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Speaker 1: Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility, value others above yourselves Philippians two three. God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, you see into the deepest corners of our hearts. You know the fears we don't speak of, the ones that tell us we are not enough, that if some one else succeeds, we fail. Forgive us for the times we've let evil take root, poisoning our thoughts and actions. Teach us to trust in your abundance, to see others victories as extensions of your goodness, not threats to our own place in your story. May we become people who cheer for each other whole bless those we feel threatened by, because in You there is always more than enough.
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Speaker 2: Amen.
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Speaker 1: Thank you for praying with me today. You're listening to The Chosen People with y L.
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Speaker 3: X Stein.
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Speaker 1: Remain here for a dramatic story inspired by the Bible. Be sure to follow this podcast so you never miss an episode.
00:01:31
Speaker 4: Previously on The Chosen People.
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Speaker 5: Samuel, Please, Hi, I have.
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Speaker 3: Sinned.
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Speaker 6: I feared the people I listen. I listened to them instead of God. But it was not my will. Please, Oh, pardon my pardon my sin, return with me. Let me worship before the Lord.
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Speaker 4: Soul's hands trembled. He lunged forward, grab Samuel's robe, the fabric tour as.
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Speaker 7: You have torn my robe.
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Speaker 3: So the Lord has torn the kingdom from you.
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Speaker 5: He wilcome it to another.
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Speaker 3: The Lord has already chosen him.
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Speaker 5: Here's a man that seeks after the.
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Speaker 3: Heart of God more than the heart.
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Speaker 7: Of the people, my King. I am David, son of Jesse, at your service.
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Speaker 5: I hear your music clmbs the soul.
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Speaker 3: Shepherd Boy.
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Speaker 4: David lifted his head.
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Speaker 7: Only the Lord can call the soul like him. The music I play is unto him, and in his delight he's host the word huh.
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Speaker 2: So you're a poet as well. The Lord's delight is big boy. One day you have it, the other you don't.
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Speaker 3: Who is that warrior?
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Speaker 8: Oh?
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Speaker 4: Fights like that, But deep down he already knew it was the shepherd from Bethley and Jesse's forgotten son. The boy who played the harp now wielded a sword, and all of Israel would.
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Speaker 3: Know his name.
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Speaker 9: Shallo my friends from here in the holy land of Israel, i'm ya l extein with the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews and welcome to the Chosen People. Each day we'll hear a dramatic story inspired by the Bible, stories filled with timeless lessons of faith, love, and the meaning of life. Through Israel's story, we will find this true that we are all chosen for something great. So take a moment today to follow the podcast. If you're feeling extra grateful for these stories, we would love it if you left us a review. I read every single one of them, and if you're interested in hearing more about the prophetic, life saving work of the Fellowship, you can visit IFCJ dot org.
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Speaker 7: Let's begin.
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Speaker 4: David and Jonathan rode into Gibbea with their men, dust from the road still clinging to their cloaks and boots. The city shimmered in the warm glow of springtime, its narrow streets bustling with merchants, soldiers, and servants preparing for the day's work. Saul's palace loomed above them, nearly finished, its stone walls adorned with banners bearing the sigil of Israel's king. Gardens surrounded the palace, a sea of wild flowers and olive trees stretching out like an oasis amidst the heart stone. The breeze carried the scent of blooming petals through the air, and the soft rustling of leaves played like a melody, a sound David found more comforting than any harp.
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Speaker 10: I'm going to find my father and report on our victories. Do you want to come now?
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Speaker 7: You go on ahead, I'm going to stay here. Rest of it.
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Speaker 4: Jonathan rode ahead while David lingered near the garden's edge. He leaned against a wooden fence, his fingers tapping absent mindedly against the rough grain as his gaze wandered past the olive groves. Then he saw her. Michal, Saul's youngest daughter, moved gracefully between the flowers, her hands brushing gently over their delicate stems. She was a vision in the dappled sunlight, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and her eyes bright with youthful curiosity. David felt his breath catch in his chest. The battlefield had never made his heart race quite like this. A sly grin tugged at the corner of David's mouth. From his belt, he retrieved a small olive, placing it carefully in the leather strap of his sling. With a practiced flick of the wrist, the olive shot through the air, rustling the leaves just above her head. Startled, Michal looked up, her eyes meeting his David, the Giant Slayer, the Warrior of Israel, now looked like a mere boy. Grinning sheepishly from behind the fence, she blushed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
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Speaker 7: I'm happy to see you alive, David.
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Speaker 3: We were all worried about you.
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Speaker 7: I was never in any real danger. Jonathan had my.
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Speaker 5: Back well, from what I hear, you had his as well.
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Speaker 10: I'm grateful, and.
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Speaker 7: Bring me more.
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Speaker 4: Saul's voice interrupted, sharp and commanding from within the palace walls. David turned to Michal and chuckled under his breath, running a hand through his tangled curls.
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Speaker 7: I'd better be going. It was good seeing you, Michael, You too, David.
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Speaker 4: With a final wave to Michal, he turned away, heading for the halls of the king. Michalle leaned against the trunk of an olive tree, watching him go, a wistful smile playing on her lips. The Giant Slayer had captured more than just Israel's hearts, he had captured hers as well. But Michal, young and full of dreams, could not yet fathom the weight of David's destiny. How could she. David himself had yet to grasp the full measure of what was to come. Fate, like the wind through the olive trees, was already stirring, and soon everything would change.
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Speaker 3: They're pressing dangerously close.
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Speaker 4: Saul paced before his throne like a caged wolf. His broad shoulders were tense, his fingers curling into fists as he stalked back and forth. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the stone walls of the palace.
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Speaker 5: Even after your victories, they march on with insolence.
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Speaker 3: They're broke and swine.
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Speaker 5: I'll not have Philistine's spears in the heart of our land. I'm sending you, David, stop them, show them what happens when they tread too cross.
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Speaker 7: As you command, my King, Good lad.
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Speaker 4: Saul nodded, but as he turned, his gaze fell upon the young warrior and froze. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, silence clung to the room like smoke. David's armor gleamed in the dim light. But it was not just any armor. Saul recognized it instantly. It was Jonathan's armor, his son's royal armor. A shadow flickered across Saul's face, darker than any cast by the torches.
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Speaker 5: Tell me, shepherd boy, do you fancy yourself a prince?
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Speaker 3: Now?
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Speaker 4: David lifted his head and glanced at Jonathan. He bowed his head in respect.
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Speaker 7: Of course, not my king. I am your servant and nothing more.
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Speaker 5: Then why do you wear my son armor? Was it one off? A game of dice? Has Jonathan become ill and unable to march as my heir?
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Speaker 4: Before David could speak, Jonathan, who had stood silent in the shadows, stepped forward swiftly.
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Speaker 5: It was my gift.
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Speaker 3: Father.
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Speaker 10: David saved my life more than once in her last skirmish. Without him, the Philistines would have overrun us. Without him, I would be dead. I owe him my life, and Israel owes him our victories.
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Speaker 4: For a moment, the fire in Saul's eyes dimmed, his fury, always simmering beneath the surface, wavered in the face of his son's words. Slowly, his clenched fists relaxed and With an indifferent wave of his hand, he dismissed, David.
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Speaker 5: If you are as brave as my son claims, then go halt the Philistines, or do not return.
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Speaker 4: David bowed once more, saying nothing. He knew better than to press his luck. Without another word, he turn'd and left the throne room, his footsteps echoing down the long hall. Saul sat back heavily on his throne, gripping the cup beside him. The wine was bitter, but not as bitter as the venom now seeping into his heart. The whispers began again, faint at first, but growing louder with every passing moment. The tormenting spirit that plagued him had return'd, slithering through his mind like a serpent.
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Speaker 3: He weares your son's armor. He takes your victories, He wins the hearts of your people. Soon he'll take your throw.
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Speaker 4: Saul's knuckles turned white around his cup. His breathing grew shallow. Jealousy coiled around his heart like thorns in a garden, choking out reason and feeding on his insecurities.
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Speaker 11: The giant Sire, the Shepherd, the Shepherd Boy, the hero of Israel.
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Speaker 4: Scheeven Saul's lips curled into a scowl, his eyes burned with a new resolve. The throne would be his or no one's. David led his band of hardened men through the dusty hills south of Gilgal, where word had come that the Philistines lurked like wolves near the villages. He moved with a restless energy. Many of the men often found it hard to keep up with him. As they ascended the hills, they were met with an unexpected advance from the Philistines. They must have gotten word that David was marching.
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Speaker 7: Attack, Attack with heart, don't hold back.
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Speaker 4: The shepherd boy ran ahead of his men, intent on landing the first blow. He leapt forward and met two Philistines with the edge of his blade. He rolled, slashed, and jabbed forward with the grace of a veteran. But David was still young. He had yet to learn the intricacies of combat. That's where his relative Joab came in handy Joab, along with his brothers Abishai and Arsahl, were the sons of David's sister. But Joab was older and more excited experience than David and his younger brothers. He stopped by David's side aiding in the nuanced elements of.
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Speaker 7: Warfare David Duck.
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Speaker 4: Joe abb caught David's attention just in time for him to dodge an enemy mace. The Philistine barely missed. David shifted his feet, changed the position of his sword, and thrust it backward into the enemy's stomach. Blood spurted, followed by a groan and crash.
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Speaker 5: Thanks for having my back, Joe abbing, Of course, only a small company of the rich.
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Speaker 4: Who's still very David nodded and led his men forward. His strikes were swift and deliberate, each blow falling like the stroke of a master painter's brush, measured and precise. There was poetry in his violence, grace in his fury. The Philistines never stood a chance. One by one they fell. Those who remained turned and led, their war cries, melting into panicked screams as they vanished into the hills. David stood among the bodies, breathless but unbroken, his tunic torn and bloodied, though little of it was his own. He wiped his brow, smiling through the ache in his bones. Victory tasted sweet, and sweeter still was the knowledge that he had protected his people. The shepherd had become the defender of Israel. Tales of the giant Slayer now echoed from the grandest hoars of Gibea to the humblest villages in the hills. David returned to Gibea. His muscles screamed for rest, and the cuts on his arms stung with every movement. Yet his heart was light. He had fought, bled and triumphed for Israel, and in doing so he had brought glory to his King, to his people, and to his God. As David and his men neared the gates, a clamor reached their ears. David's hand instinctively fell to the hilt of his sword. He and Joab exchanged weary glances.
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Speaker 7: What's that sound? Is Gibia being attacked?
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Speaker 3: I don't think that's the sound of what, David, listen.
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Speaker 4: The noise was not the sound of panic or war. It was something else, entirely cheers, laughter, music. David furrowed his brow and quickened his pace as they passed through the gates. The sight that met him made him stop in his tracks. The streets were filled with people. Men, women, and children lined the roads, waving their arms and calling his name. Lutes and tambourines rang out in joyous harmony. The air was thick with the scent of crime flowers and the smoke of burning incense. David, they cried, David the giant Slayer, David the deliverer of Israel. His men beamed with pride, but David stood frozen, bewildered by the overwhelming display. From the palace steps, a procession of women danced gracefully, tambourines in hand, their laughter bright and melodic. They sang a song, one that rippled through the crowd like wildfire. Saul has slain his thousands, but David his ten thousands. It was in the same tune that they had once sang Saul's name, but now the melody rang as an anthem to David's courage. The words echoed from the highest terraces to the deepest alleyways, carried by every voice, young and old. David's breath caught in his throat, a song for him. He was but a shepherd boy from Bethlehem, a forgotten son of Jesse. Now they sang his name alongside the kings, and not just alongside, but above. His smile faltered for a moment, not for pride or arrogance, but for fear of what such praise might stir in the heart of the one man whose favor he wished never to lose.
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Speaker 7: This doesn't mean anything good for me, doesn't.
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Speaker 8: I'm afoot not?
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Speaker 3: You're the new herod is really that means Saul? Isn't.
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Speaker 4: The melody drifted through the corridors like a ghost, uninvited and relentless. Saul has slain his thousands, but David his ten thousands. It's seeped beneath doors, through cracks in the stone walls, and into Saul's chamber like the whisper of a serpent. At first, he tried to ignore it, clenching his jaw until his teeth ached, but the song gnawded him, each note a thorn, burrowing deeper into his pride. Saul has slain his thousands, but David his ten thousands. Saul pushed open the balcony doors and stepped into the night air. Below him, the streets of Gibea pulsed with life. Torches flickered like stars amidst the throng of jubilant citizens. They cheered, they laughed, and worst of all, they sang, Saul has slain his thousands, but David his ten thousands. The words twisted in Saul's gut like a knife. His dark and brooding eyes searched the crowd until they found him. David the Boy was lifted high upon the shoulders of his men, grinning that infuriating grin. His curls were tousled by the wind, and his eyes were alight with a joy that Saul had long forgotten. The people adored him, worshiped him. A shadow fell across Saul's face. Something bitter and vile coiled around his heart, squeezing tighter with every beat. Jealousy, cold and sharp, seeped into his veins. His lips parted, and a faint whisper escaped into the night.
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Speaker 3: I hate.
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Speaker 4: The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but they felt true.
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Speaker 3: They sheer for him, not for you.
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Speaker 4: Saul's knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the balcony. His breathing grew shallow, ragged. The king, who once stood head and shoulders above all Israel, now felt small, diminished by the shadow of a shepherd boy. His mind raised, poisoned by dark thoughts that moved quicker than he could contain.
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Speaker 3: Will take it.
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Speaker 8: From me, Mike, my kingdom, my throne, my legacy. I will not let him. I will not let him.
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Speaker 4: The king turned sharply, retreating into the shadowed confines of his chamber. The melody outside persisted, haunting him still. His boots echoed on the stone floor as he paced back and forth, back and forth, like a caged beast. Every step fueled his resentment. Every breath stoked the flames of paranoia. His mind became a forge where every fleeting thought hammered David's name into something darker, something lethal. His eyes flicked to the far wall, where a single spear hung above his bed. Slowly, deliberately, Saul crossed the room. His fingers traced the smooth wooden shaft before curling around it tightly. The room felt suffocatingly still, save for the song that clawed at the edges of his mind. Saul has slain his thousands, but David his ten thousands. The king turned toward the closed door. He could still hear them, their laughter, their song, their praise for David.
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Speaker 3: Day day.
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Speaker 4: A low growl rumbled from Saul's throat. His grip tightened around the spear, veins bulging against his skin. With a raw borne of frustration and wounded pride, Saul hurled the spear across the room. It sliced through the air like a viper's strike, embedding itself deep into the wooden door, with a resounding crack that echoed through the chamber. The door splintered under the force, jagged pieces falling to the floor like broken promises. Saul stood there, chest heaving, eyes wide and unblinking. The tormenting spirit, ever lingering, coiled tighter around him, whispering poison into his ear. The morning sun cast thin beams through the high windows of Saul's throne room, illuminating the dust that floated through the stale air. David sat cross legged beside the firelight, cradling his harp as he plucked at the strings, each note soft and deliberate. He glanced up as the heavy doors creaked open. Saul entered, like a shadow, passing over the room. His eyes were sunken, sleepless, and his brow furrowed, as though he carried the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. Alone in his hand, a spear rested, not lazily, but with intention, David bowed low. The king sneered at the gesture. Saul settled into his throne, his fingers curling around the spear's shaft like a serpent coiling around its prey. The silence between them stretched tort as a drawn bowstring. Good morning, my king, Saul tilted his head, his lips curling into something between a smile and a grimace.
00:25:12
Speaker 5: And what makes it good?
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Speaker 3: Boy?
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Speaker 5: Have you brought me tidings worthy of such pleasantries?
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Speaker 7: Yes, my lord, your servant did as you commanded. We met the Philistine raiders before they could strike the villages. We vanquished them all. It was your wisdom that guided us swiftly, and your foresight that ensured victory.
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Speaker 2: Oh spare me your formalities and flattery.
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Speaker 4: Saul leaned forward, his voice low and biting.
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Speaker 3: They may call you the giant slayer. They may sing your braises.
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Speaker 12: You may wear my sons armor, but never forget you are still my servant, my musician.
00:26:03
Speaker 3: Nashing More.
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Speaker 4: David's childhood had made him immune to such treatment. His father would be tender one moment and harsh the next. His brothers either treated him with contempt or indifference. David had learned to serve despite others treatment of him, a noble quality that could most definitely grow toxic if not kept in check.
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Speaker 7: As you say, my King, would you have me play for you?
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Speaker 4: Saul flicked his hand dismissively, and David began to strum. The notes rose and fell like waves. Each chord was a plea for peace, each melody a whisper to the heavens. It was not just music, it was prayer, And though Saul's soul was cloaked in darkness, the music tugged at what little light remained within him. The fire flickered, casting shadows across Saul's face. His lips trembled, his mind drifting to a time when the world was simpler, when Samuel stood beside him, and God's favor rested upon him like a crown of unseen glory. But that voice, that guiding hand, had long since abandoned him. Now there was only silence, silence, and the boy whose presence gnawed at him like a thorn in his flesh. David played on, eyes closed, lost in the music, Saul stared into the fire, his thoughts at.
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Speaker 12: Tempest, Why did you send him, Lord, so torment me.
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Speaker 3: To mark me with what I have asked.
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Speaker 4: Every note from David's harp fell like a dagger, twisting in his chest, where Saul's pride stood tall. David's humility cast a shadow, and it was unbearable. His hand tightened around the spear.
00:28:14
Speaker 3: You could end this.
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Speaker 4: Right now, Saul rose from his throne, the spear held firmly in his grasp. David's eyes fluttered open just as Saul whispered under his breath.
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Speaker 5: In him to the wall.
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Speaker 4: The spear flew, cutting through the air with a deadly hiss. David lunged to the side, crashing into a table as the spear struck the stone wall behind him with a loud thunk. Saul screamed tore through the room, guttural and roar as he reached for another spear.
00:28:56
Speaker 6: Ah aw, you think you could steal my kingdom?
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Speaker 3: Boy?
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Speaker 6: Stop singing your name once.
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Speaker 7: Your dad lamber.
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Speaker 4: David scrambled to his feet as the second spear sailed toward him. He duck low, but not fast enough. A sharp sting tore across his shoulder, warm blood soaking through his tunic. Saul was already reaching for a third spear when David darted to the window. He leaped through it, landing in the dewy grass below with a heavy thud. He didn't look back. In the throne room, Saul stood motionless, the final spear trembling in his hand. The fury that consumed him moments before drained away, replaced by a crushing weight of regret and self loathing. His grip loosened and the spear clattered to the floor. The king sank to his knees beside the fire, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The boy was gone, just like Samuel, just like God's favor. Outside, David clutched his bleeding shoulder as he staggered toward the stables. He pressed his back against the wooden door, breathing hard, willing his heartbeat to steady. Blood trickled down his arm, but the wound was shallow. It would heal. David peered through the window. There he was, the mighty King of Israel, hunched over, his face, buried in his hands, shoulders trembling with grief. David's heart ached at the sight. Despite the betrayal, despite the attempt on his life. He saw not a monster, but a broken man, tormented and alone. David sighed and turned away from the window, retreating into the shadows. Tomorrow he would return to the throne room. The King needed him, needed his music, his presence. Even now, David would not abandon him.
00:31:21
Speaker 9: If your faith has been kindled by this podcast and it has affected your life, we'd love it if you left her review. We read them, and me personally I cherish them as you venture forth boldly and faithfully. I leave you with the biblical blessing from numbers six IV. Hashem vishmerechra yeah heir, hashempanave ele yesa hashempanavelera.
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Speaker 4: Shaloon.
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Speaker 9: May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine upon you. May he be gracious to you. Made the Lord turn his faith towards you and give you peace.
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Speaker 4: Amen. You can listen to the Chosen People with Yile Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to the prey dot Com app today. This Prey dog comproduction is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Gattina, Max Bard, Zach Shellabager and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People with Yile Eckstein. Edited by Alberto Avilla, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotten, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwold, Sylvia Zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Junior, Rosanna Pilcher, and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith, written by Aaron Salvato, bre Rosalie and Chris Baig. Special thanks to Bishop Paul Lanier, Robin van Ettin, Kayleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, and the team at International Fellow of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Prey dot com productions on the Prey dot com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed The Chosen People with Yil Eckstein, please rate and leave a review.