Max Lucado by Facing Your Giants Page A

her, the fifth removed all doubt. She is destined for marital flops.
    People and their proverbial hang-ups. Pete always speaks before he thinks. Joe always fails where he should succeed. This dear woman wins at marriage as often as a burro wins at Churchill Downs.
    And you. Does one prevailing problem leech your life?
    Some are prone to cheat. Others quick to doubt. Maybe you worry. Yes, everyone worries some, but you own the national distributorship of anxiety. Perhaps you are judgmental. Sure, everybody can be critical, but you pass more judgments than a federal judge.
    What is that one weakness, bad habit, rotten attitude? Where does Satan have a stronghold within you? Ahh, there is the fitting word— stronghold: a fortress, citadel, thick walls, tall gates. It’s as if the devil staked a claim on one weakness and constructed a rampart around it. “You ain’t touching this flaw,” he defies heaven, placing himself squarely between God’s help and your
    â€¢ explosive temper,
    â€¢ fragile self-image,
    â€¢ freezer-size appetite,
    â€¢ distrust for authority.
    Seasons come and go, and this Loch Ness monster still lurks in the water-bottom of your soul. He won’t go away. He lives up to both sides of his compound name: strong enough to grip like a vise and stubborn enough to hold on. He clamps like a bear trap—the harder you shake, the more it hurts.
    Strongholds: old, difficult, discouraging challenges.
    That’s what David faced when he looked at Jerusalem. When you and I think of the city, we envision temples and prophets. We picture Jesus teaching, a New Testament church growing. We imagine a thriving, hub-of-history capital.
    When David sees Jerusalem in 1000 BC, he sees something else. He sees a millennium-old, cheerless fortress, squatting defiantly on the spine of a ridge of hills. A rugged outcropping elevates her. Tall walls protect her. Jebusites indwell her. No one bothers them. Philistines fight the Amalekites. Amalekites fight the Hebrews. But the Jebusites? They are a coiled rattlesnake in the desert. Everyone leaves them alone.
    Everyone, that is, except David. The just-crowned king of Israel has his eye on Jerusalem. He’s inherited a divided kingdom. The people need, not just a strong leader, but strong headquarters. David’s present base of Hebron sits too far south to enlist the loyal-ties of the northern tribes. But if he moves north, he’ll isolate the south. He seeks a neutral, centralized city.
    He wants Jerusalem. We can only wonder how many times he’s stared at her walls. He grew up in Bethlehem, only a day’s walk to the south. He hid in the caves in the region of En Gedi, not far south. Surely he noticed Jerusalem. Somewhere he pegged the place as the perfect capital. The crown had scarcely been resized for his head when he set his eyes on his newest Goliath.
    And the king and his men went to Jerusalem against the Jebusites, the inhabitants of the land, who spoke to David, saying, “You shall not come in here; but the blind and the lame will repel you,” . . . Nevertheless David took the stronghold of Zion (that is, the City of David). Now David said on that day, “Whoever climbs up by way of the water shaft and defeats the Jebusites . . .he shall be chief and captain.” . . . Then David dwelt in the stronghold, and called it the City of David. (2 Sam. 5:6–9)
    This regrettably brief story tantalizes us with the twofold appear-ance of the term stronghold. In verse 7, “David took the stronghold,” and in verse 9, “David dwelt in the stronghold.”
    Jerusalem meets the qualifications of one: an old, difficult, and discouraging fortress. From atop the turrets, Jebusite soldiers have ample time to direct arrows at any would-be wall climbers. And discouraging? Just listen to the way the city-dwellers taunt David. “You’ll never get in here. . . . Even the blind and lame could keep you