Don't Wait to Make Peace

By Deb Marsalisi

“In all Israel there was not a man so highly praised for his handsome appearance as Absalom. From the top of his head to the sole of his foot there was no blemish in him. Whenever he cut the hair of his head—he used to cut his hair once a year because it became too heavy for him—he would weigh it, and its weight was two hundred shekels by the royal standard. Three sons and a daughter were born to Absalom. His daughter’s name was Tamar, and she became a beautiful woman. Absalom lived two years in Jerusalem without seeing the king’s face. Then Absalom sent for Joab in order to send him to the king, but Joab refused to come to him. So he sent a second time, but he refused to come. Then he said to his servants, ‘Look, Joab’s field is next to mine, and he has barley there. Go and set it on fire.’ So Absalom’s servants set the field on fire. Then Joab did go to Absalom’s house, and he said to him, ‘Why have your servants set my field on fire?’ Absalom said to Joab, ‘Look, I sent word to you and said, “Come here so I can send you to the king to ask, ‘Why have I come from Geshur? It would be better for me if I were still there!’” Now then, I want to see the king’s face, and if I am guilty of anything, let him put me to death.’ So Joab went to the king and told him this. Then the king summoned Absalom, and he came in and bowed down with his face to the ground before the king. And the king kissed Absalom.”—2 Samuel 14:25-33 (NIV)

Have you ever read something that stirs you in ways you weren’t expecting? Well, preparing this devotional brought me unsettling grief. Why grief, you may ask? As I step onto the landscape of this narrative, I’m well acquainted with the emotions that rise off the page from Absalom. I’m aware Absalom is often talked about as the villain, the rebel, and that perspective is valid; however, my heart still aches for him. I’ve battled with the very things that seem to plague his heart—unbridled emotions, anger, bitterness, unforgiveness, and much more. The lesson we’re to learn from this dysfunctional family is that an unwillingness to work through these emotions with God and others brings a whirlwind of destruction.

My heart hurts for Absalom because he clearly loved his sister. Absalom’s journey to rebellion began with the desire to protect and provide justice for Tamar after being raped and discarded by their half-brother Amnon. His compassion and tenderness for her ran deep. He knew this act of violence was akin to a death sentence for women in this ancient culture, that she’d be forever viewed as damaged goods, unable to marry and bear children. Survival as a single woman in this culture was nearly impossible. Metaphorically speaking, Amnon murdered his sister. This was devastatingly unjust.

We’re people who are wired for justice. As moral beings, we want and even expect society to act righteously in the cruel face of injustice, to rise up and fight for the oppressed. This is why we’re drawn to literature where good triumphs over evil.

Absalom felt righteous anger over his sister’s rape. When righteousness turns to wrath, a spiritual war is waged. Many modern Bible translations incorrectly use anger and wrath interchangeably. They aren’t the same. Think of wrath as the unholy cousin of righteous anger.

The Bible teaches us, “Be angry, and do not sin: do not let the sun go down on your wrath, nor give place to the devil” (Ephesians 4:26-27 NKJV). For two years, Absalom watches King David do nothing. Imagine: Your son rapes your daughter, and you’re the king and do nothing! This passivity towards injustice plunges Absalom into deep bitterness—and bitterness turns to unforgiveness, the premeditated murder of Amnon, and finally several treacherous attempts to throw the kingdom into an insurrection, hoping to usurp the throne.

Absalom’s anger is part of the human experience. However, unchecked, unresolved anger can quickly spiral out of control and give opportunity for the devil to do what he does best: kill, steal, and destroy. This is why we’re warned in Hebrews 12:15 (NIV): “See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.”

In today’s passage, we see Absalom is desperately trying to get his father’s attention; desperate for his father to initiate reconciliation. The cry of his heart is, “Why did you even bother to bring me home, if we weren’t going to resolve this?!” No doubt it’s because David’s still angry over the murder of Amnon.

When we avoid hard conversations, we invite deeper wounds. We’re called to be initiators of peace. Don’t wait to make peace. Unresolved anger quietly matures into bitterness—and bitterness never stays silent. When we bury pain instead of bringing it into the light, it festers. But God, in His mercy, invites us to tend to our hearts. In forgiveness, we don’t just let go of wrath; we make space for healing.

Pause: Are you wrestling with righteous anger that has turned to wrath? Do you need to repent from bitterness and unforgiveness? Have you been avoiding resolving conflicts? It was a five-year period between Absalom fleeing, returning, and having a face-to-face moment with David. Don’t wait to make peace. Don’t let the sun go down on your wrath.

Practice: If there’s someone in your life you know you need to reconcile with or forgive, let this area of Scripture remind you that today is the day. Unresolved conflict can lead to festering unforgiveness and wrath. Matthew 5:9 (NIV) says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” Ask God to lead and guide you to have hard conversations.

Pray: Dear heavenly Father, please help me this week to read each Bible story with an eagerness to learn from other people’s mistakes and successes. Your Word is a mirror to my soul—I can always count on it for holy conviction. Please change me and shape me into Your image. Help me to have hard conversations this week for the sake of making peace. Go before me with grace, love, and truth. In the mighty name of Jesus, I pray. Amen.