Start here if you’ve missed part one – Why I Can’t Stop Thinking About Water (Israel Part 1)
It has been a few weeks since I returned from Israel. The sun highlights in my hair and the color in my cheeks from the desert sun and the windy mountain peaks are beginning to fade. Soon, all physical reminders of my trip will be gone.
But like Moses coming out of the tent where God’s presence resided, my heart will probably radiate awe for a while after my trip. I filled my mind and heart with the views of God’s Promised Land (40 sites in 9 days’ time), and I have so much left to unpack from these moments. It’s like the Holy Spirit is now coloring in the stories I learned in Israel. Stories of people from humble beginnings who were given great courage.
Early on our first day, our guide explained that new shoots grow from “dead” stumps of olive trees. God chose this picture of an olive tree to describe the promise of Jesus; from the line of David would come the Messiah. Our guide told us that we should keep this image in mind as we traveled to our next site.
“Out of the stump of David’s family will grow a shoot—yes, a new Branch bearing fruit from the old root” (Isaiah 11:1).
As we arrived at our next site, our tour bus passed groups of young women in military uniforms picnicking around the national park. They were on a sightseeing trip as a part of their military service, which is required for all young Israeli citizens. I wondered how I would be different if I grew up in a country surrounded by my enemies where military service is not an if but a when. How has my American worldview influenced my reading of the Bible?
Before I could finish my reflections, the bus came to a hissing stop. We stepped out onto a dusty path and began a slow, meditative walk up a steep hill. Large cement stones with Hebrew inscribed upon them stood as sentinels along the way. My calves burned, weak from a long international flight the day before. My stomach grumbled, anticipating a pita bread lunch.
Why is this place significant? I thought as we crested the hill.
pic by Sayla Brown
As we overlooked a sweeping valley, our guide explained that we were standing at the top of the hill where David fought Goliath. I forgot my rumbling stomach as I took in the same view that young David might have had when he stood and looked down at the Philistines below. The wind whipped my hair, and it was hard to stand straight since there was little foliage to protect me. Above the din of the wind, I tried to imagine the echoes of the Philistines’ lies as they shouted at God’s people gathered at the top, Goliath taunting the small shepherd boy, David, and denouncing Israel and their God.
Jesse, my husband, turned to me and asked, “Is this what you expected?” Not at all. The valley below was panoramic. Sunday-school VHS tapes didn’t do justice to the scope of the rugged hills, expansive sky, and the beautiful fields that stretched out for miles. Trees swayed in the wind, and a dry creekbed wound beside the highway.
I was standing at the place where David said to King Saul of the Israelites:
“Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him’” (1 Samuel 17:32).
Out of a whole camp of scared and hopeless people, David descended to the valley and selected five rocks. He put one smooth stone in his slingshot, and with it, God took down the enemy. This shepherd boy became a king, and not only a king, but one called “a man after God’s own heart.” Where did he find the courage to face a giant? Why was he chosen to be a part of God’s story?
I was reminded of David’s legacy: “Out of the stump of David’s family will grow a shoot.” The Israelites saw firsthand how God took a young boy, a small boy, who stood up to a giant with no more than a slingshot. They witnessed a God who fights for his people. They saw a God who upholds his promises.
pic by Sayla Brown
Standing at the top of the hill, it was easy to think of other people who might need to hear this message. But God gently redirected my heart, and I soon realized, “Oh wait, it’s me who needs to heart this.” Don’t lose heart, the Holy Spirit said to my soul.
It’s so much easier to tell people “Don’t give up,” when you’re standing at the top of a valley and can see the whole view. It’s a lot harder to go to the valley below, like David, and select five ordinary stones, believing that God can use them to defeat an army. To not know the outcome, but simply to trust in God’s strength.
We were given time to collect rocks from the very same creekbed David had (only now it was hot and dry). Traffic zoomed by us as we stooped near large rocks with little pieces of trash stuck in between them. I chose a rock the size of my palm. It was smooth and fit between my fingers like a skipping stone. There wasn’t anything magical or even special about it. It looked like any rock I could collect on the Oregon coast.
As I looked at the rock in my hand, I doubted the story of David and Goliath. I thought, That story is just for back then, not today.
Why couldn’t I rely on God to use something small to make something huge happen?
But when I returned home with that ordinary rock in my suitcase, it helped me remember something important. Even as my awe and post-vacation feelings fade, God’s promises and his love for me never fade.
“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength” (Deuteronomy 6:4-5).