She’s a bit of a tragic figure. Life started off pretty good. Born a king’s daughter . . . falls in love with a young military up-and-comer in her father’s army . . . and this young guy was kinda crazy about her too — killing 200 of the enemy’s men as the price for her hand in marriage (1Sam. 18:27). But then things started going south . . .

Her husband and her father, the king, had a falling out — actually it was her father who kind of went off the deep-end, driven by pride, exerting his will and ways above God’s, developing an intense jealousy and hatred for her husband who, in stark contrast, was a man after God’s own heart. One night, her father sent some assassins to take out her husband and she helped him escape (1Sam. 19:12-17). This ticked her father off! So, with her husband on the run, and her father estranged from her, she was then given to another man to be his wife (1Sam. 25:44). Talk about life getting complicated.

Then her dad and brothers are killed in battle . . . and her first husband is made king. And although her first husband has picked up a couple of more wives along the way, he insists that she be torn away from the man who loves her now and forces her to come back to be his wife again. Getting a bit confusing? . . . for me too! Such was the life of Saul’s fifth child, his youngest daughter, Michal.

But with all the dysfunction and tragedy in her life, it’s probably what I read about her this morning which I find the most tragic.

David, the love of her youth, the up-and-comer who loved her once to extremes, the king over all Israel, is bringing up to Jerusalem “the ark of God, who name is called by the Name, the Lord of Hosts, who dwells between the cherubim” (2Sam. 6:2). There is tremendous joy in the city as the dwelling place of the glory of God is being brought into their midst. There is music . . . there is singing . . . there is dancing . . . there is David at the front of it all. But Michal is not there . . . she’s in the royal residence watching from a window . . . and, as she watches the procession before the ark, and she sees King David “leaping and whirling before the Lord” . . . “she despised him in her heart” (2Sam. 6:16). She thought he had made a fool of himself . . . he had put off his royal garments . . . he danced with the servants . . . she thought it was behavior beneath a king. And so, instead of entering into the joy of God’s presence . . . instead of embracing the fellowship of praise and worship . . . she focused on the king and held him in contempt for the manner in which he humbled himself. That, to me, is the most tragic part of Michal’s life.

I’m not sitting in judgment of Michal. She was the daughter of a self-absorbed king, probably a few “pride genes” naturally woven into her DNA. And, she was also the victim of a ton of circumstance that quite imaginably left a bit of a root of bitterness in her heart as well. Pride . . . bitterness . . . and whatever else, prevented her from entering into the joy of the Lord. Almost everything in her life disappointed . . . and then, when the one thing that would never disappoint, the Presence of God, was made available, she missed it . . . was distracted by her perception of “conduct unbefitting a king” . . . and rather than the healing balm of joy touching her heart, instead, contempt was added to her pride and bitterness. “Therefore,” the Scripture says, “Michal the daughter of Saul had no children to the day of her death” (1Sam. 6:23). Having rejected the joy of God’s presence, she lived out her life absent His favor, as well. Like I said, she’s a bit of a tragic figure.

Not sure what to do with these thoughts. My heart goes out to the Michals . . . those whose life has been one struggle after another . . . who have known one disappointment after another . . . infected by bitterness . . . anesthetized by a sense of despair . . . hardened by pride and a “me first” focus. But, what I do know, is that at some point, the Presence of God offers to come into their lives. There will be opportunities to trade sorrow for joy . . . to trade disappointment for the promises of God which never fail . . . to trade lament for worship . . . to take eyes off of self and direct them to the One who loves them so much He sent His Son to die for their redemption.

Oh, that we might not become Michals . . . but that we would emulate, instead, the spirit of David . . . rejoicing in the Presence of the Lord . . . making music in our hearts with praise on our lips . . . willing to become “undignified” . . . to humble ourselves in our own eyes . . . that He might be worshiped in the beauty of holiness . . . for our blessing . . . for His glory . . . for eternity . . . amen!