The Lost Years of Jesus Christ
Page 5
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The Philistine army raided our encampment in the night. They aimed to kill our king while he slept. Goliath was among them. The monster hacked and slashed his way through our weary soldiers with ease. The desire to run and save myself was outweighed by concern for my king. I ran to his side, not even stopping to grab a sword. I had my sling, which I kept at my hip since the attack of the lioness, but there was only a single rock left in my pouch. “What good could one rock be?” I thought.
Goliath set his sights on Saul as he made his way across the camp. As he approached, time slowed to a crawl. I could see his every feature in full detail. Long black hair stuck out beneath his helmet, and rotting yellow teeth shown through a small slit in his grizzly black beard. Thick bronze armor, which no normal man could have supported, covered his entire body. Brave and foolish men raced at him, attempting to take his life for honor and glory, but all were cut down. The blood of my countrymen cascaded down his armor like rain down a mountainside. A rider galloped by on horseback, attempting to run Goliath through with a spear. Both horse and rider were dispatched with one stroke of his massive sword. The horse collapsed to the ground creating a cloud of dust. It was then that I discovered the giant’s one weakness.
Goliath writhed in pain as the dust flew into his eyes. His helmet only covered the top and sides of his head, not his face. No more than ten meters separated me from the giant, but the sudden realization that he was only a man calmed me and I stepped forward, placing myself between Saul and Goliath. I twirled the sling above my head, waiting for the right time to strike. Goliath laughed at me. What could such a small boy with only a sling do to hurt him?
“Is this your last line of defense? Such a pity, I hoped for a more thrilling fight.” The giant spoke his last words.
I hurled the stone towards him with all my might. It was a perfect strike. The rock entered his left eye with a great pop. His last laugh was still etched on his face as he fell to the ground, never to rise again. The entire battle stopped as all eyes moved to the invaders’ fallen champion. Enemies fled while allies gave chase and put them to the sword. When the dust settled, everyone gathered around me shouting their praises.
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David sure was a lot different than I was led to believe.
The stories Joshua was told always depicted David as a wise and fearless leader. When telling the tales of heroes, many forget that they were still men. Their brave and selfless actions are emphasized, and any misdeeds or failures in their lives are forgotten. The truth is that heroes bleed and fear the same as anyone else.
I need a break. This is getting too intense.
Joshua folded the corner of the page and closed the ancient book. He then picked up his father’s journal and flipped through the pages. He stopped when he noticed his mother’s name and learned an entirely different, yet just as fantastic, story about a king.
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Miriam has given birth to a beautiful baby boy. We named him Joshua. Never have I looked upon any living thing and felt such emotion, but I have been selfish to bring this boy into existence. He has no idea the burden he will bear; the legacy he must continue in secret. It’s an unfair thing to ask of anyone, but at least he can have thirteen carefree years before he learns of his responsibility. I confess that I often wonder whether there ever will be a Messiah. The world has become so detestable perhaps Adonai doesn’t believe it’s worth saving.