1 Samuel 17:28-30 Now Eliab his eldest brother heard when he spoke to the men. And Eliab's anger was kindled against David, and he said, “Why have you come down? And with whom have you left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know your presumption and the evil of your heart, for you have come down to see the battle.” And David said, “What have I done now? Was it not but a word?” And he turned away from him toward another, and spoke in the same way, and the people answered him again as before.
Traveling across America in this climate of national stress, I’ve been repeatedly shocked to witness violent atrocities against the United States government. While many of the protests have been peaceful demonstrations, numerous others have been characterized by a level of violent and seemingly vengeful anger, involving intentional destruction of property with losses in the millions of dollars.
So far, I’ve witnessed significant destruction in Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland, and Denver. Unbridled vandalism in these cities, on government buildings and local businesses, was perpetrated on an unprecedented scale, beyond anything I have ever seen in this country. Anti-government messages, pentagrams, and fascist symbols have been spray-painted in widespread acts of vitriol. All told, and only up to this point, tens of millions of dollars in physical damage must be added to the incalculable pain, suffering, and shock of these local communities.
Visiting these cities where massive protests have taken place, and going to the sites of protests to inquire of the local citizens, I've been asking the same question … “Did you know it was this bad?” Over and over again, the response is invariably, “No!” Those who have shown up when I happened to be there are amazed at the amount of destruction that took place, and they form a company of dismayed witnesses to the clear and revolting reality, that at least in this city, these were not peaceful protests in any way shape or form. The inevitable next question: “How on Earth was this permitted to go on!?”
The question resounds in my own spirit now, and I'm remembering David. I suggest that he faced something similar as Goliath stood in all his height and strength, defying the armies of Israel, appearing utterly invincible. David simply looked over at the Philistine, and back at the Israelite army, and said, “How can you allow this to go on?”
Apart from the response of Eliab, his older brother, and all the others, whose mixture of perplexity, pride, fear, jealousy, and contempt confronted David, the young shepherd's simplicity was anything but naive. David himself was perplexed at the paralysis of his people. And his simple question filled them with the conviction of cowardice and lack of faith.
My simple observation is that America is facing a violent army of invading "Philistines" bent on nothing less than the destruction of the nation. And somehow, Americans have been paralyzed by the enemy's sheer bravado and terrifying violence. A massive silent majority may well be wondering if there might be a "David" anywhere in the camp.
A strategy for battle begins with a will to fight. A young shepherd was not about to sit by and watch this humiliating travesty. This was a defining characteristic of Israel's greatest King. In those days it involved physical battle, and David's weapons were a sling and a stone. What strategy might our God provide against these modern Philistine giants? We will certainly never know if we sit back in fear or complacency and watch the destruction go on. Some of us are pacifists, others believe in "just war", yet we should all be on the same page about one thing: our battle is primarily spiritual and requires the use of spiritual weapons, and strategy from God Himself. This violence cannot be tolerated, and I don't expect it to just go away. Lord give us the courage and will to fight, in YOUR way with your weapons, and be glorified in the victory you accomplish.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Elijah had just come through one of the most intense seasons of his life. He had called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, seen the prophets of Baal defeated, and yet found himself running in fear from Jezebel, exhausted and discouraged. In the cave at Horeb, he cried out, believing he was alone and that all was lost. But it was there—in the still small voice—that God revealed His presence and His plan.
Over the weekend, the United States launched a bold operation aimed at ending Iran’s nuclear program. In the quiet of the night, unseen by human eyes, B-2 Spirit bombers initiated Operation Midnight Hammer—a precision strike designed to eliminate hidden threats before they could bring harm. With unmatched stealth, they cut through the darkness, delivering a decisive blow against danger.
Every true move of revival begins where few look for it—at the hidden brook, in the quiet place of God’s pruning. Cherith (נַחַל כְּרִית) means to cut off, to separate, to covenant. Before Elijah could stand on Mount Carmel and call down fire, he had to be separated, set apart for God’s purposes.
Before God’s servants can stand in high places before men, they must first bow low before Him. Elijah, fresh from proclaiming God’s judgment to Ahab, might have felt indispensable to God’s plan. Yet the following command was unexpected: “Hide yourself.” The brook Cherith became Elijah’s place of humbling, where pride was stripped away, self-reliance was broken, and his soul learned the sweetness of depending on God alone.
God’s servants must learn to walk by faith–one step at a time. This is a simple lesson, yet one that challenges even the most faithful. Consider Elijah: before he left his quiet home in Thisbe to stand before King Ahab with the word of the Lord, how many questions must have stirred his heart!
As we continue our journey through the life of Elijah, let us take heart in this: Elijah was a man just like us. He was not born with heroic strength or unshakable resolve. He knew weakness, fear, and moments of failure—the same struggles we face. And yet, this one man, by faith, stood alone against a tide of sin and idolatry. By faith, he turned a nation back to God.
Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.