Facing the Giants

I am a coward.  Truly, I am.  I have often dreamt of being brave, of odes written about my valor in battle, Goliath falling like a rock when I amble across the scenery.  But no, I would be the one sitting very quietly in the dark, hoping the someone will rescue me before the monster discovers me and eats me whole.  I hear they do that, and while I have never actually met anyone who could affirm this reality, I think it makes good sense to be cautious. 

So, Shakespeare blathering on about a coward dying a thousand death, a hero but once, is no doubt true.  The thing I was always pretty sure about though is that the hero goes down early.  Like those people in all of the murder mysteries...the program starts with them minding their own business, buying groceries, making phone calls.  Then they are dead.  Just one time, they went early and quick, and none of them appeared to me to be packed and ready to go!  Sure a coward has to do die a thousand deaths but comparatively, they are small and less dramatic.  The coward may be scared and panicking, but since they are at the back of the pack, in a tiny corner, under everything they can drag over themselves, they don't tend to go so early in the game.

But very seldom to you find people inspired by the coward.  There is much head shaking over cowards.  If I had a dime for every time some well meaning person asked me what I thought was in the darkness, I would be retired, hiding behind a huge fence, in some well lit cabin.  What do I think is in the dark?  My goodness people, do you never watch the news?  Or television?  Or read a book?  The dark is full of all those things that avoid the light.  Our parents know this instinctively.  It's why we all had curfews and had to get home before midnight.  Everyone knows th more dark, the more  out of control it is, turning well behaved teens into hormonal, out of control, savages.  Yet, they still shake their heads at me.  Where is the justice in that?!

Recently, I have been poking at one of the giants who lives inside my head.  I don't know his name, and yes of course all giants are masculine, but he has spent years messing with my vision.  Some amazing things percolate through my brain, you know.  Most should not be shared with even me, but every once in a great while there is deep profound good.  And while I am celebrating good, this giant fellow peeks his head out of whatever corner he lives in and he says, "you know, I don't think you should tell anyone that...it isn't really that good."   "Yes, it is," I always insist, because I am bossy by nature.  "Nope, I don't think it's that good.  You know, you are more of an amateur, a wannabe.  If you show anyone else that thing, they will be kind, but they will know that you don't do very good work.  You know how we want everyone to feel good about themselves, even though they aren't really all that good.  They will tell you that, to spare your feelings." " No sir," I always argue back.  "It's funny, or touching, or clever, or witty, or insightful." " No, no it's not.  I think you are being vain, yes, and more than that egotistical.  No one likes that.  You should stop.  Go back and organize something.  You are okay at that.  Not anything big though.  Sometimes you put things in the wrong places." 

I am a big grown up girl.  Why on earth haven't I murdered off this giant many years ago?  You know what happens without me finishing the dialogue.  In the end, I quit whatever I was doing, and I put it away, and if I happen to stumble across it later I think that wasn't bad, or else I think boy that's awful, how good it was that I didn't share it with anyone.  I don't know if it is good, bad or indifferent really, but I do know that this giant has had me eating out of his hands all of my life.  This is how a coward does it, runs and hides but never calls out that giant, face it down, and clear the ground so I can live in the Promised Land of the freedom that comes from being a child of God and a person of value. 

I am arming myself, and I am going to battle.  I am taking a huge flashlight, getting one of the enormous shield, and I am hiring a hit man to go with me.  Jesus and I are going to take on this giant and we aren't taking prisoners.  There will be no more placating, no more arguments.  Churchill once said that an appeaser goes on feeding a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last.  I am not feeding that giant anymore, and I am not waiting for him to die of starvation.  I am inviting Jesus to name him and send him on his way, I guess the herd of pigs is optional.  The son of man does set us free, and I am ready to be free for sure. 

You know, it occurs to me that many others have their own giants to face down.  Perhaps, like me, dying the thousand deaths seemed so much better than the one big death to self, to fear, in losing our lives, to find them in Christ.  So come on world, stand up with me.  Lets put on the armor of God, and allow God to make us able to stand still and fight, instead of hiding and running.  I am seeing the fall of a thousand giants, and a lot more fun for God's people.  But lets do it in the light, okay?