Gideon's Tiny Army

Gideon was beating wheat at the bottom of a hole. Nobody threshes wheat in a hole. Unless they're hiding.

He peeked over the edge. Nothing. He ducked back down. THWACK went the stick.

Every harvest the Midianites came. Like locusts. They took the wheat, the sheep, everything.

'Anyone?' 'Nobody,' Purah whispered. Gideon was tired of hiding. But hiding was all he knew.

Then a stranger sat down under the olive tree. Gideon had not heard him come.

'The Lord is with you, mighty hero!' Gideon looked behind him. There was nobody there. 'Me?'

'If God is with us,' Gideon said, 'why is everything so bad?'

'Go,' said the stranger. 'Save your people. I am sending you.'

'Me? My family is the smallest one. And I'm the smallest in my family.'

'I will be with you,' the stranger said. As if that settled it.

Gideon brought him bread. The stranger touched it with his staff. WHOOSH! Fire jumped out of the rock!

When the smoke cleared, the stranger was gone. Gideon sat down hard. That was no stranger.

That night Gideon still wasn't sure. He laid a sheep's fleece on the ground. 'God, if this is really you, make the wool wet and the ground dry.'

Morning came. The ground was dry as bread. And the fleece? Gideon squeezed it. A whole bowl of water poured out.

'One more time?' Gideon winced. 'Dry wool, wet ground?' And God, who is very patient, did that too.

So Gideon put on a cloak, lifted the ram's-horn trumpet, and blew. BRAAAAP! It was the bravest sound he had ever made.

And men came. From every village. Over every hill. They kept coming.

By the spring of Harod, Gideon counted. Thirty-two thousand men! Now THAT was an army.

Gideon smiled for the first time in weeks. Then God spoke. 'Too many.'

'TOO MANY?' 'If you win with this many, they'll say they did it themselves. Send home anyone who is afraid.'

Twenty-two thousand men went home. Gideon watched them go. He felt like going with them.

'Still too many,' God said. 'Take them to the water.' Gideon's mouth went dry.

Most knelt and put their faces in the stream. A few scooped water in their hands, still looking around, like watchmen.

'Keep the ones who scooped,' God said. Gideon counted them. Three hundred.

Three hundred. Against an army like locusts. 'With these,' God said, 'I will save you.'

That night Gideon could not sleep. Three hundred. He counted them again. It was still three hundred.

'If you're afraid,' God said softly, 'go down to their camp. Take Purah. Listen.' Gideon was afraid. So he went.

They crept to the ridge and looked down. Oh. Oh no.

Fires, and fires, and fires. Tents like a sea. Camels past counting. 'Gideon,' Purah whispered. 'That's a lot.'

Down, down they crept. Past the sleeping camels. Right up to the nearest tent.

Inside, a guard was talking. 'I had a dream. A loaf of barley bread rolled into our camp and squashed a tent. Flat!'

His friend went white. 'That's Gideon! God has given us to him!'

Gideon's knees went weak. The enemy was scared. Of HIM. Right there in the dark, Gideon bowed his head and thanked God.

'Get up!' Gideon shouted, running into camp. 'God has already given us the win!'

He gave each man a ram's-horn trumpet. And a clay jar. And inside each jar, a burning torch, hidden.

'No swords,' said Gideon. 'Watch me. Do what I do.' The men looked at their jars. Then at each other.

Three groups crept around the camp in the dark. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet.

Gideon lifted the horn. He took one huge breath.

BRAAAAP went the horn! CRASH went the jar! And the torch blazed out, bright as day.

CRASH went three hundred jars! Three hundred torches blazed! Three hundred horns howled! 'A sword for the LORD and for GIDEON!'

The enemy woke up. Fire on every side! Horns everywhere! 'It's an army! A HUGE one! RUN!'

They ran into each other. They ran into their camels. They ran and ran and did not stop.

And the three hundred? They just stood there. Holding their torches. Not one of them swung a sword.

Gideon laughed. It came out a bit wobbly. 'Small,' he said, 'plus God. That's enough.'

The sun came up on an empty valley. Not one enemy was left. Just tents flapping in the wind.

That harvest, Gideon threshed his wheat up on the hilltop. Out in the open. In the wind.

'Not hiding?' Purah grinned. 'Not hiding,' said Gideon.

He was still the smallest in his family. That was fine. God was with him.