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.

 It was a beautiful day, a glorious day, as I walked along the Atlantic shore. The gulls were swooping down upon the waves, the sun was shining and the breeze was heavy with the scent of salt. 

 I was at peace and rejoicing in the beauty, giving thanks to God for the peace and joy that filled my heart. As I bent to study an interesting shell I noticed an old bottle partially buried in the sand. It was old, but perfectly preserved and as I dug it out I was overcome with a strong need to write a message of hope, place it in the bottle and cast it into the sea. The feeling was so powerful that I immediately turned, bottle in hand and returned to my car for pen and paper.

   As I sat contemplating what I should write I again felt a strong pull that it was to be a message of hope to strengthen some soul unknown to me. So I began.

Dear Friend,

  I hope it is okay to call you friend. I do not know who you are, whether you are brother or sister, I only know that my Lord has burdened my heart greatly to write to you a message of hope and strength, He has even provided this beautiful old bottle, complete with airtight cork to place it in, so I know your need must be great and your heart greatly troubled.

   My friend how He loves you, how He cares for you, you are most precious to Him that He would orchestrate all this, me upon a beach, the bottle and Him pressing me so hard to write words of hope and cast them in the sea, all for you, that you might know how greatly you are loved!

  Take heart my friend, rest in His love, rest in His peace, Oh how He loves you!

   As you read this I assume that you are upon some distant beach. I pray that the sky is as vivid blue for you as it has been for me today, that the gulls are swooping and splashing upon the waves, that the mighty ocean sings solace to your soul as it does mine. I pray you also take delight in the feel of the wet sand on your feet. I pray You feel His presence strongly, sense His delight of you, and know in your heart that all that you see and feel in creation was made for you. 

  Be strong in the Lord my friend, cling to Him in this trial you face. He will grant you all that you need to endure. Hold on to the promise we have in Him, life eternal, a new heaven and a new earth and Him to be the light there.

 Go with God my unseen friend. I hope to meet you one day, if not in this life then in the next.

 Your sister in Christ.

 I placed the letter in the bottle, sealed it with the cork and cast it into the sea.

   Upon the distant shores of Tripoli  near the waters edge a man dressed in an orange jumpsuit kneels upon the sand. A masked man in black stands behind him. 

   The man in black notices a partially buried bottle in the sand and yells at the kneeling man, instructing him to pick it up. Upon seeing that it contains paper he commands the man to remove the note and read the message..............

  Minutes later the ocean waters swirl with blood as angels descend to receive the soul of the man who had died upon the beach, died for the crime of loving and following Jesus and for refusing to renounce Him. He died with the name of His Lord upon his lips, under a vivid blue sky, with the gulls swooping down upon the water, with the scent of the salt air in his lungs, and the feel of the wet sand between his toes. He died rejoicing, he stepped into glory while giving thanks.

 The man in black is left with the memory. 

He is jealous for me, loves like a hurricane, I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions
Eclipsed by glory and I realize just how beautiful You are
And how great Your affections are for me

And oh, how He loves us, oh
Oh, how He loves us, how He loves us all

He is jealous for me, loves like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions
Eclipsed by glory and I realize just how beautiful You are
And how great Your affections are for me.

 The short story you have just read was wrote in response to a prompt that said " While at the beach you decide to write a message in a bottle. What would it say? Who would you like to find it?"