From High to Lo-debar places

?

It was a hot summer afternoon, and everything happened so fast.

I was sitting on my bed when I heard people in the palace wailing, and someone shouted "The king is dead!"

The King they spoke of was my grandfather, he didn't treat my dad well, my mother was nowhere to be seen, and yeah ... I didn't exactly like him but not to the point of wishing for his death.

My dad had accompanied him to the battlefield.

"God if you can hear me, please keep my father safe."

Then, my nanny rushed into my room and picked me up.

She was panicking.

"My prince we have to leave, the enemies are.. the enemies are here and your, your father is dead."

She was crying.

'God didn't hear me' is all I could think.

We were almost out of the palace when my nanny tripped and I fell down the steps.

' Maybe God is angry that I thought he didn't hear me'.?

"If you can still hear me please let me die here", are the words that left my mouth before I fainted.

Pain is what I felt, lots of it. I thought there wouldn't be pain in Heaven, why am I hurting?

My nose picked up an awful smell, where am I?

I opened my eyes.

My nanny was asleep by my side, we were on the floor of a shack, and by the door was trash.

"Why am I here?"

Realizing that I was still alive released the dam of tears I was holding back.

I cried at the loss of my father, mother, home, and happiness.

I cried because I wanted to believe there was a God who cared for us but it didn't look that way.

I cried because crying is all a 5-year-old boy like me could do.

The years that followed were a nightmare.

I was now permanently crippled because of the accident.

Since I was a threat to whoever was king I had to take on a different identity.

I was now a disabled boy whose mother was a maid(my nanny) living in the most impoverished part of my country.

The kids in that area took every chance to bully me.

I didn't speak like them.

I could read.

My skin was fair.

My eyes and hair were the color of the tribe linked to royalty.

But I was lame.

I was called all kinds of things, none of which were pleasant.

I eventually stopped seeing anything good in myself.

Fifteen years later.

I managed to earn a living by teaching children in that area how to read and write.

There was a lady who brought her younger siblings every single day to learn except on the Sabbath and having seen what reading could do she joined my class.

We began talking.

Unlike me, this slum was her home and the only world she had known.

For the first time, I met someone other than my adopted mum who talked to me without hate, contempt, or suspicion.

In her eyes I wasn't some man with a disability, I was me.

I thought? 'If God wanted to make up for the years my life had been a disaster, having her would be enough'.

Her family said she was making a mistake, to marry someone like me would only bring her shame.

Those words cut deep because my original name meant, " from the mouth of shame".

Not wanting to make her an outcast like I was, I pleaded with her to find someone else.

"Your family is right, I will only bring you misery and bad luck."

" Misery is the world I knew before meeting you, I am not going to leave your side."

" GOD is with us."

Her eyes didn't lie. She wasn't going to give up on us.

'I thought God was with me and the people I cared about but look at what that has done for us...' is what I wanted to say but didn't.?

I will believe in her hope because that is what feels real right now.

And that was it.

I thought that would be the end, we would lead a quiet and happy life in a space where nobody would trouble us.

Until one day, royal soldiers showed up at our house.

She was tying the bundles of wheat we bought, and I was sitting with our son.

They called me by the name I had thrown away together with my past.

When I responded she looked at me and was clearly surprised.

" Honey, who is Mephibosheth? In the tone she uses when she is afraid.

" I am."?

Her face an open scroll.

She was hurt.

It wasn't like I wanted to hide my true identity from her, I just didn't see the need to let her know.

Mephibosheth died in the palace 30 years ago.

There was no time to explain.

"This is why I don't like the idea of God being with us."

I said as the soldiers carried me away.

The irony of this moment was I was sitting when all I had was taken away from me.

I am sitting again and it looks like that cycle is going to repeat.

People are watching me leave but

the only thing on my mind is the safety of my wife and son.

I don't care if the king wants to execute me if it means that the lives of those who gave me hope are spared.

I am placed before him in his throne room.

"Mephibosheth."

"I am your servant, oh King. To what does a dead dog owe an audience with you?"

He says nothing for a moment and looks at me with compassion.

"Your father was like a brother I never had and I had made a vow to him. I will fulfill it through you."

He then called for his servant and said.

"Give to Mephibosheth all that belongs to him. From now on he will dine with me at my table. Ensure nothing that is his is harmed."

Everything that followed was like a dream.

My wife and son were brought to the palace.

I told her everything and we made up.

We were given land and servants. We used our new wealth to support the people in Lode-bar because, despite being a slum, that place was our home.

And true to his word King David sat and ate with me. He had every right to kill me but didn't.

Could it be that the only explanation for this was that GOD was with me?

Looking back.

I had a nanny who didn't abandon me.

No one came after my life because I was lame.

I had the skills needed to survive.

I found someone who loved me not for what I had or didn't have but who I was.

I know what it's like to have nothing and everything.

And I see that maybe even in my darkest moments, when I felt worthless HE was with me all along.

Saying

" I have called you out of the mouth of shame."

"Mephibosheth."