What About Bathsheba?

Most people, even those who don't read the Bible, are familiar with the story of David and Bathsheba. One restless night, David gets up and sees Bathsheba bathing and sends for her. Without any apparent regard for her, proceeds to sleep with her. Upon finding out she's pregnant, he goes into self-preservation mode and calls her husband Uriah in from battle to sleep with her. When Uriah shows that he has more integrity than the king, David sends him back to be killed.

After he is confronted, David is ultimately repents and is restored, writing two beautiful redemption psalms (32, 51) in the process. He is now considered the unofficial patron saint of adulterers. Governors, pastors, senators . . . . they all use him as their model of how you can be restored from such a heinous sin. God's grace is very, very good.

But my question is this: What about Bathsheba? One moment, she's minding her own business, and before she knows it her life has been turned upside down. Her husband is dead and she's pregnant with another man's baby. Good for David, he gets restored and can even write a best-selling piece of literature about it. Bathsheba, however, is somewhat left in the wake of this marvelous restoration that has enabled wayward men for years to find their peace with God. (And yes, I say this somewhat mockingly. Not at God's inexhaustible grace, but at man's inexhaustible ability to use this grace to cover their repeated moral failures. These men have made it a lifestyle!)

The problem I have with this is that we tend to mark our spiritual growth on the back of those we've hurt. Where is the spiritual growth that simply pours out of our love for God? Why does it always have to come at the expense of others?

My brother has come up with an ingenious plan for feeling good about his weight. He's going to put on 10 pounds, then lose 5 and rejoice in the victory. He's being funny, but isn't that what we do spiritually? We fall, we hurt people, then we take a few steps forward and proclaim a great victory! The problem with this isn't God's grace, which thankfully is new every morning (Lam. 3:23), but with the Bathshebas we leave strewn by the wayside.

I would love it if some men would seek spiritual gains that are not simply a continual stepping out of the muck and mud of poor decisions, but out of an honest quest for holiness. A quest that involves healing those along the way, not building your victories upon their backs.

Where are those who are seeking God for who He is, not just for eliminating their trash?