No Thanks, I’ll Pass on the Armor
There’s a short exchange in the story of David and Goliath that often gets passed over quickly. Before David faces Goliath, Saul offers him his royal armor. David tries it on, walks around a bit, and then decides against it. "I can't go in these," he says. "I'm not used to them." So he takes it off.
The Gear Doesn’t Match the Guy
It’s a practical decision, but it feels symbolic, too. David is surrounded by people who are older, more experienced, and more powerful. Everyone expects him to take whatever advantage he can get. But he says no to the king’s armor. Why?
David isn’t a soldier. He hasn’t trained for this kind of fight. What he has done is protect sheep from wild animals using a sling and a staff. He knows how to move quickly, aim well, and act under pressure. Those are his tools. The armor isn’t just unfamiliar—it actually limits him.
When Good Advice Doesn’t Fit
That makes me wonder how often people end up in the equivalent of Saul’s armor—taking on roles, strategies, or expectations that don't fit. Maybe out of fear, or pressure, or just wanting to do things the "right" way. But sometimes the things that work for others don't work for everyone.
There’s something quiet but compelling in David's choice. He recognizes what he isn't. And he leans into what he is, even if it doesn’t look impressive or traditional. It’s not that he thinks slings are better than swords—it’s that he knows which one he can actually use.
Questions Without Easy Answers
I don’t know what this means in every context, but it brings up questions. What kinds of expectations do people carry that might actually make it harder to do what they’re capable of? How do we decide when to listen to advice and when to stick with what we know?
Not Just a Story About Courage
This story often gets framed as a lesson about courage, and maybe it is. But today, it reads more like a moment about self-awareness. David knows himself well enough to make an unpopular choice. And that’s what gets him to the battlefield on his own terms.
It leaves me thinking less about slaying giants and more about all the small, unseen decisions that happen before any big moment—like whether to wear someone else’s armor or go with what you’ve practiced all along.