By the time Uriah had reached his house, he had managed to calm himself down enough to be reasonable. His pulse still raced, and he had difficulty thinking about anything other than the task at hand, but he felt himself able to at least speak to his wife. Uriah approached the door, hand on the latch, and he suddenly stopped, frozen in place. Fear gripped his heart.
What if it was true? What if King David had taken Bathsheba into his bed? What if they…?
For the first time in a long while, Uriah shook with fear.
He sat down, the world spinning around him. His world was crashing about him. His wife was lost to him. He was sure of it, certain of it. What use would it be to speak to her? Why go in there? Why even ask? Uriah knew the answer to his question, and he feared it. Whether she admitted what she had done or not, he already knew the answer. Why not walk away? Why not leave it all behind him? Why not simply leave?
Uriah—who had never walked away from a battle in his life, who had always faced every enemy head-on, with feet planted and sword drawn, who stood firm against insurmountable odds while others, weaker men, shook with fear and ran away—turned and walked away.
Uriah died that day.
Tags: 2 Samuel, David, honor, Old Testament, sacrifice, Uriah
