And the king was deeply moved and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept. And as he went, he said, "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!"
Absalom had turned against his father, led a rebellion, tried to take his throne by force. When news comes that he's dead, David doesn't celebrate a threat removed. He climbs to a private room and weeps out loud: O my son Absalom, would I had died instead of you.
This is a father grieving a son who betrayed him, wishing he could have taken the death himself. It's not a tidy, deserved sort of love. It's love that keeps going even after every reason to withhold it.
If you carry guilt about someone you've hurt, or if you've wondered whether you're still lovable after the worst thing you've done, this scene is worth sitting with. David's grief for Absalom is a small, human echo of something this whole story keeps circling back to — love that doesn't wait for you to deserve it first.
If you've wondered whether you're still lovable after your worst moment, what would it mean if the answer were already yes?
A short video on this is coming soon — for now, read on.