The ranch and Sentinel Butte

Coneflower

THE GIANT

By Wendy Kleker

            David blew into camp.  Leading a donkey loaded with supplies, he almost ran up the hill where the tents were pitched. Hearing the battle cries as the armies lined up, each on their own knob, he scurried faster tugging on the donkey’s lead.  David left the donkey with the supply man and his feet flew to the front lines.  Excitedly he looked around at the warriors in their heavy armor, standing straight their spears held in one hand, shields in the other.  His heart beat rapidly.  Surely he would see a battle today, maybe be able to take part in it.

            Suddenly there was a great shout from the Philistine hill, a roar that filled the morning air.  Surely, there is no lion here! David thought, peering across the valley to the Philistine lines. 

            The Philistine soldiers parted on the crest of the hill and a bronze helmet, gleaming in the rising sun, came into view.  As David’s ears were full of the roar and stomping of great feet, a huge chest, shinning like the helmet rose above the armored men on the hill.  A great shield advanced ahead of the immense man, teetering as a shield bearer struggled to hold up the great weight.

            David’s mouth fell open. The warrior was huge, standing many feet above his fellow Philistines.  Nine feet in all, Goliath crashed his feet on the ground with great thumps, brandished his spear with a shaft nearly twice as tall as David and roared so loud the bushes shook.

            “Send your champion to fight me! This day I defy the armies of Israel!”

            With a great gasp the ranks of Israel fell back. The army of the Almighty God ran.  Goliath roared in victory.  The Philistines laughed. 

            David was appalled.  “Who is this Philistine who defies the army of the LIVING God?”  He asked as he swaggered amongst the milling soldiers.

            Here was a mere boy, who still shepherded his father’s sheep, giving grown men and seasoned soldiers the what for.  A cocky banty rooster?  Obviously.  Over confident little twerp?  Absolutely.  irritating? No doubt.  Sure ticked his brother off big time, who called him on it, but David ignored his older brother and kept right on asking why no one would fight the giant. 

            However, David followed up his words with action.  “Never fear,” he confidently said to Saul, “I will fight the Philistine.”

            King Saul was taken aback.  “What!” he cried, “why you are just a boy!  This—this giant is a seasoned soldier who has been fighting since he was your age!”

            David bowed before his king, whom he knew very well to have a fiery temper.  “My king” he said, “can I tell you a little story?” At Saul’s nod he went on.  “When I was out in the desert watching my father’s sheep, lions and bears came upon them.  One night I heard the sheep bleating something terrible and by the light from the moon, I saw a great lion carrying a lamb from the flock. I ran after it and struck it with a stone from my sling dazing it, and took the lamb from its mouth.  The lion turned on me so I grabbed it by its hair and struck it and killed it.  Now do you think I could do that with my own strength? No.  Not with my own strength, but God’s. I have killed both the lion and the bear with my bare hands; this Philistine will be no more difficult to kill.  God, who delivered me from the paws of the lions and bears, will deliver me from this great giant.”

            Now how could Saul argue that?  He didn’t even try, but he did have the grace to give his own armor to the boy. David put on the heavy, plated armor and large bronze helmet, then clunked and clanked around the tent trying to get used to it. 

            He shook his head inside the helmet.  “I can’t wear this, my King, I am not used to it and it is much too big.”  So he took it off and in his shepherd’s tunic only, with his staff, he went to the stream and picked out five smooth stones about the size of a golf ball and he put them in his shepherd’s bag. 

            With heart slamming in his chest and sling in his hand, he approached the huge Philistine. 

            Goliath was appalled.  He stomped closer and peered at David. “A boy!” He bellowed, “You send a boy with mere toys!”   He swore and yelled so loud they heard him all the way to Bethlehem.  “Come, I will feed your flesh to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field!”

            Unabashed, David calmly said, “You come against me with the sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel.  This day the Lord will hand you over to me and all gathered here will know that it is not by the sword and the spear that the Lord saves.  The battle belongs to the Lord!”

            At that Goliath was enraged and ran to attack the shepherd boy.  David ran towards the giant and quick as a wink, put a stone in his sling and slung it over his head.

            WACK!  All could hear the stone hit the giant’s forehead and as it sunk deep, the huge man toppled forward and hit the ground with a great WUMP!

            “So David the young shepherd boy from Bethlehem triumphed over the Philistine with a sling and stone, without a sword in his hand, he struck down the great giant and killed him.”          (From 1 Sam. 17:50)

            A miracle, you say, only in God’s strength, with His hand, under His power.  No doubt.  Possibly after hand-to-hand combat with an angry lion and facing a hungry bear with only a sling, a giant man seemed easy to David. Possibly, but not probably. 

            I have faced lions and bears too.  Have fought them and had great victories, so when the giants march up do I remember that God delivered me?  Do I say like David, “The Lord who delivered me before, will fight my battle”?  Usually not.  Most of the time I run like the mighty men of Israel or hide in my tent like the brave king.

            However, this time was a bit different.  At first, I fell back when the giant stood before the church congregation and roared.    They needed Sunday School teachers and if anyone was interested to let the SS Superintendent know.  I backed up a few steps.  Never have taught Sunday School.  Not my thing.  Don’t like to be tied down to going to church every Sunday.

            Several times in a month this announcement was made.  Each time a niggling, a slight push would come. Naw, I don’t teach Sunday School.  I don’t know any of the kids.  They wouldn’t want me since I’m so new to the church.  Surely there’re lots if people to teach.  I turned and ran. 

            Then the Sunday came when it was announced the SSS would be having a meeting afterwards for anyone interested in teaching.  Again the challenge rang deep in my heart.  Oh I’m sure there will be lots of folks at the meeting.  People who have taught before.  People familiar with the kids and parents.  They don’t need me.  Anyway I don’t teach Sunday School.  After church I saw only one lady talking to the SSS.  I hid in the bathroom.

            Do you think David was scared?  That he saw all these seasoned warriors running and thought who was he to fight a giant of a man?  Do you think he might have wanted to hide?  Or go home?  Or do you think he was just young and cocky enough that he never doubted he could beat the great Goliath?  I wonder if he had a little talk with God in the privy.  Or did his feet just march into Saul’s tent on their own accord?

            My little talk with God did NOT go my way. 

            “You can do this, you know, it’s just a little giant, after all.”

            “Ha! God there’s no such thing as a LITTLE giant.”

            “This is the way.  Walk in it.”

            Then I remembered asking God to use me in this new place.  Oh boy.  But one thing, I hope I have learned; when God gives a command that strong and that sure I better be doing it.

            So opening the door to the bathroom I marched out.  Looking at the table where the meeting was going on, sure enough there was only, still, one gal talking to the SSS.  My feet seemed to walk to the table on their own accord.  Mouth opened.

            “Do you need any help?” I looked over my shoulder.  Now who said that? Well maybe I can just help.

            Big grin on the SSS’s face as she looked at her one and only teacher, “Well, see!” she said and then, “Thank you God!” 

            BIG Oh, Oh!

            “So what age do you like to work with?”

            “Ahhh—“

            Then there’s the matter of the armor.  Get ready.  Prepare.  Load up on information.,  There are all kinds of ways to be prepared these days, and I’m not just talking about teaching Sunday School.  Cell phones so we’re never alone.  Text so we’re never disconnected. GPS so we’re never lost.  On Star so we’re never without a guardian.  Email so we’re never left out.  Internet so we’re never uninformed.  Face Book so we’re never forgotten.  Digital cameras so we are never without instant memory.  Satellite TV so we’re never without entertainment.  And now we can have all of the above, and probably more,  in one little, tiny, skinny, black box, which I think is called a “Black Berry.”  And it’s not even good to eat.  Where ever we go.

            Hey I like some of these things too and I use them, you bet.  They are good things and can be used for good stuff.  But where is my trust, really?  What happens if my little Black Berry (which I don’t have) gets lost?  Or the satellite is blocked so I don’t have internet, or email or TV?  Or if I don’t get cell service or if the GPS is too far from a tower to tell me where to go?  What then?  What am I relying on?

            Okay, we’ll let some giants lie and get back to the Sunday School story.

             I was prepared; read up, studied down, prayed over and on my way to church.  Yet how do you prepare to face a rowdy giant towering over you with the happy faces of a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh graders? 

            “There are some rowdy boys,” I was told.  Okay I’ve handled rowdy boys before, had one of my own. With my heart thundering in my chest, I marched into the church.   A looong time ago.   Can I do this? Why, oh why did I volunteer?  I never teach Sunday School.

            But as it came time to go with the kids to the class, I reached in my bag and grabbed a smooth stone and put it in my sling and slung it. 

            “The armor is too heavy,” David said,  “I can not fight in these.”  Sometimes we just have to face the giant with five little stones.

           “He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes who were too strong for me.  They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support.  He brought me out into a spacious place, he rescued me because he delighted in me.”    

                “With your help, I can advance against a troop, with God I can scale a wall. 

            It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.  He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to stand on the heights.  He trains my hands for battle, my arms can bend a bow of bronze. 

             You give me your shield of victory and your right hand sustains me; you stoop down to make me great.  You broaden the path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn.”  Ps. 18:17-19,    32-36

Read I Sam. 17

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