he would grow tired, his father would carry him on his shoulders back to the palace.
He was five years old when the news reached his household that both his father and grandfather had been killed fighting the Philistines. In her haste to flee from danger, his nurse had dropped him, crippling him. He had every right to be bitter. Yet, he had resolved in his heart to accept things as they were, not grieving over what could have been.
Now here he was, lying prostrate before the king, waiting for the death sentence.
“Mephibosheth?,”the king asked.
“Here is your servant,” he answered.
“Do not fear for, as God is my witness, I made a covenant vow to your father, Jonathan, to show my favour to all his generations. Therefore I have restored to you all the land of your grandfather, Saul, and you shall sit at the King’s table from this day forward.”
“But I am half a man. Who am I that you should show such kindness to me?” Mephibosheth asked, as he bowed again before the king. Before he could right himself, he felt two strong hands grip his shoulders and lift him to his feet, carefully providing the support he needed. The king had stepped down from his throne and now held Mephibosheth in a warm embrace.
He pulled away long enough to gaze into Mephibosheth’s eyes. “My covenant with your father is established forever. All I am and all I have are yours. Your presence at my table is the fulfilment of that covenant. You shall be as one of the king’s sons.
“How can I repay all you have done for me?”
King David, with his arm still around Mephibosheth’s shoulders, replied, “A father does not require payment for a gift he freely bestows on his son.”
They paused long enough to retrieve Mephibosheth’s crutches before leaving for the banquet hall.
“Sir….”
Mephibosheth stopped and looked up into the King’s face once more.
“Please, tell me about my father?”

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About Katherine Wacker

Katherine Wacker is currently a reviewer for Bethany House Publishers, and Howard Books. She is a Craftsman graduate of the Jerry B. Jenkins Christian Writer’s Guild. She holds a B.A in History from San Diego State-Imperial Valley Campus. In her spare time she likes to read books, watch sports, and do jigsaw puzzles. She lives at home with her parents and three dogs, Charlie, Roscoe and Daisy.
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2 Responses to Sitting at the King’s Table

  1. Anne Watson says:

    Wonderful! You are a gifted writer, Katherine. Keep them coming.
    For the King,
    Anne

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