When failing and succeeding are at issue, an incident in David’s life comes to mind. It took place during a period when he and Saul were playing a deadly game of hide and seek. Saul, pursuing David and his band of men in the Judean wilderness, was bent on running him into the ground.

Saul was familiar with all David’s haunts and hiding places. David could run but he knew he could not hide. He was weary and worn out. There seemed to be no end to his troubles.

The songs that are assigned to this period of David’s life are sad songs. The overriding mood is one of dreary depression and despair.

Why, O Lord, do You stand far off? Why do You hide Yourself in times of trouble? (Ps. 10:1).

How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? (Ps. 13:1).

My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Why are You so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? (Ps. 22:1).

DAVID’S DANGEROUS DECISION

David had reached the end of his rope. He just couldn’t take it anymore. So he thought to himself:

One of these days I will be destroyed by the hand of Saul. The best thing I can do is to escape to the land of the Philistines. Then Saul will give up searching for me anywhere in Israel, and I will slip out of his hand (1 Sam. 27:1).

In the past, David talked to Gad or to one of his other counselors. Or better yet, he “inquired of the Lord” (1 Sam. 23:2,4). But on this occasion, David didn’t ask the Lord or anyone else. He looked at his circumstances, took counsel of his fears, and fled to Philistia. Under the circumstances, he believed that was the best thing for him to do.

The phrase translated “The best thing I can do is to escape” is put in a way that suggests great haste: “I shall immediately escape. I will do it now!”

Decisions made when we’re down in the dumps or emotionally distraught are exceedingly perilous. We’re most vulnerable to bad choices when we’re in that state of mind—choices we would never make if we were on top of things. When we’re down, we inevitably stumble into bad judgment.

I wonder how many single people have decided in a moment of weariness that they can’t handle the thought of perpetual loneliness, so they settle for a mate who makes life even more miserable for them? I wonder how many men have walked away from good jobs in a fit of momentary frustration and rage and now find themselves hopelessly out of work or working in situations far less desirable? I wonder how many have given up on their marriages when they are at low ebb and have lived to regret that decision? I wonder how many men have walked away from fruitful ministries because of weariness and discouragement?

Ignatius of Loyola, a 16th-century Basque Christian, wrote a book titled The Spiritual Exercises. He pointed out that there are two conditions in the Christian life. One is consolation, “When the soul is aroused to a love for its Creator and Lord. When faith, hope, and charity, and interior joy inspire the soul to peace and quiet in our Lord.” The other is desolation, “When there is darkness of soul, turmoil of mind, a strong inclination to earthly things, restlessness resulting from disturbances, and temptations leading to loss of faith. We find ourselves apathetic, tepid, sad, and separated, as it were, from our Lord.”

“In time of desolation,” he wrote, “one should never make a change, but stand firm and constant in the resolution and decision which guided him the day before the desolation, or to the decision which he observed in the preceding consolation. For just as the good spirit guides and consoles us in consolation, so in desolation the evil spirit guides and counsels. Following the counsels of this latter spirit, one can never find the correct way to a right decision.”

He continued: “Although in desolation we should not change our earlier resolutions, it will be very advantageous to intensify our activity against desolation. This can be done by insisting more on prayer, meditation, examination, and confession.”

So we should wait and pray. David eventually learned to wait for God (Ps. 5:3; 27:14; 33:20; 37:7,34; 38:15). He should have waited on this occasion, but he had made up his mind. Given his circumstances, Philistia looked better than the shadow of God’s invisible wings.

David and the six hundred men with him left and went over to Achish son of Maoch king of Gath. David and his men settled in Gath with Achish. Each man had his family with him, and David had his two wives: Ahinoam of Jezreel and Abigail of Carmel, the widow of Nabal. When Saul was told that David had fled to Gath, he no longer searched for him (1 Sam. 27:2-4).

DAVID’S RESTLESSNESS

David was safe in Gath, though increasingly uneasy. His movements were restricted. He had to give up his autonomy and independence. He felt the need to get away from the royal city, so he asked Achish for another place to live. It was a modest request:

David said to Achish, “If I have found favor in your eyes, let a place be assigned to me in one of the country towns, that I may live there. Why should your servant live in the royal city with you?” So on that day Achish gave him Ziklag, and it has belonged to the kings of Judah ever since. David lived in Philistine territory a year and four months (27:5-7).

At last David and his band could settle down. For months their lives had been full of alarm and flight. Now they had a little corner of peace. Their children could play in safety. Old men and women could sit in the sun and chat. Men could work the fields instead of sustaining themselves by raiding and looting.

David and his people lived in Ziklag unmolested for a time, and everything seemed to be going well outwardly. But this was a barren time in David’s walk with God. He wrote no poetry and sang no songs in Ziklag. Israel’s sweet singer was mute. David drifted steadily away from the Lord.

But David’s drifting did not result in personal failure alone—he also placed his friends in spiritual jeopardy. Philistia lay outside the inheritance of the Lord, the abiding place of the Most High. It was full of idols (2 Sam. 5:21).

As David drifted away from God, he became increasingly restless—a state of mind that always gets us in deep trouble.

DAVID’S TERRORIZING RAIDS

Now David and his men went up and raided the Geshurites, the Girzites, and the Amalekites. (From ancient times these peoples had lived in the land extending to Shur and Egypt.) Whenever David attacked an area, he did not leave a man or woman alive, but took sheep and cattle, donkeys and camels, and clothes. Then he returned to Achish. When Achish asked, “Where did you go raiding today?” David would say, “Against the Negev of Judah” or “Against the Negev of Jerahmeel” or “Against the Negev of the Kenites.” He did not leave a man or woman alive to be brought to Gath, for he thought, “They might inform on us and say, ‘This is what David did.’ ” And such was his practice as long as he lived in Philistine territory. Achish trusted David and said to himself, “He has become so odious to his people, the Israelites, that he will be my servant forever” (1 Sam. 27:8-12).

David plundered and looted village after village and distributed the spoils to his kinsmen in Judah (1 Sam. 30:26). But there is a jarring note in the narrative. David adopted a policy of extermination—killing men, women, and children, lest they inform on him. The verbs attacked, leave, and took are what grammarians call “frequentative verbs” describing habitual action. Extermination was his “policy,” as the Hebrew text described it, “as long as he lived in Philistine territory.” David ran in the fast lane for 1 year and 4 months.

DAVID’S DECEIT

As the king’s liege, David was obliged to report on his battles and share some of the booty from his victories. Achish would ask him, “Where did you go raiding today?” David would lie, “I’ve been raiding Israelites and their allies—the Jerahmeelites and the Kenites.”

David embarked on a course that demanded perpetual deceit. He had to keep lying to Achish, a deception utterly unworthy of his character. Achish accepted David’s reports as evidence of his hatred for Israel, thinking David had alienated himself from his countrymen and was now wholly in his service. “He has become so odious to his people,” he said, “that he will be my servant forever” (27:12).

That’s an interesting phrase: “He will be my servant forever.” David, God’s free spirit, had sold himself to serve a pagan king. “From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit proceeds,” T. S. Eliot said, “unless restored by that refining fire.”

DAVID's MOMENT OF TRUTH

The Philistines gathered their forces at Aphek to go to war against Israel. They were aware of the disintegration of Saul’s kingdom and had noted with great satisfaction the growing number of mighty men who were abandoning Saul and identifying themselves with David and, presumably, with the Philistine army.

The Philistines decided to strike a final blow. So they gathered all their forces— along with David and his mercenaries—with the intent of assaulting Israel across the plain of Esdraelon. David was obliged to follow his king into battle, though he did so with a sinking heart. He knew he must go into battle against his own countrymen, against Saul his king, and against Jonathan his beloved friend.

It may be that at this point David’s heart began to turn to God, asking Him to extricate him from the mess he had contrived for himself. If so, the Lord heard him.

F. B. Meyer has written, “If by your mistakes and sins you have reduced yourself into a false position like this, do not despair; hope still in God. Confess and put away your sin, and humble yourself before Him and He will arise to deliver you. You may have destroyed yourself, but in Him will be your help.”

A door of hope was opened. On the eve of the encounter God intervened. The Philistines themselves insisted that David and his men have no part in the battle, so they turned with relief to their homes in Ziklag.

David and his men reached Ziklag on the third day. Now the Amalekites had raided the Negev and Ziklag. They had attacked Ziklag and burned it, and had taken captive the women and all who were in it, both young and old. They killed none of them, but carried them off as they went on their way. When David and his men came to Ziklag, they found it destroyed by fire and their wives and sons and daughters taken captive. So David and his men wept aloud until they had no strength left to weep (30:1-4).

David and his men had been on the road for 3 days and were exhausted, eagerly anticipating seeing their wives and children. As they neared Ziklag, they saw a plume of smoke on the horizon and ran the last few miles to Ziklag to find the city torched and their women and little ones kidnapped. Instead of happy reunion, there was eerie silence and desolation. There were only a few elderly men and women left to tell the story. David and his men wept until they could weep no more.

David’s troops turned and glared at him in angry silence. There was talk of lynching him. David was personally responsible for their loss, and he knew it. He should have left a few men to guard the city. He should have known. He had let his men down. You can imagine his terrible sense of isolation.

And then there was his own personal loss. There was no hope, no human prospect of redeeming the situation. He could never catch the Amalekites. They were mounted on camels and long gone. When we have hope, we can endure. When we are robbed of hope, life loses all its meaning.

David sensed the righteous judgment of God. His conscience awoke and began to speak. David had been leading a double life— betraying Achish and raiding Philistine allies. He had massacred whole villages and then had lied. Now his village and family were gone. This was one of the darkest moments in David’s life.

DAVID’S REPENTANCE

David wept in misery and despair. He wept until he could weep no more. A perfectly natural reaction. But the natural is fatal. “By sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken” the proverb says (Prov. 15:13 NKJV).

David was greatly distressed because the men were talking of stoning him; each one was bitter in spirit because of his sons and daughters. But David found strength in the Lord his God (1 Sam. 30:6).

“David was greatly distressed,” but he “found strength in the Lord his God.” The Hebrew text reads, “He strengthened himself in the Lord.” That is one of the greatest lines in the Bible.

Once again, David referred to God as his God! No doubt David’s men had heard him say repeatedly, “The Lord is my shepherd, my rock, my salvation.” Although David had seriously compromised God’s name by his failure of faith and his torturous and treacherous policies, the Lord was still his God. And in the present crisis he could flee to the shelter of His wings.

God never refuses His help, even when we have brought ruin upon ourselves. Regardless of what we have done, we must run to Him and take His strong hand. The man who can come to God with the weight of failure on his mind and say to Him, “You are my refuge,” is the man who understands the gracious heart of God.

David “strengthened himself in the Lord.” He must have gone back to God’s promises of forgiveness and restoration, which so often cheered him at other dark periods of his life. He must have recalled the poems he wrote on other dark days like this that reflected God’s faithfulness. He must have remembered that he had been in worse situations than this and that God had greatly helped him in those times. Although his faith had been sorely tested, it had not been disappointed. In this way he encouraged himself.

All around David was frustration and fear. But God was at hand, “An ever-present help in trouble” (Ps. 46:1). David took strength from God and became a center of peace. Remember Paul’s words, “Be men of courage; be strong” (1 Cor. 16:13).

DAVID’S RECOVERY

David, in the end, recovered everything the Amalekites had stolen, including his family (1 Sam. 30:18-19). But not all our failures will turn out that way. There are no guarantees in this life that we will get back the family, the business, the reputation we have lost through our foolishness.

We may reach the end of our years a long way from our goals. We may be known more for our failures than for our successes. We may not be powerful or prosperous. But if we accept the disappointment and let it draw us close to God, we will find in time that our failure has given us a deeper understanding of His love and grace. That is by far the better thing.

It requires enormous faith to believe that our failures are for the greater good. But it is true. We learn far more from disappointment than we do from success. We come to know God and His ways. The man who has never failed has never made that discovery.