Nobody was watching.

It was just David, his dad’s sheep, a bunch of space, and a whole lot of days that looked exactly like the day before. Feed them. Walk them. Find them. Protect them. Do it again tomorrow.

It didn’t look like preparation. It looked like a job he got stuck doing.

Maybe a life he got stuck living?

But somewhere in those fields David was becoming.

He learned to care for things that couldn’t protect themselves. He learned how to use a sling. He learned what fear felt like. He learned what it was to trust God when no one was around.

And then a valley.

Goliath. An army running in fear. A king who didn’t know what to do. David now standing in one of those moments that he would remember forever.

But the valley didn’t suddenly make David, David. It revealed what God had already been forming in the field.

We tend to recognize the valleys because they feel important. Obvious. Like facing a giant.

The fields are harder to notice.

They look like work and kids and errands and baseball practice. They look like showing up. And showing up again. They look like patience. And caring for things that don’t seem like they care, but still need you.

And maybe we’re too quick to think of those days as the space between the important parts of our lives. The days to get through.

David didn’t know a giant was coming. As far as he knew, he was just taking care of sheep. That was just his life.

I wonder what’s being formed in the parts of our lives we just call life.

I wonder if the question isn’t only, who am I becoming?

But how am I becoming?