Lesson 162: He Will Deliver Me

Kentucky Chaplain David Chaltas

There is a delightful legend that I wish to share with you this day. It seems there was this peaceful tribe of Native Americans who lived in a deep valley. They lived off the land, growing crops such as corn, potatoes, and beans. Occasionally they would hunt but always pray for the animal that they had to kill in order to survive. Living in the mountains, with only one heavily guarded trail in and out of their village, were a tribe of warring men who lived off of hunting and taking from the people in the valley. They would raid a couple of times a year and the people of the valley became so accustomed to the raids that they would place food outside the village in order to keep the warriors from the mountain from entering. This had been the custom for many moons.

The Old Chief of the mountain warriors died and his son took over as the war chief. He decided that they would begin raiding whenever he chose to do so, and that he would take captives as well. Upon his first raid he took the village by surprise, robbing and looting. There was a small boy of six years that he saw and decided he would take him back and make him his personal slave. They left with their bounty and the war chief doubled the warriors along the narrow pass into the mountain fortress. The little boy cried for his daddy and was whipped for his crying. The boy insisted that his father would come. “He will deliver me,” he would repeat over and over again to the snarls of the wicked chief.

The father had been hunting and when he came back, to his horror his village had been ransacked and his little boy stolen. He immediately started getting ready to go after his son. The village elders came to him and said that he would surely be killed if he attempted such a journey. The mountain pass could not be crossed due to the sheer cliff and defenses. Their fortress had never been reached. He would not be moved and determinedly stated, “I will deliver him.” He quietly dawned his warrior clothes along with painting his face to prepare his destiny.

Being of brave heart, he boldly went into the pass and faced the first two warriors. He pleaded to the warriors to let him pass but the warrior mocked him, spit at him, and charged. He fought with a father’s fury and managed to kill one while the other ran to warn the others. As he approached another overhang, three men jumped down upon him but mustering all his inner strength and love for his child, he endured, receiving lashes and a deep gash in his chest. Yet he walked on.

The warrior who had escaped the boy’s father was told to go warn the village that one man had killed four of the greatest warriors single handedly. Upon hearing of the man’s bravery, the Old Shaman of the tribe went to the war chief and told him that the boy’s father was too brave to die and that he must return the boy to him. The war chief said no, but the will of the people was building to honor the man seeking his son. The War Chief called for his greatest warrior and said to the Shaman that if the man killed this great warrior of forty battles, then he would allow the man to come into the village unharmed.

The great warrior went out and met the wounded man. He stood on a point for just a moment and with a shriek, charged the boy’s father. He thrust his spear into father’s side but still the man came forward, determined to deliver his son. He was knocked down, bruised with the great warrior's heal, slapped with his war club, yet the man would stumble to his feet. The battle raged, as one by one the village of the mountain warriors came to watch the final fight. The boy’s father was no match for the great warrior and as he stabbed him for the third time, the War Chief brought the little boy to watch his father’s death. The little boy cried out with such despair that his pain moved the village as well as the Old Sage.

“My son, I have come to deliver you!” cried the father as he attempted to get to his feet singing his death song to the Great Father of All Father’s Before Us.

The wicked War Chief yelled for the great warrior to kill him but the warrior just stood above the man in awe of his spirit. Containing himself no more, the Shaman yelled, “It is finished,” and stepped between the dying man and the War Chief. The Old Sage motioned for the boy to run to his father and looked at the war chief with fire in his eyes.

“You are not worthy to lead the people and must be cast out from us to wonder the earth. You will have the mark of the beast upon you so that all will see and all will shun you,” and with that, the warriors marked him and cast him out from their presence.

Gently the father looked up at his son and with his last words of love softly said, “I have delivered you,” and passed to the other world. The Medicine Man had the warrior from the valley wrapped for the three-day journey back to his village and sent his finest warriors to deliver the boy home to his people. He was delivered by the faith he had in his father.

This story, though from the deepest portion of my mind, represents the love that God possesses for us. If we love our children so much that we would lay down our very lives to deliver them, can we fathom the love of God for us? If we could feel the pain of Christ suffered for us for just one brief moment, we would tremble with gratitude and feel so unworthy of His sacrifice. Such is the price of love (John 15:13). For Christ, through the Father’s gift, died in order to deliver us. Grateful in the knowledge of God’s love, I remain your delivered servant, The Old General

“I WILL LIFT UP MINE EYES UNTO THE HILLS, FROM WHENCE COMETH MY HELP.” PSALM 121:1