It’s May 9th, 2025, and it’s Aloha Friday! Just as Friday marks the end of the normal work week, every ending has a beginning. Sometimes it’s loud and obvious. Other times, it starts small—like a quiet offense left unchecked. Today’s reading follows a man whose downfall didn’t begin with failure, but with something far more subtle… yet it marked the beginning of the end.
Today's Reading:
2 Samuel 17; Psalms 71; Matthew 26
Scripture
“When Ahithophel saw that his advice had not been followed, he saddled his donkey and set out for his house… He put his house in order and then hanged himself...” (2 Samuel 17:23 NIV)
Observation
Who is Ahithophel? Absalom may have been the face of the rebellion, but Ahithophel was the brains. The conspiracy gained traction the moment he joined it. His story blends political maneuvering, personal betrayal, and prophetic fulfillment. As David’s most trusted advisor, hearing from him was like hearing from God.
While Scripture doesn’t spell it out, there’s strong evidence that he was Bathsheba’s grandfather (2 Sam 11:3; 23:34). If that’s true, then David’s sin with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah weren’t just political—they were personal.
Whatever Ahithophel’s motive, Scripture tells us that Absalom’s rebellion was fueled on stolen hearts. It wasn’t built on vision—it was built by mining offense, turning quiet frustrations into open revolt.
The Bible draws a chilling parallel: Judas, like Ahithophel, betrayed someone he once walked closely with. He too left the table. He too offered a kiss of betrayal. And when his plan unraveled, he took his own life (spoiler alert for tomorrow’s reading).
Hanging onto offenses marks the beginning of the end.
Application
Offense never stays small. Left unchecked, it grows—warping my perspective, fueling division, and driving choices I never thought I’d make. Ahithophel didn’t start as a traitor. Judas didn’t start as a betrayer. But both let offense take the lead, and it cost them everything.
Offense is the seed.
Bitterness is the root.
Self-destruction is the fruit.
So I have to ask: what offense am I nursing? What wound am I feeding instead of surrendering? Because the beginning of the end isn’t failure—it’s the moment I let bitterness speak louder than grace.
Prayer
Lord, reveal any offense I’ve been clinging to—especially the quiet ones I’ve learned to live with. I don’t want to let bitterness have a say in my decisions or my future. Teach me to forgive even when it hurts, and to trust You. Keep my heart clean and my soul free. Amen.
—Chris Kiriakos