I was a mighty warrior, the mightiest of warriors. From the moment I could stand there was a sword in my hand. The gods of my people gave me great strength and stature and in all my days none could stand before me.
A thousand souls have fallen to my sword, a thousand more to my spear. I have held men above my head, my great hands about their throats and watched as their life ebbed before my eyes.
From childhood I was raised to be a warrior. Because of my greater stature I was always paired with the older boys, at the age of five summers I was fighting those with ten, at ten summers I fought those with fifteen and at fifteen I was paired against seasoned warriors, men who had taken lives in battle and lived to tell the tale. By the time I had twenty summers of life I was paired against multiple opponents.
My first experience in warfare was at the age of fifteen summers, when my people went up against the Israelites. On that day a mere three men fell to my sword. It was my first taste of victory. I felt the life blood coursing through my veins, I felt like a god, I relished the fear upon the face of my opponents and I felt no fear.
In fact, fear was unknown to me, I neither understood nor experienced it, it was foreign to me and I detested those who spoke of the fears they felt before battle. They were lesser men to me, weak and womanly.
I quickly rose through the ranks and became my people’s champion. None stood before me, all who dared to try died in the dust of my sandals.
Until the day that everything changed. We had encamped upon a great hill in the land of Socoh opposite our enemy. The Israelite army was weak and cowardly and for thirty plus days I had stood each morning and each evening on the top of the hill, taunting them and challenging them to come forth and fight me. Not one would even lift his eyes to mine, all scurried about their camp like rats running from the light of a torch.
And then a youth, a small and puny man-child walked across the valley, carrying naught but a sling in his hand. At that moment I felt something deep in my gut that I had never felt before, “is this what fear feels like”, this weakness in my knees, this shaking deep within my inner being? I quickly shook it off and yelled out “ Am I a dog that you come at me with sticks?” And I cursed this puny man-child by my gods, the gods who had given me the strength and stature above all others, the gods who had made me the champion of my people, the gods who had delivered me from fear and defeat all my days. “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the beasts of the field!” I shouted. And then the man-child spoke in a loud voice that shook me to my core. “You come to me with sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head and I will give the dead bodies to the birds of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel and that all this assembly may know that the Lord saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the Lord’s and He will give you into our hand.”
I felt the strength leave my legs, my arms became heavy, and for the first time in my life I felt the weight of the great sword I carried. I knew in this moment that my gods had left me, that they had fled in fear of the God of Israel. I now understand fear, how it can make a man flee and hide how it unmans the soul. Yet I am Goliath, the champion of the Philistines and I must go forth…….so I stepped forth to meet this man-child, amazed at his courage as he runs toward me, his arm drawing back, the sling swinging about his head………………………..
I was Goliath, who stood six cubits and a span in height. Armed with the very best of armor, a helmet of bronze upon my head, the weight of my coat of armor was five thousand shekels. I was Goliath, who had slain a thousand with my sword and a thousand with my spear. I was Goliath, none could stand before me. I was Goliath, slayer of souls, instilling terror in the hearts of my enemies. I was Goliath, Champion of my people……..and I am no more.
What you have just read is a short story, taken from a writing prompt asking that I write a short story from Goliath’s point of view.
David was victorious because of his faith. It was not his prowess in battle, nor his strength and might that took down the giant. It was the fact that David believed that God was with him, that God would in fact do all the things He had promised for the nation of Israel. David stood upon the promises of the God he served. And God did indeed deliver Goliath into his hand.
It is in the hard times that we truly discover the depth of our faith.