We started visiting a new church about two months ago (that's a story for another day—the part two of my last post, actually). Today marked the beginning of a new sermon series called "Enough Is Enough," and it was based on 1 Samuel 17.
If you’ve spent any time around church—or honestly, even if you haven’t—you’ve probably heard the story of David and Goliath. I know I’ve heard it more times than I can count.
But this time, I heard it differently.
The Philistines and the Israelites were facing each other in battle. One thing that stood out to me was this: God had already promised that land to the Israelites. It already belonged to them according to God’s promise.
Then chapter 17 goes into great detail describing Goliath:
“Nine feet, nine inches tall… wearing a bronze helmet and bronze scale armor weighing one hundred twenty-five pounds… carrying a massive spear with an iron point weighing fifteen pounds.”
In other words, Goliath was intimidating. He looked impossible to defeat. If we’re being honest, he wasn’t someone you’d volunteer to fight.
David, on the other hand, was the youngest of four. His three older brothers were in Saul’s army while David stayed behind tending sheep. He wasn’t a soldier. He didn’t have a title. He didn’t have influence or rank. He simply delivered food to his brothers and went back to caring for the sheep.
Then Goliath stepped forward and challenged Israel:
“Choose one of your men and have him come down against me…”
Scripture tells us that Saul and all of Israel lost their courage and were terrified.
But here’s the question that kept running through my mind:
Why?
Didn’t God already promise them this land?
Didn’t they believe in Him?
Hadn’t they already witnessed His miracles, signs, and wonders?
So why did all of that disappear the moment one giant started talking?
Where did their faith go?
It’s almost as if they forgot who had gone before them and who was standing beside them. Why would God promise them something only to abandon them when opposition showed up?
Then David enters the picture.
A young shepherd with no title, no military experience, no reputation to speak of.
And yet he volunteers.
Why?
Because David wasn’t putting his faith in himself.
He was putting his faith in God.
David remembered what everyone else had forgotten. The same God who had delivered him from lions and bears while protecting sheep was the same God who would deliver him from a Philistine who was openly defying the armies of the living God.
David understood something the rest of Israel had lost sight of:
God’s promises don’t disappear just because giants show up.
It didn’t matter how young David was.
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a soldier.
It didn’t matter that everyone else underestimated him.
What mattered was his faith.
David refused to let his position determine his perspective.
He had enough faith to step forward while everyone else stepped back.
This is the part that hit me like a ton of bricks.
I’m not the world’s greatest note-taker during sermons. I love when churches put notes on the screen because I can quickly write them down. Most of the time, though, I just want to listen. I want to receive what God is saying instead of worrying about writing every word.
Over time, I’ve learned what works for me. I record the message, jot down what I can in the moment, and go back later to fill in what I missed.
Today, while I was waiting for something to write down, the Lord gave me something I couldn’t ignore.
“I’ve been David in my own situations.”
That stopped me.
David addressed the issue.
He didn’t pretend Goliath wasn’t there.
He didn’t walk around him.
He didn’t wait for someone else to deal with him.
He confronted him.
And that made me ask myself…
How many “Goliaths” have we swept under the rug?
How many problems have we ignored because confronting them would make people uncomfortable?
How many times have we chosen silence because it was easier than speaking truth?
The sad reality is that in today’s world, David probably would’ve been labeled as the problem as so many of us often do, myself included.
Not because he caused the issue.
But because he confronted it.
We’ve become so comfortable avoiding conflict that we’ve started confusing peace with silence.
But ignoring a problem doesn’t make it disappear.
It only delays the inevitable.
Eventually, what has been buried always resurfaces.
And conforming to the problem doesn’t solve it either.
It simply makes us part of it.
As I reflected on today’s message, I couldn’t help but wonder how many battles we’re losing—not because the enemy is stronger, but because we’ve forgotten whose we are.
Maybe “Enough Is Enough” isn’t just a sermon series.
Maybe it’s a call.
A call to stop shrinking back.
A call to stop tolerating what God never asked us to tolerate.
A call to stop allowing fear to silence our faith.
David didn’t fight because he was fearless.
He fought because he knew God was faithful.
Sometimes the giant standing in front of us isn’t the real obstacle.
Sometimes the real battle is deciding whether we’ll trust God enough to take the first step.
Maybe today is the day we stop running.
Maybe today is the day we remember God’s promises.
Maybe today is the day we look at the giant in front of us and say…
Enough is Enough