Then Saul dressed David in his own tunic. He put a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head. David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them.
“I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off. Then he took his staff in his hand, chose five smooth stones from the stream, put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag and, with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine.
1 Samuel 17:38-40
The story of little David and his victory over Goliath is my 6 year old sons favorite thing to read. It’s the first story he looks up when he gets out a picture bible. I’ve become accustomed to it, memorized it, and I confess, tired of it at times. Little guy defeats big giant, with only a stone and God’s divine help. Got it. Check. It is an amazing story – and I feel bad thinking I’ve read it one too many times. I ask him if he wants to read a different story – nope. So we read it again, from a different kids Bible. We talk about how little people can do big things for God. We reaffirm that we are in Gods army and He is in charge of winning the battles we face. It’s all very good stuff. And I believe it. But for some reason, it was more of a picture on a page than a truth in my heart.
God never meant for us to be bored with His Word, not ever, but sometimes those truths just stay there on the page, flat and lifeless. We need them to be life and truth, but sometimes it just isn’t there.
I was flattened most of this past week. Sick to my stomach, I was horrified in a way that I cannot put into words, and I won’t try. We are accustomed to hearing awful things on the news, but Newtown was different. I walked around all week in their shoes, as did every parent I know. I found myself no longer caring about the mud on my floors or dried toothpaste mess in the sink. Truthfully, I was damn thankful for my mess. I went through the motions of sending my boys off to school acutely aware of how exposed we really are. Painfully aware that I need to go to the Lord with these anxieties, I asked that He show me what true protection really means.
We fashion our own little worlds as best we can, organized and tidy. I send the boys off to school – every fiber in my body fights against it while my head tells me to chill out. Later that morning, digging for a Post-It note in the kitchen junk drawer, I came across a little red and black bag given to my 6 year old a few years ago. It contains 5 little stones from the Valley of Elah, where David took on Goliath so long ago. Some very thoughtful friends had given it to us, knowing my little guys love for the story. I wondered how long it had been in there. No matter, I picked it up and put it in my purse. I started thinking about little David. I thought of how he tried to put on Saul’s armor and went instead for a sling and some rocks. The armor didn’t suit him. It didn’t fit him. It weighed him down.
I took out a rock and held it for awhile. Could it be that this is all we need? I started thinking of all the armor I walk around with that is anything but the armor of God. It’s so easy to pile on things in our lives that make us feel less exposed. We organize. We collect. We control. We build our suit of armor until it becomes too big and too heavy. Suddenly, we are too weighed down to fight the giants. David was successful because he went into battle in the name of the Lord. Period. Holding the little bag of rocks, I felt a kind of surrender that I had not felt in awhile.
We need to drop the heavy armor. We need to drop the fears and anxieties we walk around with all day. Accept that we are exposed – accept also that the God of David goes with us into battle and will fight for us.
The world tells us we have to be ‘holly and jolly’ this time of year. The world tells us we need to be dragging around a ton of armor to be happy and secure. God tells us to give up the charade. It’s ok to be broken. As Christmas approaches, I pray God’s supernatural comfort over all those who are mourning. The idea of a ‘holly jolly’ Christmas seems woefully artificial right now. We need the truth to come off the page again. As we mourn the loss of innocence, I pray that we would turn our eyes to the child that came into a world just as dark as ours 2000 years ago. He came so that this sadness would not have the final word. This present darkness is too much for any of us to handle. In spite of all of this – because of all of this – Christ came into this mess of a world.
Don’t let the story fall flat. Don’t let the repetition make it dull and lifeless. May the story of Christmas come off the pages this year like never before. Let those who are hurting look through the artificial and straight into the heart of God. The Light of the World has come to dispel the darkness once and for all.