T-minus four days till the release of Soulprint. This excerpt is taken from chapter three titled Lifesymbols.
“David took the head of the Philistine and brought it to Jerusalem, but he put the armor in his tent.”
1 Samuel 17:54
David knew he hit the bull’s-eye, but did he hit it hard enough? He waited for a subtle shift in Goliath’s center of balance. That’s when intense fear turned into triumphant relief as the nine-foot giant teetered, then came crashing forward like a felled tree. There is an old adage: The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And it’s true. But so is this one: The taller they are, the longer it takes! It takes a long time for giants to hit the ground, but when they do, the cloud of dust is spectacular.
When the giant hit the ground, David didn’t waste a moment. He sprinted to the fallen Philistine, unsheathed the giant’s sword, and decapitated him with his own weapon. Then David did something curious. He didn’t just leave Goliath for a battlefield burial. He began undressing his armor, which was far more complicated than simply untying a shoe or unbuckling a belt. It took all his strength just to turn Goliath over! But piece by piece, David removed the armor that was defenseless against a perfectly aimed stone. The great irony is that removing his armor was more difficult than defeating Goliath. David barely broke a sweat slinging the stone, but removing the giant’s armor left him breathless. It’s not insignificant that Scripture records the actual weight of Goliath’s armor: 125 pounds, 15 ounces. David probably didn’t weigh much more than that! Carrying Goliath’s armor was like bench-pressing his own body weight. It wasn’t as simple as picking it up and plopping it down in his tent. And it certainly didn’t fit on the mantle. It probably took two men just to move it. David’s shoe box was much heavier than mine! But David went to the trouble of putting that set of armor in his tent. Every time he packed up his tent and pitched it someplace else, the armor went with him. How come? Because that armor doubled as a daily reminder of a defining moment. It was a 125-pound, 15-ounce lifesymbol. And every time the sunlight reflected off the bronze scales and caught the corner of his eye, it renewed David’s holy confidence in the God who fells giants. And that’s the purpose of lifesymbols. They are physical objects that remind of us spiritual milestones. They are reminders from the past that give meaning to the present and holy confidence for the future.
