"You go back to your menial, simple job and leave the important things to us." I've heard those words - maybe not word for word, but the meaning was the same. "You're out of your depth. Stick to what you know. We'll handle this."
In the ancient near east on a battle field, the first recorded conversation like this occurred. It was war. It wasn't going well. The army was terrified. The leader was indecisive. The enemy was emboldened. And a lot was riding on the outcome of this confrontation.
Enter the door dash guy bringing lunch to his brothers. He was a curious little guy somewhat out of place among the ranks of the soldiers and commanders. He was too small, too young, too inexperienced. He was really only there to drop off lunch and take back a progress report to his dad. But he asked too many questions, got too involved, too incensed by the status of the conflict.
David, the greatest King in Israel's history, didn't look much like a soldier let alone look like the next King. The prophet had gone through a long line of possible candidates before calling for the baby of the family out among the sheep. One by one, his brothers were passed over.
"Not you. Not you. Not you... got anyone else?"
Each one of them had been denied the crown in lieu of a shepherd with a baby face. Each one of them now on the battlefield with a giant taunting them. Each one secretly hoping they got passed over once again as they tried to determine who would face this brash and indomitable warrior before them.
Then the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches began to waft through the encampment. There he was - that pesky baby brother who had no business in a war nor on a throne. But you know what was his business - someone was calling out the armies of Israel and the very name of God was on the line. And as he dropped off his brothers' lunches, he picked up a cause. The kingdom was on the line and God was on his side. How could he fail?
Then his brother - the oldest brother, the first one overlooked for the succession to Saul's throne - Eliab, the soldier quaking in his boots, asked David who he had taking care of his little flock of sheep, and asserted that he shouldn't concern himself with something so important as this battle.
You know how the story goes from there. David defeats Goliath and goes on to become the most loved King of Israel and a critical part of the lineage of the Messiah.
Now I promise, I've never inserted myself into a military conflict like David did here. But I've heard the words of Eliab mostly in Christian circles from men who would rather women go back to their little Sunday School rooms and leave the teaching and preaching to someone who looks more like an authority. How could a "weaker vessel" shoulder the burden of Kingdom authority?
I simply want to remind my sisters in the Lord to take up their sword and take up their cross and engage in the warfare of the Kingdom. Wear your mantle with humility and grace and slay the giants who oppose the armies of God.
More importantly, remember who the enemy is. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places (Ephesians 6:12). The World needs your voice, your tenacity, your strength, your tenderness, and your experience as a shepherdess. The Eliabs of the Kingdom - the ones who want to "put you in your place" - are not the enemy. Uninformed? Unkind? Proud? Yes and yes and probably. Enemy? No. They're still family. Slay the giants and let the family pout in the background. We must be about the Kingdom work.
In the ancient near east on a battle field, the first recorded conversation like this occurred. It was war. It wasn't going well. The army was terrified. The leader was indecisive. The enemy was emboldened. And a lot was riding on the outcome of this confrontation.
Enter the door dash guy bringing lunch to his brothers. He was a curious little guy somewhat out of place among the ranks of the soldiers and commanders. He was too small, too young, too inexperienced. He was really only there to drop off lunch and take back a progress report to his dad. But he asked too many questions, got too involved, too incensed by the status of the conflict.
David, the greatest King in Israel's history, didn't look much like a soldier let alone look like the next King. The prophet had gone through a long line of possible candidates before calling for the baby of the family out among the sheep. One by one, his brothers were passed over.
"Not you. Not you. Not you... got anyone else?"
Each one of them had been denied the crown in lieu of a shepherd with a baby face. Each one of them now on the battlefield with a giant taunting them. Each one secretly hoping they got passed over once again as they tried to determine who would face this brash and indomitable warrior before them.
Then the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches began to waft through the encampment. There he was - that pesky baby brother who had no business in a war nor on a throne. But you know what was his business - someone was calling out the armies of Israel and the very name of God was on the line. And as he dropped off his brothers' lunches, he picked up a cause. The kingdom was on the line and God was on his side. How could he fail?
Then his brother - the oldest brother, the first one overlooked for the succession to Saul's throne - Eliab, the soldier quaking in his boots, asked David who he had taking care of his little flock of sheep, and asserted that he shouldn't concern himself with something so important as this battle.
You know how the story goes from there. David defeats Goliath and goes on to become the most loved King of Israel and a critical part of the lineage of the Messiah.
I simply want to remind my sisters in the Lord to take up their sword and take up their cross and engage in the warfare of the Kingdom. Wear your mantle with humility and grace and slay the giants who oppose the armies of God.
More importantly, remember who the enemy is. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places (Ephesians 6:12). The World needs your voice, your tenacity, your strength, your tenderness, and your experience as a shepherdess. The Eliabs of the Kingdom - the ones who want to "put you in your place" - are not the enemy. Uninformed? Unkind? Proud? Yes and yes and probably. Enemy? No. They're still family. Slay the giants and let the family pout in the background. We must be about the Kingdom work.