The stone is smooth and heavy in my hand, glistening still, for I have just chosen it from among the countless thousands scattered across the riverbed. As I contemplate the dripping thing, a roar rises from the battlefield on the other side of the hill. The enemy is cheering on their champion. I swallow heavily, attempting to bring moisture to my dry mouth. My knuckles turn white as I clench my fist around the stone. My whole body is shaking.
I'm shaking my head as I remember my bold words: "Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear." I was so brave and confident just moments ago, before I left the camp and came down here by myself, to loosen up my throwing arm and choose my weapons. I know that God is with me; I know He will bring me success this day. Why, then, does fear coil in my stomach like a poisonous serpent?
I plunge the stone into the pouch slung over my shoulder and numbly begin to search for another. Just in case I miss my first shot, I think. I'm trembling so much, the thought is not unrealistic. When I first saw that giant man and heard him bellowing his obscenities, I was so angry that I could not imagine doing anything but going down to fight him. Now I contemplate fleeing.
But if I do not go down and fight him, who will? I think of all the seasoned warriors who are at this moment shaking in their armor, and my heart faints within me. In my mind, I know that I have been anointed, consecrated, set apart for this holy purpose of the LORD's. But all my conviction, all my passion, all my courage has deserted me. Why now? Why, in my hour of desperate need, do I lose heart?
As I drop another stone into my bag, I suddenly realize that I have collected a small arsenal. Five smooth stones, each bigger and heavier than the one before. My bag is dragging on my shoulder, the weight of my weapons pulling me down. I erupt in laughter as the absurdity of this hits me like a dash of cold water to the face. These stones are like pebbles when compared to the titanic weapons of the giant; he is superior to me in every way. For the first time since descending to this stream, I remember that it is not my weapons or my prowess that guarantee my victory.
At what point did I cease to trust in God and begin to rely only on my own strength? At what point did I forget that nothing is too hard for Him? He has delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear; certainly He can strengthen my arms of weakness and steady my feeble knees. In His Spirit, I will triumph.
"'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty."
-Zechariah 4:6b
I square my shoulders and shield my eyes from the sun as I look over the crest of the hill I must mount before I go down into the Valley of Elah to face my giant. My steps are hesitant and faltering, but I begin to walk. I do not walk alone.
"But the LORD is with me like a mighty warrior."
-Jeremiah 20:11a
