Three Angels Broadcasting Network Devotional
Facing Big Foot
By J.D. Quinn | September 12
“Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57
The harvest moon spilled its bright glow through the trees and onto the lot, where my academy friends and I were carrying out our assignment. The four of us—fourteen years old—were to build a bonfire for our school’s event, scheduled for later that night.
As we piled wood in the center of the tree-lined lot, we heard the rumble of dual glasspack mufflers! We exchanged nervous glances and held our breath, in hopes he would drive on by, but soon we saw that infamous shiny black coupe that everyone in the county knew meant trouble.
“Oh, no! It’s Big Foot Bob!” someone said. Big Foot was the biggest bully in the county. A hulk of a man, he preferred to pick on
young kids.
My mind was racing, but I couldn’t will my feet to move. Then, a booming voice hollered from the window, “What do you punks think you’re doing out here? This is my territory! You’d better scram now or I’m going to hurt you bad!” To punctuate his threat, he gassed his engine and his mufflers roared.
The moon cast shadows across his scraggly beard and contorted face. Too tall to fit comfortably in his car, his six-foot-seven frame was hunched over the steering wheel, making him appear that much more ominous. Suddenly, he slung open the car door, spewing curse words I had never heard before. I was the tallest of the four, so he fixed his angry gaze on me.
“Oh, God,” I secretly prayed, “please don’t let him hurt us!”
God knew my enemy’s vulnerability, and answered. As Big Foot lunged from his car, one of his oversized feet hung up between the clutch and the brake pedal. Sprawled on the ground, he spit dirt as he lifted his face. Cursing, he scrambled to get his foot loose, heaved himself back into the car, and peeled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. I’ll never forget the echo of those glasspacks as he headed south.
When David met Goliath, I wonder if he—like me—got a lump in his throat as he surveyed his larger-than-life opponent. Or was David so certain of victory God would give him, that his mouth never went dry as the giant spewed his murderous threats? Either way, God directed the smooth stone David slung to hit Goliath in his one vulnerable spot—his forehead; right between his eyes—and the big-foot Philistine fell on his face to the earth (1 Samuel 17:49).
When we’re in His army, the battle belongs to God. He gives us the victory!
Facing Big Foot
By J.D. Quinn | September 12
“Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57
The harvest moon spilled its bright glow through the trees and onto the lot, where my academy friends and I were carrying out our assignment. The four of us—fourteen years old—were to build a bonfire for our school’s event, scheduled for later that night.
As we piled wood in the center of the tree-lined lot, we heard the rumble of dual glasspack mufflers! We exchanged nervous glances and held our breath, in hopes he would drive on by, but soon we saw that infamous shiny black coupe that everyone in the county knew meant trouble.
“Oh, no! It’s Big Foot Bob!” someone said. Big Foot was the biggest bully in the county. A hulk of a man, he preferred to pick on
young kids.
My mind was racing, but I couldn’t will my feet to move. Then, a booming voice hollered from the window, “What do you punks think you’re doing out here? This is my territory! You’d better scram now or I’m going to hurt you bad!” To punctuate his threat, he gassed his engine and his mufflers roared.
The moon cast shadows across his scraggly beard and contorted face. Too tall to fit comfortably in his car, his six-foot-seven frame was hunched over the steering wheel, making him appear that much more ominous. Suddenly, he slung open the car door, spewing curse words I had never heard before. I was the tallest of the four, so he fixed his angry gaze on me.
“Oh, God,” I secretly prayed, “please don’t let him hurt us!”
God knew my enemy’s vulnerability, and answered. As Big Foot lunged from his car, one of his oversized feet hung up between the clutch and the brake pedal. Sprawled on the ground, he spit dirt as he lifted his face. Cursing, he scrambled to get his foot loose, heaved himself back into the car, and peeled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. I’ll never forget the echo of those glasspacks as he headed south.
When David met Goliath, I wonder if he—like me—got a lump in his throat as he surveyed his larger-than-life opponent. Or was David so certain of victory God would give him, that his mouth never went dry as the giant spewed his murderous threats? Either way, God directed the smooth stone David slung to hit Goliath in his one vulnerable spot—his forehead; right between his eyes—and the big-foot Philistine fell on his face to the earth (1 Samuel 17:49).
When we’re in His army, the battle belongs to God. He gives us the victory!
Three Angels Broadcasting Network Devotional
Facing Big Foot
By J.D. Quinn | September 12
“Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57
The harvest moon spilled its bright glow through the trees and onto the lot, where my academy friends and I were carrying out our assignment. The four of us—fourteen years old—were to build a bonfire for our school’s event, scheduled for later that night.
As we piled wood in the center of the tree-lined lot, we heard the rumble of dual glasspack mufflers! We exchanged nervous glances and held our breath, in hopes he would drive on by, but soon we saw that infamous shiny black coupe that everyone in the county knew meant trouble.
“Oh, no! It’s Big Foot Bob!” someone said. Big Foot was the biggest bully in the county. A hulk of a man, he preferred to pick on
young kids.
My mind was racing, but I couldn’t will my feet to move. Then, a booming voice hollered from the window, “What do you punks think you’re doing out here? This is my territory! You’d better scram now or I’m going to hurt you bad!” To punctuate his threat, he gassed his engine and his mufflers roared.
The moon cast shadows across his scraggly beard and contorted face. Too tall to fit comfortably in his car, his six-foot-seven frame was hunched over the steering wheel, making him appear that much more ominous. Suddenly, he slung open the car door, spewing curse words I had never heard before. I was the tallest of the four, so he fixed his angry gaze on me.
“Oh, God,” I secretly prayed, “please don’t let him hurt us!”
God knew my enemy’s vulnerability, and answered. As Big Foot lunged from his car, one of his oversized feet hung up between the clutch and the brake pedal. Sprawled on the ground, he spit dirt as he lifted his face. Cursing, he scrambled to get his foot loose, heaved himself back into the car, and peeled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. I’ll never forget the echo of those glasspacks as he headed south.
When David met Goliath, I wonder if he—like me—got a lump in his throat as he surveyed his larger-than-life opponent. Or was David so certain of victory God would give him, that his mouth never went dry as the giant spewed his murderous threats? Either way, God directed the smooth stone David slung to hit Goliath in his one vulnerable spot—his forehead; right between his eyes—and the big-foot Philistine fell on his face to the earth (1 Samuel 17:49).
When we’re in His army, the battle belongs to God. He gives us the victory!
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