Start from Scratch
There was a time when the shepherd boy dropped the sword and picked up a stone (1 Samuel 17:39-40).
But as he aged, the battle plan grew more complex. In his youth, he looked at Goliath without fear; but over time, he started calculating and sizing up the enemy.
With this crack in pure worship, the door of opportunity opened for the devil:
“Then Satan stood against Israel and incited David to number Israel.” (1 Chronicles 21:1)
Five stones were enough for David as a boy. Now, he needed to know how many hundreds of thousands of swords were in his army.
The Lord gave David three options for discipline. Either (1) he would cut off the food, (2) kill Israel through human foes, or (3) send a plague through a divine sword. Instead of facing an invader, the mighty warrior chooses to lay down his armor and face the Lord.
The pestilence continues until David moves from the throne to the threshing floor. There, he decides to buy the land and build an altar:
“No, but I will buy them for the full price. I will not take for the LORD what is yours, nor offer burnt offerings that cost me nothing.” (1 Chronicles 21:24)
David’s heart turns from asking, “How much do I have?” to “How much can I give?” He stops counting his army and starts constructing an altar. Again, he abandons the sword and picks up a stone.
God tells the shepherd boy to start from scratch. He takes him from the throne of self-concern to the threshing floor of sacrifice—the place of holy separation.
At the threshing floor, the Lord removes the chaff to restore the grain of gratitude. He separates the complexity and fluff that have been clinging to the pure wheat of worship. He brings us back to the start and tells us to start again with a single stone.
When our worship grows complex and our confidence shifts from God to self, the Lord sends a dividing sword of discipline to make us face the question:
Son, is a stone still enough?
How long will you hold on to the sword that God has been trying to separate from your life? If you want to start cutting a stone, you have to drop the sword. You have to abandon the vanity of army-counting to put your attention on the altar of God.
The threshing floor of discipline became the foundation of the temple (cf. 1 Chronicles 22:1).
And so it is with us.
If we will surrender to God’s merciful sword of humiliation, we will find in the aftermath a new foundation of fresh beginnings.