“As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. Reaching into his bag and taking out a stone, he slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell facedown on the ground.”
- Samuel 17:48-49 NIV
I was down by the water the other evening with my human. Sun was slipping low, painting the lake all gold and quiet, and I was doing what a good dog does—sniffing everything like it might tell me a story.
My human picked up a flat rock and gave it a sling. That stone skipped across the water—one, two, three, four, five times—like it had somewhere important to be. I barked at it, of course. Seemed like the right thing to do.
Then he said something out loud, more to the sky than to me:
“One skipping stone laid the Philistine low.”
Now I may just be a dog, but I know that tone. That’s his “God just reminded me of something” voice.
He picked up another stone, turned it over in his hand, and I sat down beside him. Because when my human starts remembering God, I don’t want to miss it.
You see, that little stone skipping across the lake took him back to another stone—one placed in the hand of a shepherd boy named David.
Not a warrior.
Not a giant.
Just a boy who trusted a big God.
And it hit me—well, not like that stone hit Goliath—but it settled deep in my dog heart:
God doesn’t need much to do a whole lot.
One stone.
One sling.
One obedient heart.
That’s all it took to bring down something everybody else was too scared to face.
I watched that water settle back down after the ripples faded, and I thought about all the “giants” my human carries around.
Worries.
Fears.
Things too big for him.
Things too big for me too, if I’m being honest—and I chase mail trucks for a living.
But God?
He’s not worried about big.
He’s looking for willing.
My human threw another stone.
skip… skip… skip… skip… skip… skip… skip…
And I could almost hear it preaching:
“It’s not about the size of what’s in the paw… it’s about the strength of the One guiding the throw.”
Now I’ve never taken down a Philistine. Closest I got was a suspicious-looking rabbit. But I’ve seen what happens when my human stops trying to fight life in his own strength and starts trusting the One who made him.
Things change.
Peace comes in like a cool breeze over that lake.
Courage shows up where fear used to sit.
And those giants don’t look quite so big anymore.
I leaned up against my human’s leg, because that’s what I do when something true settles in. He scratched behind my ears, and we just sat there together—watching ripples fade and faith rise.
Funny thing is, that stone didn’t look like much.
But in the right hands…
With the right aim…
Backed by the power of God…
“One skipping stone laid the Philistine low.”
And if God can do that with a rock—
Imagine what He can do with you.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
