Lessons from David | Name Your Giant
- Adam Schell

- 4 days ago
- 3 min read

Goliath stopped and called out to the Israelite troops, "Why have you come out to take up battle formations? I'm the Philistine champion, and you are Saul's servants. So select one of your men, and let him come down against me. If he is able to fight me and kill me, then we will become your slaves. But if I overcome him and kill him, then you will become our slaves and you will serve us." The Philistine continued, "I insult Israel's troops today! Give me a man so we can fight each other!" When Saul and all the Israelites heard what the Philistine said, they were dismayed and terrified.
1 Samuel 17:8-11 (CEB)
There's something about naming a problem that makes it feel more real. As long as we keep things vague, saying things like "I'm stressed," "Things are hard," "I'm going through something," we can kind of pretend it's not that serious.
But when we actually name it? When we say out loud what we're facing? That's when it becomes real. That's when we have to deal with it.
The Israelite army had a giant problem. Literally. His name was Goliath, and for forty days he stood in that valley and hurled insults at them. Every single day, he challenged them to send someone to fight him. Every single day, the entire army was "dismayed and terrified."
But even though everyone was terrified, no one wanted to name the problem. No one wanted to admit out loud that they were facing something they couldn't handle. They just stood there, day after day, hoping the problem would go away.
And we do the same thing. We face giants in our lives, from medical diagnoses that terrify us to financial crises that keep us up at night to relationships that are falling apart, but we don't want to name them. We don't want to admit how scared we are. We don't want to acknowledge that we're facing something bigger than we can handle.
So we just...stand there. Hoping the giant will go away. Hoping things will somehow get better on their own. Hoping we won't have to face what we're facing.
But you can't defeat a giant you won't name. David couldn't have defeated Goliath if he'd pretended the giant wasn't there. The Israelite army couldn't have won the battle if they'd just ignored the nine-foot-tall warrior hurling insults at them every day.
And you can't experience God's presence in your struggle if you won't admit you're struggling.
So what giant are you facing? What's the thing that keeps you up at night? What's the problem that makes you feel "dismayed and terrified"?
Maybe it's a medical diagnosis that has you worried about the future. Maybe it's a financial situation that feels impossible to fix. Maybe it's a relationship that's breaking your heart. Maybe it's anxiety or depression that makes every day feel overwhelming. Maybe it's grief that won't let you go.
Whatever it is, name it. Name it out loud. Not because naming it gives it more power, but because naming it is the first step toward facing it.
I know it's scary to name your giant. As long as we keep things vague, we can maintain some illusion of control. We can tell ourselves it's not that bad. We can pretend we've got it handled.
But the Israelite army stood there for forty days, terrified and paralyzed, because they wouldn't face their giant. And nothing changed until someone was willing to acknowledge the problem and step into the valley.
The same is true for us. Nothing changes until we're willing to name what we're facing. Nothing changes until we're willing to name what we're facing.
And here's what this week is going to teach us: Once we name our giant, we can learn to face it with confidence—not because we're strong enough to defeat it, but because God is with us. Once we acknowledge the danger, we can discover that we don't have to face it alone.
But it starts with being honest. With naming your giant. With admitting that you're facing something bigger than you can handle on your own.
Prayer
God, I'm going to be honest with you—and with myself—about what I'm facing. Here's my giant: [name your specific struggle]. It terrifies me. It feels bigger than I can handle. I've been trying to ignore it, minimize it, pretend it's not that serious. But it is. And I need your help. I can't face this alone. So I'm naming it, acknowledging it, and asking you to meet me here. Give me the courage to face what I've been avoiding. Help me to trust that you're with me, even when I'm terrified. Amen.





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