Sometimes I just sit back and wonder about our God. He doesn’t miss anything, though we miss a lot. That’s why I love the Bible, because I can read it at any time in my life and find something new and amazing that seems to speak just to me. That’s what happened recently as I was reading in the book of 1 Kings.
The chapters in this first part of the book center around the building of the Temple by King Solomon. It seems to go on in endless detail of all the measurements, furnishings and types of materials used to build this magnificent place where the Lord would put His Name. I’m “skimming” along and then hit a road bump in verses thirteen and fourteen of chapter seven.
King Solomon sent to Tyre and brought Huram, whose mother was a widow from the tribe of Naphtali and whose father was a man of Tyre and a craftsman in bronze. Huram was highly skilled and experienced in all kinds of bronze work. He came to King Solomon and did all the work assigned to him.
I’m sure if I read in the commentaries, scholars would say that Huram’s mother was mentioned so that we would know of his Jewish heritage. After all, she was from the tribe of Naphtali. But obviously, she had married outside the faith, as Huram’s father was a man of Tyre — in the territory of the Phoenicians. Maybe he came to believe in the God of his wife, but we don’t know, as he had passed away, leaving a widowed Jewish woman in a foreign city.
But she had her son, and he worked hard to follow in the footsteps of his bronze-smith father. His father had apparently taught him well, for Huram was seen as highly skilled and experienced. He caught the King’s eye for his special project.
How proud his mother must have been to see her talented son chosen by the King to work on the House of God. What a blessing to see God honor him in such a way. Oh, but wouldn’t his father be pleased, if he could see him now?
Do you see where I’m going? God showered his favor on this grieving widow, who perhaps felt outcast from her own people for having moved outside of the Promised Land and marrying a foreigner, by choosing her son to serve as bronze smith for the Temple. He didn’t have to mention her…but he did, and I’m grateful.
I walked into my husband’s shop today and looked down to see a beautiful piece of woodwork-in-process lying on the floor. Not the work of my husband, but of his son. This month, I also watched my eldest design and craft a beautiful (and very heavy) bed for his bride-to-be. It now sits in the place where another beautifully crafted bed once stood.
I know Huram’s mother was so proud: I am too. Opportunities to be proud of our children have a way of soothing the wounds of grief. I’m sure that’s why God mentioned her. He did it for me…maybe he did it for you too.
Grace and Peace