Speak to the King.

David, Abigail, and the art of remembering.

Leadership has a strange way of exposing both our strength and our struggle—sometimes in the same moment. It can feel like standing at the crossroads of impulse and identity. One such moment plays out powerfully in 1 Samuel 25, where David (still not yet King), is met with insult and intercession. The story offers one of Scripture’s most insightful lessons in emotional leadership, identity, and restraint.

David and his men, weary from the wilderness, had spent time protecting the flocks of a wealthy local landowner named Nabal. When David sends messengers asking for hospitality—what he considers a simple return for the peace his men had offered—Nabal refuses, responding with scorn: “Who is this David? Who is this son of Jesse?” (1 Samuel 25:10).

David, the slayer of Goliath, in the spirit of Michael Jordan: took that personally.

He told his men, “Each of you strap on your sword,” and they did. Four hundred men set out to avenge the insult. Here was the man after God’s heart, a future king, ready to shed innocent blood out of offense and ego.

Enter Abigail:

This is where it gets good. Abigail, Nabal’s wife, saw it all. She knew from her servants that David’s men were “a wall around” her people in the fields, always just and honorable (1 Samuel 25:16). She understood the weight of the moment and moved swiftly to intercept disaster. She loaded gifts and supplies and raced to meet David in the ravine, hoping to find him between impulse and consequence.

What she said was stunning, a masterclass in leadership and wise judgment.
She didn’t argue. She didn’t rebuke. She reminded. She spoke not to the angry aggrieved warrior in front of her, but to the higher anointed king within him.

“The Lord your God will certainly make a lasting dynasty for my lord, because you fight the Lord’s battles, and no wrongdoing will be found in you as long as you live… When the Lord has fulfilled for my lord every good thing he promised concerning him and has appointed him ruler over Israel, my lord will not have on his conscience the staggering burden of needless bloodshed or of having avenged himself” (1 Samuel 25:28–31).

David had forgotten his highest role. His best self. His better angels.

Filled with petty rage and vengeance, he was reacting out of offense not identity. But Abigail knew that if she could just get him to remember his true self, the one who he deep down aspired to be, anointed, righteous, and chosen—that version would win.

Speak to the King:

It’s as though Abigail reached into her satchel, pulled out the invisible crown, and held it just above David’s head—not to place it there herself, but to call him to rise up and meet it. She spoke to the man he was becoming inside, not the one manifesting in front of her. She gave him the gift of remembering his true identity. And she was right. That reminder saved lives, and perhaps even David’s legacy.

As leaders, we are often caught in the same cycle. We are called to higher things, yet tempted by lesser ones. It’s easy to get pulled into impulsive reactions when someone questions your credibility, critiques your work, or disrespects your calling. Like David, our instinct is often to grab our sword, defend ourselves, and to act in the flesh even though we’re called higher by the Spirit.

Abigail’s brilliance is her restraint. She shows us that the most effective correction isn’t always a direct confrontation—it is sometimes an aspirational reminder. She didn’t shout down David’s anger. She called up his identity. She didn't speak to the warrior out for blood. She spoke to the king, the shepherd of a people, the one who would soon wear a crown on his head not just in his heart.

This is what it means to speak to the king—in ourselves, and in those we lead.

When someone on your team loses their way, before you confront the behavior, consider reminding them of who they are, who you know them to be. Before you call them out, call them up. Leadership is not just about correcting people when they fall short; it’s about reminding them of the higher ground they were meant to stand on.

It’s what Abigail did for David. And it’s what Jesus did for Peter.

Strengthen your brothers:

Just before Peter would deny Him, Jesus looked into his future and said, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31–32). Jesus doesn't flinch at the coming betrayal. He names it. But He also speaks a higher truth over Peter—that after the fall, Peter would return. And not only return, but lead. Strengthen your brothers, He says.

Even when Peter would falter, Jesus believed in the rock inside him—the one who would turn back. That’s the king in Peter. Not perfect, sometimes shaken, but faithful in the end. The one who rises, who rebuilds, who returns.

So speak to that king, even if he presently looks like a raging warrior, or a shifty disciple who may have lost his way. Speak to the one who will turn back.

At the end of the story, David listens. “Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, who has sent you today to meet me,” he says. “May you be blessed for your good judgment and for keeping me from bloodshed this day and from avenging myself with my own hands” (1 Samuel 25:32–33). The man who had been moments away from rage now chooses restraint, because one person dared to speak to the king inside him.

In a world driven by offense and ego, we need more Abigails. Leaders who don’t just confront—but call forth. Who don’t just correct—but call up. The people in your life may be one word away from remembering who they are.

So speak to the king.

- Josh