It seems that everywhere I turn lately, someone is carrying something heavy. A health report that changed everything. Financial pressure that keeps them awake at night. Long-standing battles that feel like giants refusing to fall.
But Scripture reminds us that giants are not new.
God’s Word invites us to look at stories like David’s not as fairy tales of the past, but as living examples of what intimacy with God produces in a person.
We love the story of David and Goliath. We love the underdog moment. The sling. The stone. The victory shout.
But I sense that the giant was never the point of this story. The real story began long before the valley. It began in the fields.
Identity Was Formed in the Quiet
Before David ever faced Goliath, he faced lions and bears.
In 1 Samuel 17:34–37, David tells Saul that the Lord delivered him from the paw of the lion and the bear. Notice what he doesn’t say. He doesn’t brag about his aim. He doesn’t talk about his strength.
He talks about the Lord.
That kind of confidence doesn’t appear overnight. It is forged in secret places.
It was in the fields, under open skies, that David learned who he was. The Psalms reveal it. Over and over again in Psalm, we hear the voice of a young shepherd overwhelmed by the nearness of God:
“The Lord is my shepherd…” (Psalm 23)
“O God, You are my God…” (Psalm 63)
“I love You, O Lord, my strength…” (Psalm 18)
David didn’t discover God in crisis. He discovered Him in communion.
And communion built identity.
Intimacy Produced Fearlessness
By the time David stood in front of Goliath in 1 Samuel 17:45–47, there was no tremor in his voice.
“You come to me with sword and spear… but I come to you in the name of the Lord.”
No fear. No hesitation. No internal negotiation.
Why?
Because giants look different when you know Who stands with you.
David’s sureness came from being deeply rooted in the love and faithfulness of God. He knew he was chosen. He knew he was seen. He knew he was kept.
And that knowledge was born in worship.
Praise Builds the Inner Man
David was not perfect. Scripture is honest about that. He was a sinner, just like every person before the cross.
And yet, he was called “a man after God’s own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14).
Why?
Because his reflex was always toward God.
When he was afraid — he praised.
When he was hunted — he worshipped.
When he failed — he repented and ran back.
When he rejoiced — he danced (2 Samuel 6:14).
Praise was not an event in David’s life. It was his lifestyle.
And that lifestyle built a spiritual backbone that no giant could intimidate.
The Same Is Available to Us
We stand in an even stronger position than David did.
Through Christ, we are not striving to be loved — we are already declared righteous. Our identity is secure. We are sons and daughters.
But intimacy still matters. Because if David, under the old covenant, with God with him, could tear a lion from its prey and strike down a giant with a stone — what excuse do we have now that God is not merely with us, but in us?
David knew the presence of God as companion. We know Him as indwelling Spirit.
David stepped into battle empowered by visitation. We step into life inhabited by habitation.
If a shepherd boy who had not yet seen the cross, not yet received the Spirit, not yet been declared the righteousness of God, could stand without fear before Goliath, how much more should we stand steady before the giants that taunt us?
We are not fighting for identity. We are fighting from identity.
We are not hoping God shows up. He already has.
The same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead lives in us. That is not poetic language. That is explosive reality. And if that is true — truly true — how can praise be occasional?
How can worship be reserved for Sundays?
Exultant praise should feel inevitable.
David rejoiced because he believed God was near. We rejoice because God has made His home in us.
If intimacy with God produced that kind of courage in a shepherd boy, what should intimacy produce in Spirit-filled sons and daughters?
Boldness.
Authority.
Joy that defies circumstances.
A confidence that makes giants look almost… outdated.
Praise is no longer just response — it is agreement with who lives inside us.
And when you live aware of that indwelling presence, exultation stops being an emotional spike and becomes a lifestyle.
Giants don’t stand a chance against a believer who knows who they carry.
You don’t gain identity through striving.
You grow confident in your identity through communion.
When you worship in the storm, something shifts.
When you praise while the diagnosis looms…
When you lift your hands while finances shake…
When you speak God’s promises while fear whispers…
You are building the same inner certainty David carried into that valley.
Praise aligns your heart.
Worship magnifies God.
And when God becomes bigger in your sight, giants become smaller.
Speak to the Mountain
David didn’t negotiate with Goliath.
He declared! He spoke! He moved forward. He acted from conviction.
Jesus later echoes this principle — that mountains move when we speak in faith.
And faith is strengthened in relationship.
If you are facing a giant right now — a health battle, a prodigal child, financial strain, fear, shame, addiction — the strategy is not panic.
It is praise flowing from the understanding and total belief that you are the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus!!
Not denial of reality. Exaltation of God above it.
The field prepared David for the valley.
Worship is forged in the quiet. Praise erupts in the valley. The giant is loud. But intimacy makes you louder.
And when you know you are the beloved righteousness of God, you walk into valleys with a sling in your hand and absolute sureness in your heart.
The giant was never the point.
Identity was.
Tales from the Tangled Trail 