The Return of the King

By Danny Saavedra

“Throughout the tribes of Israel, all the people were arguing among themselves, saying, ‘The king delivered us from the hand of our enemies; he is the one who rescued us from the hand of the Philistines. But now he has fled the country to escape from Absalom; and Absalom, whom we anointed to rule over us, has died in battle. So why do you say nothing about bringing the king back?’ King David sent this message to Zadok and Abiathar, the priests: ‘Ask the elders of Judah, “Why should you be the last to bring the king back to his palace, since what is being said throughout Israel has reached the king at his quarters? You are my relatives, my own flesh and blood. So why should you be the last to bring back the king?” And say to Amasa, “Are you not my own flesh and blood? May God deal with me, be it ever so severely, if you are not the commander of my army for life in place of Joab.”’ He won over the hearts of the men of Judah so that they were all of one mind. They sent word to the king, ‘Return, you and all your men.’ Then the king returned and went as far as the Jordan.”—2 Samuel 19:9-15a (NIV)

Have you ever been caught in that awkward tension where you know what the right thing to do is, but you’re hesitant to act because you’re not sure how it’ll turn out? You want to move forward, but fear, pride, or regret keeps you frozen. That’s exactly where Israel is in 2 Samuel 19.

The civil war is over.

Absalom is dead.

The rebellion has been crushed.

And yet...the kingdom isn’t whole. The tribes are arguing among themselves. The text says “all the people were arguing.”The Hebrew word here, riv (רִיב), tells us that this wasn’t a casual debate. It’s the language of lawsuits and legal disputes. There’s division and uncertainty, and guilt hangs over them like a storm cloud. They know David’s the rightful king. They admit, “The king delivered us from the hand of our enemies.” They remember his victories—the Philistines, Goliath, all of it—but they also remember their betrayal. They backed the wrong king, and now they’re unsure how David will respond if they call him back. Will he forgive or punish them?

Then comes the piercing question: “Why do you say nothing about bringing the king back?” David isn’t in a rush. He doesn’t storm Jerusalem. He doesn’t demand their allegiance or march in with an army. He waits...for an invitation. It’s a moment that feels eerily familiar, not just in ancient Israel but in our own hearts.

Think about it. How many times have we crowned false kings in our lives? How many times have we worshiped at the altar of success, relationships, comfort, or even our own pride, only to find ourselves in a dry and divided place? We know Jesus is the rightful King. We remember His victories, His deliverance, and His faithfulness...but something keeps us from crying out to Him in repentance. Why do we do this?

Perhaps it’s shame—we don’t feel worthy to return to Him, and thus we keep our distance. Maybe it’s pride or fear. So, like Israel, we hesitate...unsure if the King will welcome us back or confront us for our rebellion. Guilt whispers we’ve gone too far, pride insists we can fix things on our own, and comfort tells us it’s easier to let lesser rulers stay on the throne.

This tension reminds me of two iconic stories about kings in exile.

In The Lion King, Simba is the heir to Pride Rock. But when tragedy strikes, he runs away, crippled by guilt and fear. Under Scar’s false rule, the land withers. It’s only when Nala seeks him out and says, “Simba, you have to take your place as king,” that he finally begins to stir. At first, Simba hesitates—ashamed of his past; afraid of what it will cost. But as he remembers who he really is, he steps forward. And when he returns, the Pride Lands start to heal.

In The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn is the rightful king of Gondor. But he doesn’t grab power. He serves in humility, fights courageously, and waits for the people to acknowledge him as their king. Only after the great victory do the people cry out, “Behold, the king has come again!”

David’s story in 2 Samuel reflects both Simba and Aragorn, but it ultimately points us to the truer King—Jesus Christ. The Hebrew word for “anointed” in verse 10 is mashiach (מָשִׁיחַ)—Messiah. God anointed David, and then Judah, and then finally the rest of Israel...but Israel also anointed Absalom. It’s a sobering reminder of how easily we settle for counterfeits.

And here’s where Jesus surpasses David. David lingered in Mahanaim while others fought for his return. Jesus didn’t wait in safety. He entered enemy territory, laid down His life, and rose again to reclaim His kingdom—not by force but through self-giving love. And when it comes to Jesus, He isn’t a King who storms in to crush us.

Now, He stands at the door and knocks...waiting for hearts to invite Him in (Revelation 3:20) or repent and submit again to Him. Jesus isn’t a King who storms in to crush us. He’s the King who comes with scars on His hands—the One who laid down His life to redeem rebels and restore exiles.

So, where are you right now? Is He seated on the throne of your heart, or have you anointed lesser masters? If so, don’t wait another minute. Repent and come humbly. He’ll welcome you back and rule over You with the same love, grace, and kindness that put Him on the cross!

Pause: Where have you hesitated to let Jesus reign fully in your life? What fears or distractions keep you from saying, “Bring back the King?"

Practice: Today, raise a banner for your King. Invite Him into the places where you’ve resisted Him.

Pray: Jesus, I’ve made it about so many other things. I’ve let other kings rule in places that belong to You alone. But today I’m coming back to the heart of worship. I want You to be the center again...my King, my Savior, my everything. Bring me back, restore what’s broken, and lead me in Your way. In Your name I pray. Amen.