Son to Warrior
Courage is not self-made. It is received. My story of being a zealous Christian, an unfocused soldier, and a son formed by the King.
There is a kind of courage that looks holy on the outside, but is still tangled with pride underneath.
God loves us too much to leave it there.
“I myself will also go out with you” (2 Samuel 18:2).
That line brought me back this morning.
David said it while he was on the run from his own son.
Absalom had manipulated his way toward the throne. He was politically sharp, powerful, and outwardly impressive. But inside, he was corrupt. He built a name for himself, even a monument, but his name did not last.
David was different.
He was not perfect. Far from it.
His failures make us ache for the better King, Jesus.
But in this moment, David stood before his men and said, “I myself will also go out with you.”
He was willing to go to the front.
But Psalm 3 lets us hear what was happening underneath David’s courage.
“O LORD, how many are my foes!
Many are rising against me.”
David was surrounded.
His son had betrayed him.
His enemies were multiplying.
People were saying, “There is no salvation for him in God.”
But David did not make himself the source.
He prayed, “But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.”
That is where courage came from.
Not ego.
Not image.
Not being the toughest man in the room.
David could stand before his men because he had first cried out before his God.
The battlefield did not make David brave.
Over years of hilltops and valleys, the Lord made David dependent.
That brought me back to Afghanistan.
Years ago, I said yes to building and leading a mortar team against ISIS.
My yes came from zeal for my soldiers. I had no desire to be behind enemy lines while my men were on the front lines. I could not live with myself if something happened to them while I stayed back.
But underneath that courage, God was working on something deeper.
I was in year five of my military contract. I was an LNO, a “least needed officer.” At least that is how it felt.
I had spent much of my early military career in the Guard as a zealous evangelist. I skipped Sunday military meetings to go to church and often lead church.
My heart burned for Jesus.
But over time, the Lord began to show me something.
James, I love your heart for Me.
But I also want you to wear the uniform well.
That correction hurt, but looking back, it was mercy.
I had been a zealous Christian, but not always a faithful soldier.
So I started taking the craft seriously.
I signed up for specialty schools. I went to Air Assault School at Fort Benning. I was humbled by incredible drill sergeants. I received the tab. Then I started preparing for Ranger School.
But last minute, I went to Mortar School instead.
Why?
Because I wanted the men I would lead to know I cared more about the craft than the pride of another badge.
Then I failed Mortar School by one question on a four-hour exam.
One question.
I begged to stay.
They sent me home.
But the Lord still kept me as the mortar platoon leader.
That is grace.
Not because I earned it. Not because I proved myself. Not because I had mastered any sort of moment.
Because God gives what we do not deserve and carries us where we cannot carry ourselves.
David’s courage did not come from being self-made.
Mine did not either.
God had protected David in the wilderness.
God had fed David in the wilderness.
God had trained David in hidden places before He strengthened him in public places.
Then, when the next faithful step came, David could say, “I myself will also go out with you.”
In Afghanistan, we were regularly shot at.
We lived for five months in hostile territory.
We fired thousands of rounds.
But in the middle of all of it, one name remained above every other name.
God’s name.
The Lord taught me to pray for my enemies before I prayed for justice.
He taught me that my first priority was not revenge, victory, or even survival.
My first priority was faithfulness.
So a little seven-person church was born in the middle of war.
Every Sunday, the same soldiers I fought beside were invited to worship.
The Afghan soldiers were invited too, even though many of them were Muslim.
It was there in Nangarhar Province that I was formed.
Not by war.
By the King of kings.
He sought me as His son.
He strengthened me.
He loved me.
He guided me.
It was there I performed my first baptism in front of around fifty soldiers.
It was there I saw the hand of God show up through His Word, day after day after day.
You do not have to be hunted by men with weapons to need prayer.
You do not have to be on a literal battlefield to need the Word.
You are being hunted.
The enemy has studied you.
He knows your weak places. He knows your pride. He knows your fear. He knows the shortcuts you are tempted to take.
But Jesus is stronger.
And Jesus does not merely send you to the front.
He went first.
He faced sin, death, judgment, and the grave. He died for sinners. He rose in victory. And by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, He gives life to all who come to Him.
David was a king who wanted to go with his men.
Jesus is the King who went before His people.
David’s courage points beyond David.
My story points beyond me.
Every gift comes from above.
So be patient with the journey.
There will be hills and valleys.
Mountaintops and rivers.
Hidden places and front lines.
But there is only one Source.
Go to Jesus every day.
Ask to know Him.
Receive from Him.
Abide in Him.
Then take the next faithful step.
You may never stand on a battlefield.
But every day, you will stand somewhere that requires received courage.
And in Christ, you are not standing alone.
Have Jesus for breakfast.
The point of my writing is simple: I want you to know Jesus.
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