Hezekiah trusted in the Lord, the God of Israel. There was no one like him among all the kings of Judah, either before or after his time. [2 Kings 18:5 (NLT)]
“Every cloud has a silver lining!” says the wife to her warrior husband in one of Jim Unger’s Herman comics. Since he’s holding one sword in his hand and has another running right through his chest, she points out, “Now you’ve got two swords!” Indeed, we should accentuate the positive. Nevertheless, when we see clouds forming, in spite of the possibility of their having a silver lining, it’s wise to get out the umbrellas and prepare for a storm.
The twelfth king of Judah, King Hezekiah, was one of the few good ones. He removed pagan shrines throughout the land, instigated several civil reforms, restored daily worship at the Temple, reinstituted the Passover celebration, fortified Jerusalem’s walls, and made their water supply invulnerable to siege. When the Babylonian king sent an envoy bearing gifts to Hezekiah, the king proudly showed the delegation both his armory and all of the nation’s treasures. Perhaps Hezekiah saw a potential alliance and wanted to impress Babylon, a rising power in the east. Nevertheless, it was like the chicken taking the fox on a tour of the henhouse. Hezekiah’s boastful action led to Isaiah’s prophecy of Judah’s defeat by Babylon. The prophet told the king that none of Judah’s treasures would remain and that some of his sons would be taken away in exile to serve as eunuchs in the Babylonian court.
We’d expect Hezekiah’s reaction to such a devastating prophecy to be one of despair, if not repentance, sack cloth, fasting and ashes. Instead, Hezekiah chose to see the silver lining in the storm cloud hanging over his nation and family: Judah’s destruction wouldn’t take place during his lifetime! Perhaps, rather than pride, Hezekiah’s sin was that of self-centeredness. His concern was only for his legacy—the peace and prosperity of his reign rather than the future of the nation, his people, his family, and the continuation of David’s line. He was just happy that his reign was secure and he wouldn’t be alive to see the destruction of all that he’d built! It was that short-sightedness that led him to cozy up to the Babylonians and incur God’s displeasure and discipline in the first place!
While Hezekiah is known as the best of the Judean kings, his son Manasseh is known as the worst! Manasseh was woefully ill-prepared to continue his father’s reign and, as soon as Hezekiah died, the nation immediately returned to its idolatrous and sinful ways. Manasseh built altars to Baal, worshipped the stars, erected Asherah poles, defiled the Temple, sacrificed his own children, dabbled in sorcery, astrology and wizardry, cruelly executed those who opposed him, and is said to have been responsible for Isaiah’s death. I can’t help but wonder how Judah’s fate might have changed had Hezekiah been as concerned about the storm cloud rising in the future as he was about the silver lining of his present. Less than 150 years later, Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled when the Babylonians destroyed Jerusalem, carried away all of its riches, and took the people of Judah into captivity.
Sometimes, the silver lining in a cloud just isn’t worth it! The wife in the comic saw two swords instead of a fatally injured man and Hezekiah saw a great legacy instead of Jerusalem’s destruction. Let us remember that it’s not enough for us to finish well; we want those who follow us to do so, too.
The thing I’ll miss most when we move to southwest Florida permanently is easy access to my grandchildren. This summer I’ve relished watching the little guys frolic in the sprinkler, race their scooters down the sidewalk, climb the monkey bars, decorate the driveway with colored chalk, and play bags with their cousins. They insisted on helping in the kitchen, offered to set the table, listened intently to every story read to them, and never tired of endless games of Crazy-Eights and Kings’ Corners. Their squeals of delight at the holiday fireworks and when they mastered riding the Irish Mail (where they pumped with their arms and steered with their feet) were music to my ears. They asked endless questions and pondered every answer. Wanting to please us, they even were obedient. Seeing their unbridled enthusiasm, energy, and desire both to learn and please, I wondered why I wasn’t like that. After all, God wants us to be like children.
I showed the antique dealer the old silver tray we’d found at an antique store many years ago. Having just read Stephanie Kallo’s novel Broken for You, I’d been drawn to it. Hers was a story of secrets and redemption that told of how two women salvaged their brokenness, first by smashing priceless antique porcelain pieces that had been stolen from Jews during the Holocaust, and then by repurposing the fragments into beautiful mosaics. The novel was an homage to the beauty of broken people and broken things. The tray’s handle had been damaged and soldered back on and I imagine much of the silver plate had worn off its top. It was, however, a thing of beauty because it had been artistically covered with broken pieces of antique painted china. The dealer told me that artists often come into her shop looking for chipped pieces of decorative porcelain. Because they plan on breaking it to use in jewelry or mosaics like my tray, they don’t mind chips or cracks.
The book of Genesis is filled with thoughtless decisions that led to trouble. Although Eve knew the forbidden fruit would give her the knowledge of good and evil, I doubt she asked herself why she wanted it, what she’d do with it, or how God would react to her disobedience when she ate it. Look at Sarah with her bright idea to give Hagar to Abraham to make a baby. Did she pause and consider how she’d feel about sharing her husband with her maid or that Hagar and the child would be a constant reminder of her own infertility? Did Lot’s wife think to ask herself why she’d been told neither to stop nor look back at Sodom before she took that fatal last look?
Not so long ago, it was hard to face my computer with any enthusiasm. Every beginning led to a dead end or took me down a rabbit hole of confusion. The paragraphs over which I’d struggled had come to nothing and my hours at the keyboard seemed an exercise in futility. It’s as if I had little scraps of useless fabric but couldn’t find a way to quilt them together. I wondered where God was when I so desperately needed His guidance.
Her neighbors probably thought she’d lost her mind when she sent her boys out to ask for empty containers. Shutting the door certainly kept out the creditors, naysayers, and doubters along with any talk of unbelief that could hinder the widow’s faith. That closed door shut out interruptions, distractions, anxieties, and whatever else that might have kept the widow from focusing on God. Because that shut door even kept out Elisha, there was no mistaking who was responsible for the flowing oil: God!
