Changing the story

Brad Watson looks at Goliath, heroes and achieving something remarkable.

He was dead before he hit the ground. Our small room shook with the impact of the gladiator’s huge frame thudding backward into the dry earth. Layers of armour rattled for a moment as a hush descended on the battlefield. Lifeless grey eyes stared unblinkingly into the sun, beyond the sword slicing its way downward through the dry air. He had been a hero—never defeated. Until the sword fell, his men could not believe what they had witnessed.

We’d reached the end and as I closed the storybook, I could see Caleb had questions—important ones.

“Dad, was Goliath very big?”

“Sure he was,” I answered. “He was huge!”

“Daddy, is a sling better than a gun?”

“Not really,” I replied. “Guns weren’t invented back then, so soldiers had spears and swords. David had a sling and some small rocks but he had something much more powerful than a gun.”

“What, Daddy?”

“He had God on his side.”

Caleb thought about this for a few moments as I stroked his blonde-streaked hair.

“Daddy, why was Goliath saying bad things about God?”

“Well,” I replied hesitantly, “there is only one true God but Goliath believed in gods who weren’t real.”

“Dad,” Caleb asked with eyes wide. “Why did David chop his head off? Was there blood everywhere?”

“Um . . . .” I replied slowly, not wanting Caleb to think extreme violence was cool. “Probably because he wanted to show everyone and they would believe he really was a hero. We wouldn’t like to do that, would we?”

“No, that’s yuck,” Caleb replied, his mind already working on his next query. “But Dad, where do giants live?”

“I don’t know, buddy. Anyway, I know there are none here so don’t you worry about that. Are you ready to sleep?”

“Yes, Dad.”

We prayed and I turned the lights out. As I tiptoed quietly out the door, Caleb’s small but determined voice ambushed me. “Dad, when I get big, I’m going to kill a bad giant, too.”

Caleb wants to be a hero. Although he was only five when he said so, he was already smart enough to know that there are heaps of giants. And for every giant, there is a hero within us. All of us can do something big.

These days, Goliath has new names. Sadness, drugs and abuse are goliaths. So are doubt and being afraid to be yourself. There’s plenty of bullying, meanness and injustice. Even the environment is treated badly. Goliath is huge. He shouts into our heads that we are small, weak and worthless. “You are pathetic,” he yells. “You’re a nobody. You can’t make a difference against me.”

Giants are powerful and grow in power when we believe in them. But giants become weak when we trust in God to do good things through us.

David’s Goliath was fearsome. He had taken the lives of many men. But David wasn’t scared. He said, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will hand you over to me, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. . . . For the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands” (1 Samuel 17:45- 47, NIV).

Heroes often do something that others see and admire, like in the story of David and Goliath. They achieve something remarkable and courageous. These days, it has to be out of the ordinary. A hero is the missionary who converts thousands, or the soldier who dies for his mates, or the boy who rescues his sister in a flood, or an athlete who overcomes all the odds, or a performer who wins fame and fortune.

Heroes are rare—or are they?

You can’t tell just by looking, and you wouldn’t know if you bumped into me, but I am a different sort of hero. I don’t have the body of a warrior or the brain of a brilliant general. Sometimes, I’m uncoordinated and I’m not very talented. Nothing special seems to happen in my life. There has been no moment when people stare at me and say, “Wow!”

So, if you did bump into me in the street, I expect you would look at me like all the other non-heroes. But take a deeper look.

Don’t make the same mistake Goliath did when confronted with the boy David. I don’t want to boast but I’m dedicated to killing bad giants, too. And I do. In the battlefield of my thoughts, I go head to head with heavily armoured, nine-foot mockers and I cut them down every day.

I choose to have the heart of a hero: God’s heart. I choose to have the willpower of a hero: God’s will. I’m determined to do good: God’s goodness. I am a change maker. I choose to be a leader in my family. I’m determined to help my friends. I want to turn problems into opportunities. Giants are big but my God is huge. And I am an ordinary hero.

Listen up if you want to be heroic, too. The following words are true: Life is a battlefield. Every person has opposition and setbacks.

Giants are lining up to mow you down and mock you. But instead of believing in them, believe in the power of God to do good through you. God wants to help you overcome every obstacle put in your way. God wants to use you where you are to be a hero for Him. God wants you to have a heart that believes all things are possible.

Goliath is massive—but the battle is the Lord’s.