"And the Lord was angry with Solomon, because his heart was turned from the Lord God of Israel…"— 1 Kings 11:9
It started so well.
If there was ever a man who had everything—favor, wisdom, wealth, peace—it was Solomon. He didn't fight wars like his father. He didn't build towers like Nimrod. He built temples. He prayed. He asked God for wisdom and not wealth, and yet God gave him both.
But somehow… somewhere between the incense and the gold… Solomon lost the plot.
A Man Divided
Amara read the passage again.
"And Solomon loved many strange women…"
She exhaled deeply. Not in judgment. In recognition.
Amara (thinking):"It's not always evil that derails a king. Sometimes it's distraction dressed as love."
Solomon's fall wasn't fast. It was slow. Subtle. Seductive.
One treaty wife from Egypt. Another from Sidon. Then Moab. Then Ammon. All political moves. All justified.
And soon, the wisest man alive was bowing to gods his ancestors never named.
Scene: The Palace and the Altars
The city glistened under a Jerusalem sun. The palace, vast. The temple, glorious. The scent of cedar and incense mingled with the murmurs of courtiers.
Solomon stood between two altars.
One, dedicated to the God of his father David. The other, to Molech—the fire god of the Ammonites.
He looked weary. Regal, but worn.
Solomon (to himself):"Peace has a price. Unity demands tolerance. Is it not better to accommodate than to fight?"
His wife, a Sidonian princess, approached with gentle eyes.
Wife:"My lord, will you come to the high place today?"
Solomon hesitated. Then nodded.
And with that nod, wisdom bowed to affection. Conviction gave way to convenience.
The Crumbling Within
The scroll did not scream condemnation. It mourned.
"When the wise forsake their first love, the kingdom doesn't fall overnight. It rots quietly, from within."
Amara felt that deeply. Too deeply.
She pulled her scarf over her shoulders and looked out the window. Her phone buzzed beside her. Another email from that media job she had once prayed for. They were offering her a speaking slot—if she'd "tone down the faith language."
Her thumb hovered over the reply button.
Amara (thinking):"Is this my Solomon moment?"
Patterns in the Present
Solomon is alive today.
He sits in boardrooms. In pulpits. On stages. In every believer who trades obedience for applause.
"The danger isn't losing wisdom," Amara whispered. "It's misusing it."
She scribbled in the margin:
Solomon's failure wasn't ignorance—it was compromise.
Final Line
The scroll ended the chapter with one haunting line:
"And so the king who built a house for God also built altars for idols. And no kingdom divided within itself shall stand."