“David asked, ‘Is there anyone still left of the house of Saul to whom I can show kindness for Jonathan’s sake?’ Now there was a servant of Saul’s household named Ziba. They summoned him to appear before David, and the king said to him, ‘Are you Ziba?’ ‘At your service,’ he replied. The king asked, ‘Is there no one still alive from the house of Saul to whom I can show God’s kindness?’ Ziba answered the king, ‘There is still a son of Jonathan; he is lame in both feet.’ ‘Where is he?’ the king asked. Ziba answered, ‘He is at the house of Makir son of Ammiel in Lo Debar.’ So King David had him brought from Lo Debar, from the house of Makir son of Ammiel. When Mephibosheth son of Jonathan, the son of Saul, came to David, he bowed down to pay him honor. David said, ‘Mephibosheth!’”—2 Samuel 9:1–6 (NIV)

There’s something deeply compelling about a rescue pursuit. When someone you love is in danger, you don’t wait . . . you run. You don’t hesitate . . . you chase. I always think of The Lord of the Rings, when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are in relentless pursuit of their captured friends, Merry and Pippin. Gimli, exhausted, gasps, “Three days and nights pursuit. No food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell.” Still, they don’t stop. Why? Because, as Aragorn boldly declares, “We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death.” That kind of pursuit isn’t casual. It’s desperate. It’s intentional. It’s love in motion.

Yesterday, we read David’s surprising question: “Is there anyone left from Saul’s house to whom I can show kindness?” Not vengeance. Not justice. Kindness. That question alone defied royal custom. But today’s passage goes even further—David doesn’t just ask the question; he acts on it. He pursues.

He sends for Ziba, a former servant of Saul’s household, and asks again: “Is there anyone?” When Ziba mentions Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan, David doesn’t delay. He doesn’t say, “Well, if he wants to come see me, he knows where to find me.” No—he sends for him. He initiates. He acts. He pursues.

And in this, as we see David’s heart for the forgotten, crippled grandson of his former enemy, what we’re really seeing is the heart of the One David’s heart was always after: God.

Jesus tells us in Luke 15:4–7 (NIV, emphasis added), “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?” That’s what David did for Mephibosheth. That’s what God does for us. He doesn’t wait passively for the broken and ashamed to crawl back into His presence. He goes after them. 

This is the heartbeat of the gospel. You didn’t find God—He found you and we are found in Him! Paul echoes this in Philippians 3:8–9 (NIV) when he says, “I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him.”

2 Peter 3:9 (NIV) tells us, “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise. . . . Instead, he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” The delay of Christ’s return is not inactivity—it’s mercy in motion. God’s giving more people the chance to respond, but He’s not sitting back twiddling His thumbs. He’s actively working in hearts, prompting conversations, planting seeds, convicting souls, drawing the broken. He’s pursuing.

We see it throughout Scripture. Luke 19:10 (NIV) says, “The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” Not just to be available to the lost. Not to build a comfortable place where the lost might wander in. Not just sit around and hope they’ll walk into His church building one day. No—He seeks; He pursues. John 12:32 (NIV) echoes this: “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

And here’s the part that gets me every time: “When Mephibosheth son of Jonathan, the son of Saul, came to David, he bowed down to pay him honor. David said, ‘Mephibosheth!’” David, the king, calls him by name and with noted excitement (that’s why we have an exclamation point after it). In the same way, God knows your name. He knows who you are. He knows everything you’ve done. Every thought. Every wound. Every mistake. Every sin. And still—He pursues you by name. Each and every one of our names was written on Jesus’ heart as He hung on the cross. 

Circling back to Luke 15, look at what Jesus says about the lost sheep that’s pursued: “And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.”

You were Mephibosheth. I was Mephibosheth—crippled by sin, hiding in shame, unworthy of the King’s presence, lost like the sheep. But the King came after us with everything He had. And when He found us and carried us into His house, there was great rejoicing. And now, He invites us to be part of His pursuit of those who are lost. Think about that: You get to rejoice with God and all of heaven when one sinner repents, when someone He used you to draw to Himself responds and receives Him. There’s no greater joy than that!

Pause:
Think back to the ways God has pursued you. What did He rescue you from? How did He reach you?

Practice:
Ask God to put one person on your heart today—a “lost sheep” He wants to pursue through you. Then, take one small step toward them.

Pray:
Father, thank You for chasing me down when I was lost and far off. Thank You for calling me by name. Thank You for sending the Good Shepherd to seek and save me. I ask, Lord, that You would give me Your heart for the lost. Make me bold in love, quick to pursue, and faithful to reflect Your kindness. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.