Jul 13 2019 1 Samuel 17: 31-49

Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail.

The Philistines, enemies of Israel at the time, were mounting an offense, sending a big warrior to fight. Saul was looking for someone to fight, and after the other options were nixed, ended up with the young, ruddy herder, David. There were doubts whether David was up to the battle, but he assured Saul that in the course of his sheep herding, he’d taken on lions and bears. So he was the chosen one.

Saul prepared David, giving him his armor and strapped on his sword. With all this heavy battle gear, it says David “tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them”. I can imagine that, young David in the oversized, unaccustomed armor, tottering around, absolutely unprepared for battle. So David removed the armor, and picked up the tools of his trade, including a staff and smooth stones. That’s all he head when he headed off to battle Goliath.

This morning, I’m thinking about Saul putting the ill-fitting armor on David, it not working for David, and David removing it.

We do that don’t we? We try to prepare for battle using other people’s tools and tricks and swords. The self-help section of any book store is proof of that, or Pinterist. Sometimes we learn good tricks. Sometimes it’s worth it.

But sometimes it seems we assume other people’s armor, and don’t know enough to take it off. It’s ill fitting, and we can’t walk, and still we head into battle. How much better we’d be if we just used the tools we have, our own staff and pocket of rocks.

With my sick loved one, I hear lots of suggestions and get lots of tips and advice, both personally and through various support groups. Some of it is very helpful or comforting. Most people mean well. They offer comforting words, insightful observations, or great self-care advice. But some people don’t mean well. They blame our loved one, or us, or circumstances. I read about caregivers who take extraordinary measures, with extraordinary personal costs. I read about ‘tough love’ types of resolutions. Or laissez-faire. Or better living through illicit drugs. Or..

Like Saul, many of these people are simply trying to arm me for the battle ahead. Like David, I need to be aware of whether the armor fits and is helpful, or whether I need to leave it. If I need to pick up my staff and smooth stones, and head in with what I know.

Of course, it’s hard to know what works before hand. And the advice that doesn’t work isn’t as physically apparently wrong as ill-fitting armor. And some new suggestions or ways of thinking are helpful. So it’s not about avoiding all new things.

Rather, I think it’s about knowing what my staff and rocks are – what are the tools I already have, and know how to use. And carefully assuming anything new, and determining if it’s really useful, or if it makes me teeter around in ill-fitting armor.