Max Lucado: The Battle is the Lord’s!
I spent a better part of an hour recently reciting to my wife the woes of my life.
I felt overwhelmed by commitments and deadlines. I had been sick with the flu. There was tension at the church between some of my friends. We had received word of a couple who were getting a divorce. And then, to top it off, I received a manuscript from my editor that was bloody with red ink. I actually looked for a chapter that did not need a re-write. There was not one. (Groan.)
After several minutes listening to my ranting, Denalyn interrupted me with a question: “Is God in this anywhere?” I just hate it when she does that. I was not thinking about God. I was not consulting God. I was not turning to God. I was not talking about God.
Maybe you have been there. You have had a hard week at work. Your project is it not going well, and your boss does not seem to notice how many late nights you are putting in. Nothing seems to be going right. All you can do is lie awake at night in the few hours you are able squeeze in and worry about the next day. You eat, sleep and dream the problem.
The question comes—is God in this anywhere?
Your marriage is coming apart at the seams. Harsh comments and resentful replies are the common thread woven through each interaction. You only see two options: live this way forever or cut the tie. The question returns: Is God in this anywhere?
The bills on your desk tower like a house of cards about to topple. Worry and fear grip your heart. Frustration and stress take you to places you do not want to go. Again the question is asked…Is God in this anywhere?
When you are facing a battle that seems too big to win — maybe even impossible — there is a powerful promise for you to consider in 1 Samuel 17:47 (NIV):
All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that ________ ; for ________ is the LORD’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.
Sometimes it feels like we are in a constant battle. A battle for our heart, a battle for our relationships, a battle for our finances, a battle for our peace. It can be exhausting and overwhelming. But we were never meant to fight our battles alone.
In Matthew 1:23, God called himself, “Immanuel”—which means God with us! Not just God who made us; not just God who thinks about us; not just God above us; God. . .with. . .us! He breathed our air and walked this earth.
He pressed his fingers into the sore of the leper. He felt the tears of the sinful woman who wept. He inclined his ear to the cry of the hungry. He wept at the death of a friend. He stopped his work to tend to the needs of a grieving mother. He does not recoil, run, or retreat at the sight of pain. Just the opposite. He walks with us through it. He did not walk the earth in an insulated bubble or preach from an isolated, germ-free, pain-free is-land. He came into our mess to show us a way out. He stepped on to the battlefield and showed us how to win.
In some of the biggest wars in history, were it not for the allies and reinforcements that came in, the battles would have been lost. Jesus is stronger than any natural reinforcement and He has already won the final war. When we are facing insurmountable odds, when the battle looks hopeless, when we are weary from the fight, we are not alone. We have the ultimate Victor on our side, and we can walk through the battle knowing it has already been won.
Is God in this anywhere? He certainly is. And we must acknowledge His authority. We must allow Him to show us the battle plan, to teach us how to fight the good fight, and ultimately, let Him be the one on the frontlines fighting for us.
Jesus said in John 16:33 (NIV):
“I have said these things to you, that _______ you may have peace. In the world you will _______. But take heart; I have _______ the world!”
How do we have peace in the midst of the battles raging around us? We take heart and realize that he has already overcome them. He has a plan and WE are overcomers because of Jesus. The one who has overcome the world is there to fight the battle. You are not alone. Take heart.
Whatever you are walking through. Whatever battle you are facing right now. Whatever the unlikeliness of the victory, remember the battle is the Lord’s.
God’s Promise:
The battle is the Lord’s.
My Promise:
I will battle in the name of the Lord Almighty.
You may have thought the battle was yours to fight, yours to win or lose, yours to sustain. It is not. “The battle is the Lord’s.” Thank you, David, for modeling this promise.
Not King David. Not Royal David. But, young, shepherd-boy David. Mud moistens his knees.
Bubbling water cools his hand. Were he to notice, he could study his handsome features in the water. Hair the color of copper. Tanned, ruddy skin and eyes that steal the breath of Hebrew maidens. He searches not for his reflection, however, but for rocks. Stones. Smooth stones. The kind that stack neatly in a shepherd’s pouch, rest flush against a shepherd’s leather sling. Flat rocks that balance heavy on the palm and missile with comet-crashing force into the head of a lion, a bear, or, in this case, a giant.
Goliath stares down from the hillside. Only disbelief keeps him from laughing. He and his Philistine herd have rendered their half of the valley into a forest of spears; a growling, bloodthirsty gang of hoodlums boasting rotten teeth and barbed-wire tattoos. Goliath towers above them all: nine feet, nine inches tall in his stocking feet, wearing 125 pounds of armor, and snarling like the main contender at the World Wide Wrestling Federation championship night. He wears a size 20 collar, a 10½ hat, and a 56-inch belt. His biceps burst, thigh muscles ripple, and boasts belch through the canyon:
“This day I _______! Give me a man and let us _______ each other” (1 Samuel 17:10 NIV).
Who will go mano a mano con migo?
No Hebrew answered. Until today.
Until David.
David just showed up this morning. He clocked out of sheep watching where he was usually found to deliver bread and cheese to his brothers on the battlefront. And that’s when David makes his decision. He selects five smooth stones.
Goliath scoffs at the kid, nicknames him Twiggy.
“Am I a _______, that you come to me with _______?” (17:43 NASB).
What odds do you give David against his giant? Better odds, perhaps, than you give yourself against yours.
Your Goliath does not carry sword or shield; he brandishes blades of unemployment, abandonment, abuse, or depression. You know well the roar of Goliath. The regretful taunting of your past, the mocking dread about your future. The unrelenting, fear-filled questions about your present. His voice is defiant and uncompassionate. Meant to terrorize and paralyze you,
But on this day, David faced one who foghorned his challenges morning and night. Scripture says that:
For ______, twice a day, morning and evening, the __________ strutted in front of the Israelite army (17:16 NLT).
Yours does the same. First thought of the morning, last worry of the night—your Goliath dominates your day, contaminates your hope, infuriates your soul, and infiltrates your joy. Goliath: the bully of the valley. Tougher than a two-dollar steak.
But not tougher than David’s God. When David saw the giant, David said this:
“What will be done for the man who _______ this Philistine and _______ from Israel? Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should _______ of the living God?” (1 Samuel 17:26 NIV)
He called Goliath a name—“Uncircumcised Philistine,” or in modern parlance, “filthy, rotten scoundrel.” Politically correct? No. But spiritually aware. David marched into the battle keenly aware of the “...armies of the living God.”
He saw a battle; he thought of God.
He saw the Philistine armies; he thought of God’s armies.
David majored in God. He saw the giant, mind you; he just saw God more so. Look carefully at David’s battle cry:
“You come to me with a _______, with a _______, and with a _______. But I come to you in the ________, the God of the armies of Israel” (17:45 NIV).
Note the plural noun—armies of Israel. Armies? The common observer sees only one army of Israel. Not David. He saw the Allies on D-day: platoons of angels and infantries of saints, the weapons of the wind and the forces of the earth. God could pelt the enemy with hail as he did for Moses, collapse walls as he did for Joshua, stir thunder as he did for Samuel.
David saw the armies of God.
And because he did, David hurried and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine.
David’s brothers covered their eyes, both in fear and embarrassment. Saul sighed as the young Hebrew raced to certain death. Goliath threw back his head in laughter, just enough to shift his helmet and expose a square inch of forehead flesh. David spotted the target and seized the moment. The sound of the swirling sling was the only sound in the valley.
Ssshhhww. Ssshhhww. Ssshhhww.
The stone torpedoed into the skull; Goliath’s eyes crossed and legs buckled. He crumpled to the ground and died. David ran over and yanked Goliath’s sword from its sheath, shish-kebabed the Philistine, and cut off his head.
You might say that David knew how to get a head of his giant.
When was the last time you did the same? How long since you ran toward your challenge? We tend to retreat, duck behind a desk of work, or crawl into a nightclub of distraction, or a bed of forbidden love. For a moment, a day, or a year, we feel safe, insulated, anesthetized, but then the work runs out, the liquor wears off, or the lover leaves, and we hear Goliath again.
Booming.
Bombastic.
It is like the armor that King Saul tried to offer David. A shield for David to hide behind, armor to cover him. But these attempts at protection were just that—only fatal attempts. David had to change his tactic. He had to face the giant head on. No hiding. No trying to pretend like he was someone he was not. No false display of bravery while shaking in his boots. He had to stand on the promises of God and face Goliath with boldness.
And he took down that giant. It is time we do the same.
Like David, rush your giant with a God-saturated soul. Amplify God and minimize Goliath. Download some of heaven’s unshakable resolve. Giant of divorce, you are not entering my home! Giant of depression? It may take a lifetime, but you won’t conquer me. Giant of alcohol, bigotry, abuse, insecurity . . . you are going down. How long since you loaded your sling and took a swing at your giant?
Too long, you say? Then David is your model. God called him “a man after my own heart” (Acts 13:22 NIV). He gave the appellation to no one else. Not Abraham or Moses or Joseph. He called Paul an apostle, John his beloved, but neither was tagged a man after God’s own heart.
It is not just you and Goliath. You are not alone in your struggles. Lay claim to this great and powerful promise. The next time you hear the bully of the valley snort and strut, you remind yourself and him of the promise in 1 Samuel 17:47: “This battle belongs to the Lord.” And then with a boldness like David’s, make your own promise:
I will battle in the name of the Lord Almighty!
Questions for Reflection:
Name the biggest giant you are facing right now. Marital difficulties? A financial crisis? A scary report from your doctor? Give your giant a name.
Remember, this battle belongs to the Lord. How does this promise affect your thoughts, your words, your actions
What are five smooth stones you can use to defeat the giants in your life?
