I'm going to try an experiment here, so try to follow along as I try to express something I'm truly beginning to realize and want to communicate. I hope it comes across OK.
It's moments before I take the stage and I'm much too nervous. Why in the world did I even agree to do this stupid debate?
In my head I go over all the proof texts I've memorized. In moments I review the three different versions of the Bible I have memorized, King James, New International, English Standard. I'm working on the New Living but only maybe 30% done.
Grabbing a bottle of water from a table I quickly open it and chug. I'm sweating and I'm not even under the lights yet. There are at least 300 people out in the small auditorium, I can hear them milling about. Speakers squeak and reverberate as the sound techs do their last minute checks. I can see on the other side of the stage the well dressed man I'll be arguing with. He's extremely well known, a scientist and author of great renown in all circles for his unbelief.
It strikes me that someone would be admired and respected for their un-belief. Their complete and utter lack of respect and care for the God I believe in. People sing his praise, rush to shake his hand and get his autograph on his latest book that supposedly disproves God. I can just make out his calm smile as he chats with an assistant. He seems to confident. Confident in his belief that there is nothing to believe in.
Shamefully I have to admit that the man intimidates me.
I walk away from the stage and lean against a wall in a corner as far away as I can get from all the hustle and bustle of stage hands and managers making sure everything is ready.
I wish I could say that I were confident, but I'm not. Even now when I'm supposed to be debating and upholding my faith I find that I'm doubting. I'm doubting my proof texts, I'm doubting the Bible translations I've memorized, even though I know how to read it in it's original language as well.
I'm doubting my God.
Closing my eyes I try to shrink into the corner in the shadows and I try desperately to regain my composure the only way I know how.
"God...I need you..." I whisper.
-------------
Sitting in his tent he thought long and hard about what he'd heard that afternoon.
Jahaziel sat in a corner his head bowed hands clasped in his lap eyes closed. It would almost seem that he was asleep but there was no way that was true. He was praying, he was always praying it seemed.
Jehoshaphat stroked his beard staring at the man. His words still rang in his head and if he were honest with himself he doubted what the man had spoken. Would the Lord really tell them to not fight? How could they win against such an oppressive force? They were surrounded and the threat of destruction was very real.
"You will not need to fight in this battle..." Those words kept resounding in his ears.
He'd fought so much, how was it possible to win a battle without fighting? His faith was shaken and it was frightening to admit it. A God that would tell you not to fight, that the battle was His...it was so strange. It was so counter to what he believed of God, of all the god's he'd ever heard of. Didn't they all want them to fight? To win? To conquer in their name?
For the first time he was beginning to wonder who this God was that he was following. A God that fought his own battles? And all He was asking was for them to stand firm in their faith that he would be with them.
He kept eyeing the prophet trying to figure out if maybe he'd lied, maybe Jahaziel was a spy. A traitor sent by his enemies to confuse him, to thwart any kind of counter attack.
Though he tried to think it, to convince himself of it, somehow he didn't believe that the prophet was lying. As if hearing his thoughts Jahaziel looked up at him. "Do you have a plan for tomorrow?" He asked solemnly.
Jehoshaphat leaned back in his seat his hands clasped in his lap thinking hard twisting the sash around his waist. "You said the Lord wants us to go out before the enemy with confidence that he is with us..."
The prophet nodded.
"I'll admit I was inspired by your words, and frightened as well. My praise may have been true but also come from the momentary shock and excitement. I'm a man of battle, my instincts tell me that I should attack..."
------------
Standing before the great giant he began to briefly wish that he had brought some of the armor that his King had offered. Or at the very least a dagger.
The great man was at least two of him and then some put together. He was a bit thin but all muscle. His armor looked thick and his spear like a small tree with a wicked point. The weapon could skewer him at 10 feet away, or near enough.
He could feel the five stone's weight now in his pocket and the leather of the sling in his hand was rough and slick with his sweat. Standing before a giant was hard, especially one mocking an entire army. But he stood firm. He'd faced a lion, he'd faced a bear, all to protect the innocent sheep that were in his care. And now there was much more in his care. Not the army behind him, they could fight, they could defend themselves.
No he stood before this monster for something greater. His grip tightened on his sling as the giant mocked him, calling him a mere stick. He laughed and cursed him in the name of gods that he'd heard rumor of but never seen. His chest burned at hearing the man mock his God.
For a moment he thought he should defend his God, to proclaim him greater and higher than those that the giant invoked...no...his God didn't need defending. His God was able, his God was strong, his God was the true and almighty God. His actions would not be of defense but of attack.
"You come at me with mere weapons! I come in the name of the Lord! Of the God you have defied. Today giant is the day you die, the Lord will deliver you into this sticks hands! Today your whole army will fall to the might of the Lord and the world will know that it is not necessary to win a battle with weapons!"
The giant lunged.
---------------
On his face he begged for it to change. If there was another way, let that be the way this went.
There was only silence.
"Not my will but yours." He prayed.
He could feel comfort, he could feel victory, he need only endure and have faith.
----------------
He ran to the side and slid in the dirt turning quickly towards his would be attacker.
A stone was in his hand, placed into the pocket of the sling.
It whirred over his head, his full focus on the giant that was turning slowly toward him, his spear coming to bear.
There was no more fear. Only confidence, only victory. His faith was true.
So was his aim.
The sling released and the stone flew. He'd only needed one.
Thunk!
It was such an innocuous sound with such a great impact. The look in the giants eyes said it all. Surprise, astonishment, fear...and then nothing. He fell, a great hole in his head.
David stood barely breathing hard. His whole body awash with heat, a heat and fire deep in his chest and in his heart. He could feel the word of the Lord flowing through him say, "Well done."
-------------
"....but I believe in the God we follow. I don't know how we will win without fighting. I don't know that it's possible. However..." He leaned forward eyeing the prophet soberly. "If we are to die so that the Lord may have victory, then we will die with a song in our hearts and on our lips."
Slowly he stood feeling old though he still had many years to come.
The prophet watched him rise. "So what is your plan?"
"We will do as you have said, as the Lord has commanded. We will go out before the enemy. I'll put our warriors behind and I will put our singers at the front. If tomorrow is to be the day we meet our Lord then we will sing his praises as we fall." His confidence was unwavering. He wasn't sure if tomorrow would be the kind of victory that a general expected, a battle should always have a clear winner and loser and usually the loser was the one that died. But perhaps this God that he followed, defined winning differently.
Smiling the prophet stood. "I think that would be a great victory in and of itself my King. Instead of an army with weapons we will have an army with songs."
"Let it not be said that we didn't have faith, that we didn't follow through with our belief even when we faced death." The King said standing straight and tall. "I would have it be said that we sang even as we died, declaring our God."
----------------
"I need you here, I need you now...I need security somehow..." I was singing...I was laughing.
I was chuckling as I sang a song by a band my son loved. They were a christian band, though that definition was completely ridiculous. They were just a band that happened to sing songs about God and Jesus, they expressed their faith through their passion.
The anxiety was gone. The nervousness, the panic, the shuttering of my faith. That song...why did I start singing it? And why do I suddenly feel so happy, so...confident?
I opened my eyes and stared towards the stage.
One minute and I would be called out to argue the existence of God, to uphold my belief system.
Shaking my head I reached into my pocket and pulled out some of the cards I'd made with verses, quotes, and so called evidence. I tossed them in a trash can.
I understood now. This whole thing shouldn't be happening, I never should have agreed to argue about God. God wasn't an argument, and he most certainly didn't need me to fight his battles for him. He could do that on his own quite well, much better than I ever could. It isn't Him who needs me but the other way around. I need him desperately.
But now I am here and I am faced with a challenge. There's a giant standing before me, mocking my God with a smile on his face. There's an army surrounding me and yes, my destruction is all but assured. My memorized Bible verses ran through my head like a Rolodex, I pushed them aside. They were useful and very important, true. But there were other things too, things that would be much more useful in a battle.
Another song came to my mind.
The announcers spoke introducing the two debaters and several people looked toward me to go out on the stage. I smiled as I passed them singing under my breath one of my favorite old hymns. "Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing they praise...."
I didn't need an argument, I didn't need a sword. All I needed was a song to show my faith.
