The Desolation of Tamar

By Danny Saavedra

“Then Amnon hated her with intense hatred. In fact, he hated her more than he had loved her. Amnon said to her, ‘Get up and get out!’ ‘No!’ she said to him. ‘Sending me away would be a greater wrong than what you have already done to me.’ But he refused to listen to her. He called his personal servant and said, ‘Get this woman out of my sight and bolt the door after her.’ So his servant put her out and bolted the door after her. She was wearing an ornate robe, for this was the kind of garment the virgin daughters of the king wore. Tamar put ashes on her head and tore the ornate robe she was wearing. She put her hands on her head and went away, weeping aloud as she went. Her brother Absalom said to her, ‘Has that Amnon, your brother, been with you? Be quiet for now, my sister; he is your brother. Don’t take this thing to heart.’ And Tamar lived in her brother Absalom’s house, a desolate woman. When King David heard all this, he was furious. And Absalom never said a word to Amnon, either good or bad; he hated Amnon because he had disgraced his sister Tamar.”—2 Samuel 13:15-22 (NIV)

Have you ever seen a show where someone just absolutely nails it? Like they were born for that part—they rise to the occasion, deliver the perfect line, make the perfect move.

Amnon. David. Absalom. Three assignments...all failed. The one who needed them to understand the assignment—Tamar—was left desolate, devastated, and discarded.

Amnon said he loved her, but it was lust disguised as desire, twisted into an obsession that brought about unspeakable evil. When Tamar resisted, reasoned, pleaded, and prophetically warned him, he overpowered her. And after he got what he wanted, he hated her and dehumanized her—he called her "this woman" and cast her out.

David heard what happened, was furious, but did nothing—no justice, no comfort, no action. Maybe shame over Bathsheba muted him. Maybe guilt over his own sins immobilized him. But silence is not neutrality—it’s negligence.

Absalom knew what had happened the moment Tamar came home in tears, robe torn, and ashes on her head. And yet, his response was chilling: “Be quiet for now, my sister. Don’t take this thing to heart." Absalom wasn’t comforting her; he was controlling the narrative.

And then there’s Tamar. She was a princess: beautiful, pure, wise, and faithful. When summoned, she served Amnon with a servant’s heart. When his true intent was revealed, she didn’t panic; she reasoned—bear in mind she was likely 14-18 at this time. She invoked God’s law, warned him of the consequences, and fought back. When she was violated, she still sought to hold Amnon to the biblical standard. And when he didn’t, she mourned as Scripture teaches—tearing her robe, putting ashes on her head, and weeping aloud.

The only person in this story who understood their assignment was Tamar, and she was silenced. She wanted justice—Absalom told her to keep quiet. She needed comfort—David gave her none. She deserved a future—Amnon stole it from her, and the culture deemed her tainted goods.

"So Tamar lived, a desolate woman in her brother Absalom’s house.” She was shattered in body, in soul, and in future...never married or mentioned again. As far as we’re concerned, her story ended in silence, forgotten and ignored.

But not to God.

Psalm 34:18 (NIV) says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted." Psalm 68:5 (NIV) calls Him a "defender of widows" and a "father to the fatherless." Isaiah 61 declares that He binds up the brokenhearted and gives beauty for ashes.

We don’t see what God did for Tamar in the text, but we know who He is. I know in my heart that El Roi saw her, El Shama heard her, Yahweh Rapha offered healing, Yahweh Jireh provided, and Yahweh Tsuri was her rock. Maybe He used servants of Absalom’s house, maybe He sent Nathan, maybe He sent angels to minister to her, or maybe He spoke to her in whispers in the darkest moments. It doesn’t need to be recorded to be real, because 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (NKJV) says He’s “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation.”

So, where does this leave us? Well, it leaves us with this need to understand our assignment. The church hasn’t always understood the assignment regarding the Tamars around us—those silenced after rape, discarded after abortion, left behind after abuse.

When evil happens...we cannot mimic David’s passive silence; we must call it out. When injustice is done, we mustn’t be like Absalom, stewing in bitterness or plotting vengeance. We must pursue real justice, real righteousness, and real truth. When the Amnons and Jonadabs rise up in our communities, churches, schools, or even in our homes, we must confront in love and truth and fight to right wrongs in a way that honors Christ. But most importantly, we must never forget the Tamars. We must never overlook the ones left weeping in the corner, covered in ashes, with robes torn and hearts shattered.

Consider the abortion issue for a minute. We have to be honest about what’s actually happening. The vast majority of women who walk into clinics aren’t loud activists with TikTok slogans or Capitol Hill microphones. They’re often scared, pressured, conflicted, experiencing guilt, shame, depression, anxiety, regret, and suicidal thoughts. Listen to these voices:

“I didn’t choose abortion. I just didn’t feel like I had any other choice.”

“I felt like a part of me died that day.”

“No one told me how I would feel afterward.”

Is abortion a tragedy? Yes. Is it wrong? Yes. But what should our response be? We must speak out for the unborn, but we must also be a refuge for the women left behind with pain that lingers long after. Remember, it’s God’s kindness that leads to repentance and repentance to transformation.

What about the survivors of sexual abuse, assault, and incest? Often, victims are blamed and silenced. Like Absalom, many have protected institutions instead of individuals. But that must end. We must confront evil, especially when it hides in our midst. And even more than that, we must care for survivors with tenderness, consistency, and gospel-anchored compassion. We must be the first place a victim thinks to run, not the last...the top hospital in the neighborhood; the healing place of Jesus.

And we must partner with parents to raise up our sons to be Josephs and Jonathans, not Amnons or Jonadabs. As Paul told Titus, “Encourage the young men to be self-controlled. In everything set them an example by doing what is good” (Titus 2:6-7). If we do this faithfully, there’ll be fewer Amnons, which means there’ll also be fewer Tamars.

May the church be the hands and feet of Jesus to write the story Tamar deserved.

Pause: Where have you stayed silent when you should’ve spoken? Who in your life needs someone to fight for them?

Practice: Take one specific, tangible action this week to create a safe space for someone hurting. That may look like texting a friend who’s been distant and just saying, “I’m here whenever you need to talk.” It could be checking in with someone you know who is walking through trauma, or volunteering with a ministry that helps victims of abuse or those in crisis. Educate yourself on trauma-informed care, and make a plan for how you’ll respond if someone ever confides something painful to you. Don’t wait for a crisis to act—be ready. If you’ve been Tamar, take one courageous step toward healing: tell someone safe, call a counselor, or reach out for prayer. And if you’ve been more like David or Absalom—passive, silent, or withdrawn—repent, and ask God to make you someone who shows up, speaks up, and stands in the gap for the broken.

Pray: Our dear Jesus, just as You prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, we lift up all who reflect these roles today.

We pray for the Amnons...those who’ve done harm. Break their hearts with godly sorrow. Lead them to confess, repent, face justice, and be transformed by Your mercy. May they be like Saul, who turned into Paul: humbled, broken, and reborn.

We pray for the Davids...fathers, pastors, mentors. Wake them from silence. Help them model Christlike integrity, teach the next generation to reject temptation, power, and sinful desire, and protect the vulnerable with tenderness and strength.

We pray for the Absaloms...those burning with anger. Don’t let them stew in silence or seek revenge. Lead them toward true justice with wisdom and compassion. Help them remember Tamar, the person who needs them most.

And we pray for the Tamars. God, may they be seen, heard, and embraced. Surround them with Your presence and people. Bring comfort, safety, and healing through Your church. Restore their dignity and remind them they’re never alone.

Make Your church a refuge, a safe house, a family of justice, mercy, and healing. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.