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Ryan Reynolds
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Narrator
The Lord is your enemy soul, and
Sports Commentator
his will is like a coursing river.
Narrator
You cannot lose what is to come because you have disobeyed Him. He has delivered you into the hands of the Philistines. To Saul's right, Jonathan stood ready for flanked by his other sons, Abinadab and Malka Shua, they stood atop the rise with their men behind them, gripping shields and spears. Jonathan glanced toward his father once, and that glance held everything. Love, loyalty. Farewell. And then they charged. The army of Israel poured down the slope of Gilboa like a wave crashing onto rock. The Jonathan, son of Saul, lay in the dust, surrounded by his brothers and the dead. His sword had not broken. His faith had not wavered. But his heart had ceased to beat. Saul's weary arms slashed through the enemy as they advanced. Closer and closer they pressed, but the king stood his ground until it hit. An enemy arrow whistled through the air, finding its mark on Saul's side. Through flesh, through bone, into the lungs. So this is how it. How it ends. I was the I was the first, but not the last. And so saw the first. The king of Israel pressed the hilt of his sword against the earth, its point at his chest. He closed his eyes. He fell. The blade pierced through skin and sinew, through bone and heart. When he struck the earth, the life left him.
Alliance Defending Freedom Representative
Colorado is at it again, trying to silence free speech. A law in Colorado forces businesses to use customers preferred pronouns even if they're biologically inaccurate and even if using those incorrect pronouns would violate a person's religious beliefs or conscience. That's a violation of free speech. But as Colorado has proved time and again, it has little concern for the First Amendment. At Alliance Defending Freedom, we're challenging the law on behalf of a Christian bookstore and a Colorado based sports apparel company. But a court recently ruled against them. With ADF's help. They appealed the ruling and they'll continue fighting to ensure Colorado doesn't get away with this next attempt to skirt the First Amendment. Your gift helps protect free speech in cases like this all over the country. And for a limited time, your first gift to ADF is doubled by a special matching grant while funds last. Text Pray to 83 or go to joinadf.com Pray to have your gift doubled through every trial.
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Sports Commentator
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Narrator
The fire had claimed the fallen before the crows could mount. Gilboa smoldered in silence, her scorched ridges littered with the dead men of Israel sprawled across the blood drenched slopes. Smoke curled into the crimson sky and ash drifted like snowfall upon the wind. Among the dead was the king of Israel. Saul, son of Kish, once anointed of the Lord, lay face down in the dirt, his own sword driven through his chest. His armor, once polished to mirror the sun, was charred and dulled, caked in soot. The golden crown had slipped from his brow and lay a few feet away, resting in a pool of blood and black earth. A group of scavengers came to claim treasures from the carnage. One among them was Drag, an Amalekite man of little dignity or respect for the dead. He picked his way over corpses and shattered shields. He walked as lightly as a crow over a battlefield, eyes flicking toward rings, purses and daggers left by the dead. When he came to the body of the king, he paused. The Amalekite crouched beside Saul and stared long at the blood caked crown. The gold had dulled beneath ash, and the gemstones seemed to weep, streaked with gore. The scavenger wiped the soot from one ruby with his sleeve and ran his fingers across the etchings of the old script. He tucked the crown into his pack and with it the amulet torn from saws throw. There was no reverence in his theft, only haste. Then came the shout. Philistine riders crested the ridge. Their arrows came swift and whistling. The Amalekite darted up the craggy slope, scrambling with the desperation of a rat chased by cats. He scaled the rocks above Saul's corpse and vanished into the smoke. Drag ran until he knew he had lost the Philistines. He held the crown like a curse in his pack, too heavy to carry, too dangerous to cast away. A smile coiled around Drag's whole face as a new thought popped into his head. There was one man who might see see the value in what he carried. A man who many whispered, would be the next king of Israel. The Amalekite turned his steps towards Ziklag. Ziklag was alive with the sounds of rebuilding. Hammers rang like bells. Laughter echoed in alleyways, and the smell of sawdust clung to the warm summer wind. Children played beside the fields. Women laughed beneath the shade of olive trees. Men whistled as they worked for once, tasting the fruit of their labor. Then came the cry it carried from the hills like a wounded hawk. All work halted. Hammers fell silent. David looked up as the figure descended, barefoot. Dirt streaked, torn robes flapping in the wind. The man was breathless and hollow, eyed as if he had crawled up from the very grave. He collapsed at David's feet. All breath left the camp. The outcasts and warriors, men hardened by exile and blood, stood frozen like statues. David's voice was soft. Too soft. I wrote a little song to remind you. Choice hotels gets you more of the experiences you value. The Cambria Hotel's got it all. A rooftop bar. Have a ball. Bring a date, your squad, or even your mom.
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Narrator
A pause. The world grew still. The scavenger opened his pack, revealing gold glinting beneath a crust of dried blood, the broken amulet and Saul's crown. David took them both in his hands. The weight of them nearly broke him. The Amalekite licked his lips. His lie came smooth and steady. He had practiced it along every step of his escape. Drag had a glint in his eye as he looked up hopefully. David turned away. Drag twitched. David looked at Drag, eyes filled with sorrow. He gestured to his men to give Drag a warm meal, then departed to be alone. He walked to the edge of the camp, where the fields rolled out toward the horizon, green and endless. There he sat alone. The crown was in his lap. The king was dead. The prince slain. Jonathan, his brother of the soul, his truest friend. The last threads of the old kingdom had snapped, and now there was only him. He tore his tunic down. The middle cloth ripped like thunder. The sound was his only cry. David buried his face in his hands and wept like a child. His sobs racked the quiet morning. One by one, his men followed suit. Ashes smeared their foreheads. The morning spread like a plague. Swords were sheathed, shovels dropped. Wives wept. Even the children seemed to understand. Something holy had died. Then David rose and sang. He lifted the crown high into the air, and the sunlight glanced off its edge like fire off steel. His voice cracked. He fell to his knees. And there, beneath the wide sky, with the crown still in his hand, David wept. Evening fell over Ziklag. David sat by the flames, hunched beneath the weight of the robe Jonathan had once draped over his shoulders. He stared into the heart of the fire, watching the embers pulse like dying stars. Across from him, the Amalekite scavenger shifted uneasily on his haunches. His clothes were still stained with the soot of Mount Gilboa, but his eyes were bright and eager, watching David the way a gambler watches the dice as they rattle in the cup. The man expected favor, perhaps wealth, perhaps a position in the new king's house. David did not speak for some time. When he did, his voice was quiet and cold. Drag smiled as though expecting praise for his worldly experience. David looked up at him then, not with kindness, not with curiosity but with the sharpened stare of a man who just glimpsed the truth hidden in another's soul. The firelight danced across David's face casting long shadows beneath his piercing eyes Eyes of thunder and justice. The Amalekite's smile faltered. David stepped over the fire now face to face with the scavenger. He turned and gestured to his men. The captain stepped forward without a word his sword was already in his hand. The Amalekite's eyes widened. But the words didn't matter. David's voice was low, steady. David gave the nod. Benaiah dragged drag from the firelight. Benaiah silenced the Amalekite with steel. He released a stifled gasp then silence. The fire hissed. Somewhere an owl called into the dark. David sat again, the crown of Saul in his lap heavy with blood and memory. He did not look up. He only whispered, more to himself than any other. David closed his eyes. He had won no war. He had claimed no glory. The crown had come and with it the curse.
The Chosen People – Pray.com
Episode Date: June 18, 2026
In this evocative episode of The Chosen People, listeners are taken deep into the poignant aftermath of King Saul and Jonathan's deaths on Mount Gilboa. Through powerfully narrated storytelling, the episode explores themes of loss, mourning, betrayal, and the heavy cost of leadership as David receives the news of his greatest friend's death and the fall of Israel's first king. The emotional, scripture-inspired narrative is interwoven with reflective explorations on grief, loyalty, and the shifting of destinies among God's people.
This episode is a stirring meditation on grief, the complexity of leadership, and the interplay of honor and treachery in ancient Israel. Through intimate, vivid narration and engaging dramatization, listeners are immersed in David’s sorrow and the transformative moment that would define his path as Israel's next king. The tone is contemplative and deeply human, offering listeners a window into the pain, cost, and holiness of mourning—while foreshadowing the burdens of kingship yet to come.