Joab son of Zeruiah knew that the king, deep down, still cared for Absalom. So he sent to Tekoa for a wise woman who lived there and instructed her, “Pretend you are in mourning. Dress in black and don’t comb your hair, so you’ll look like you’ve been grieving over a dead loved one for a long time. Then go to the king and tell him this . . . ” Joab then told her exactly what to say.
The woman of Tekoa went to the king, bowed deeply before him in homage, and said, “O King, help!”
He said, “How can I help?”
“I’m a widow,” she said. “My husband is dead. I had two sons. The two of them got into a fight out in the field and there was no one around to step between them. The one struck the other and killed him. Then the whole family ganged up against me and demanded, ‘Hand over this murderer so we can kill him for the life of the brother he murdered!’ They want to wipe out the heir and snuff out the one spark of life left to me. And then there would be nothing left of my husband—not so much as a name—on the face of the earth.
“So now I’ve dared come to the king, my master, about all this. They’re making my life miserable, and I’m afraid. I said to myself, ‘I’ll go to the king. Maybe he’ll do something! When the king hears what’s going on, he’ll step in and rescue me from the abuse of the man who would get rid of me and my son and God’s inheritance—the works!’ As your handmaid, I decided ahead of time, ‘The word of my master, the king, will be the last word in this, for my master is like an angel of God in discerning good and evil.’ GOD be with you!”
The king said, “Go home, and I’ll take care of this for you.”
“I’ll take all responsibility for what happens,” the woman of Tekoa said. “I don’t want to compromise the king and his reputation.”
“Bring the man who has been harassing you,” the king continued. “I’ll see to it that he doesn’t bother you anymore.”
“Let the king invoke the name of GOD,” said the woman, “so this self-styled vigilante won’t ruin everything, to say nothing of killing my son.”
“As surely as GOD lives,” he said, “not so much as a hair of your son’s head will be lost.”
Then she asked, “May I say one more thing to my master, the king?”
He said, “Go ahead.”
“Why, then,” the woman said, “have you done this very thing against God’s people? In his verdict, the king convicts himself by not bringing home his exiled son. We all die sometime. Water spilled on the ground can’t be gathered up again. But God does not take away life. He works out ways to get the exile back.”
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