Samuel 11 Apr 2026

A messenger rode back to Jerusalem with the news of the battle. “The enemy came out against us,” he reported. “Some of the king’s servants are dead. Your servant Uriah the Hittite is also dead.”

He sealed the letter with his own royal signet. Then he called Uriah back. “Carry this dispatch to Joab,” David said, looking the loyal soldier in the eye. “Go with courage.”

David felt the trap closing. He kept Uriah in Jerusalem another day, invited him to eat and drink at the palace, and plied him with wine until his eyes grew heavy. That night, David prayed the wine would loosen Uriah’s conscience. samuel 11

He sent a runner to Joab. “Send me Uriah the Hittite.”

Uriah arrived, tanned and dusty, smelling of smoke and horses. He stood before the king with a soldier’s rigid respect. David welcomed him warmly. “Go down to your house,” the king said with a generous smile. “Wash your feet. Rest. See your wife.” A messenger rode back to Jerusalem with the

Uriah, the faithful Hittite, took his own death warrant in his hands and rode toward Rabbah.

David listened, his face a mask. To the messenger, he said coldly, “Tell Joab not to let this trouble him. The sword devours one as well as another. Strengthen the attack against the city and overthrow it.” Your servant Uriah the Hittite is also dead

It did not. Uriah still slept on his mat at the gate, alone.

When she returned to her house, she carried with her a secret. Weeks later, a message arrived for the king: “I am with child.”

But the Lord saw.