Springtime arrives around 990 b.c. with the scent of damp earth and blooming almond trees. The season signals the terrible march of war. Joab leads the Israelite army across the Jordan River to lay waste to the city of Rabbah. Dust coats the thick leather sandals of the soldiers as they breach the gates. They pull a massive crown from the head of the Ammonite king. It weighs nearly seventy-five pounds, a suffocating mass of cold gold and precious stones. Placing such an object on a human head bends the neck under a brutal physical burden.

The Lord moves quietly in the shadow of these massive human achievements. Men craft heavy metal to signify earthly power. God orchestrates strength in the unassuming. Giants step forward onto the battlefield at Gezer and Gath. These warriors carry immense physical stature, swinging spears with solid wooden shafts as thick as a heavy loom's timber. Human strength meets its absolute limit against such terrifying odds. The Creator sustains the hands of ordinary men like Sibbecai and Jonathan. He does not require gold or oversized weapons to establish His kingdom. His power flows through the steady grip of a weary Israelite soldier facing an opponent with six fingers on each hand.

The thick, polished wood of a heavy loom hums with terrifying weight when swung as a weapon. Giant figures rise in the quiet battles of our later years. A looming health diagnosis or an echoing, empty house feels just as imposing as a warrior armed with a massive wooden spear. Gravity presses down from the sheer scale of the trial. The rough timber looks intimidating. Aging hands reach out to touch the obstacle, feeling the physical tremors of frailty against a monumental weight. True endurance relies entirely on the unseen support of the Lord. Releasing the tight grip of fear happens when we sense Him standing right beside us on the field.

The rough grain of that wooden spear shaft splinters against the ground when the giant falls. Dust settles quickly over the broken timber. The heavy gold crown sits cold and motionless in a treasury chamber, locked far away from the bright sunlight.

A golden crown crushes the wearer, but the quiet presence of the Lord lifts the face.