Defaulters of God's grace. Samson's Account By Gbile Akanni

One aspect of Delilah that broke my guard was her
food! ‘Delicious’ was an understatement when it
comes to her dishes... as soon as she came, my fasting
life died! The grace of fasting just dissipated. At 6.00am,
she woke me up with a cup of cold juice, then followed with
‘fries’ – it could be fried chicken, fried turkey; fried goat
meat; fried fish, fried snails and other bush neat from their
country home of Gaza.
Her service was another thing! She never delegated my food to
house girls, she brought it herself: She never served me standing. She went
on her two knees and pulled me by the ear with the pet name she coined for
me: “Sam, the Great”... “Great is my Samson”! I also responded with “Del,
the Den” My head swells up any time she tickles me with her finger and
whispers “Sam, the Great”, but my heart shrinks. Some measure of anointing
just drop off my spirit...
She perfected my drinking spree, she never rushed me to finish a
bottle. She knows how to mix different grill of wine. She served me sip by
sip; “sip by sip’, I wouldn’t know when I have finished five bottles. She
had all the time. She gave me full time attention! I never begged her for
s**. She satisfied me to the full. I was the one who usually begged her to
release me. I had no need to go out any more. She was never boring!
She changed her dresses like chameleon, with assorted perfumes.
As soon as I married Delilah, I was also a full time ‘house-
husband’. I never went for raids any more. You know before now,
despite my backsliding; these were occasions when the Spirit will
remind me of my call: and my call was to kill and route out the
Philistines from our Father’s land. I will just jump up and go furiously
looking for any Philistine’s camp to raid. That was my own form
of evangelism.
All of this finished for me. I began to actually cherish the
Philistines. I reasoned: ‘why should we insist they leave the land?’
I began to propose a co-existence with these uncircumcised.
Besides, I had put on so much weight that I could not carry myself
easily about again. I had no disciple to send or any army that I have
raised and taught the principles of warfare. I did not transfer the
anointing to anyone. I was a loner. I was alone, now trapped
between the breast and the lap of ‘Del, the Den’.
When I proposed that we should have children, Delilah
objected, saying the honeymoon had not finished; besides Children
will interrupt our “love play” too early. Little did I know she was planning to cut
me short out of the land of the living. That was why I had no descendant or do you
know any of my sons that I gave birth to? My father’s name perished in Israel with
me. I squandered my father’s inheritance, I left no next of kin. I was a useless
son to my father and my cherished mother Manoah’s name had since been forgotten
in our tribe of Dan...
Delilah occupied me so much, I forgot my calling; I lost my vision and I
lost contact with my people. None of them could visit me while Delilah was
around, she stood at the gate and told
them I was sleeping and none should
disturb me. She cut me off from all
who would have reinforced my life in
fellowship; all who would have prayed
with me, she estranged me from! She
got me isolated from my roots. She
so occupied me with vanities, that I
lost taste for my heavenly heritage. Philistines’ music re-echoed all around me. The songs of Moses that I sang
when I went for battles were fast slipping out of my heart.
Not long after, she resumed her real mission: she
was actually a missionary. She was sent and sponsored to
get the enemy of her people. What thousands of strong
soldiers could not achieve, she volunteered alone to get it
and that without a gun or a spear. While she cut me off
from my own people, Philistines freely visited our home,
they came even into our bedroom once in a while. She
explored all my secret ammunition, but couldn’t find any,
since they were located not outside, but in my consecration!

Beloved saint, this was my carelessness! Our weapons
are not carnal. They are not located in gadgets, but in our lives – a life of unbroken communion with God! We may
be tersely dressed, with mere string and smooth stones like
David); but the force of our armour is in our relationship
with Him, who never runs dry... the Almighty God! Our
quiet consecration, that keeps us connected to the source
of life, is the greatest secret of our strength.
Saul put up great armour, while his real armoury
was ravaged with sin; David went only with a string and
brought back the head of Goliath. What a matter? My
friend, do not miss this point. Delilah sought every where
around me for the source of the power; she could not find
any extraordinary implement of iron, she was baffled at this
power that has nothing to do with physical appearance.
She then began to probe into my life; she did it with
much seduction. One night, she got me to sleep on her lap.
She sat all the night, while I laid my head on her lap and
slept off like a baby. She asked me several probing questions:
“If you truly love me, must I remain a stranger to your inner
life? You have not ceased to surprise me with your ability
to dismantle things and dislodge troops; ‘Sam, the Great’ –
where lies the source of your greatness? It has remained a
mystery to all the astrologers and magicians of Philistines.
For twenty years, you terrorised our people and no one has
a clue to whom and what made you great.”
She pestered me this way for several days. She
sometimes began to weep in the middle of the night just to
break my resolve not to let go off of this secret, which only
my mother knew. She asked why my hair looked so curly,
as if I have never shaved the hair I came out with from the
womb. I would find some flimsy explanation to divert her
from going further to that side of things.
I gave her several other secrets (which were merely
external); she tried me on it by bringing the Philistines, but I
would jump up with the residue of the anointing I still had
left. And a drop of that anointing will discomfit a thousand
troops of the giants any day and any time. Each passing
day, I was digging deeper with her persuasion into the fabrics
of my consecration and my resistance mechanism weakened
out by the day.

The D – day came... A day I hated to talk about.
A day I finally bowed to her high level seduction. That was
the day what had not happened in the thirty – six years of
my life happened. Razor came on the locks of my hair.
The last lock of my consecration was shaved out. The
weight of my hair was much. Imagine what I had grown
for 36years. It did not take 36 minutes to cut off. But it
was only a symbol of my loss: 36 years commitment and
consecration was shaved off in less than 36minutes. My
connection with the Almighty was gone.
As ‘Del, the Den’ set me on her lap that fateful
evening. it all began with caressing, fondling and all that
sort of thing. A little sip of mixed wine; a pulling of the hair
of my neck; a tinkling of her breast and I lost the guard:
She cut me unawares as she began to kiss me every where.
She started to weave my unusually long hair, and tie the
knots as if it were the Old “Suku” of the Yoruba lady of
Nigeria. She discovered there were seven strong locks
that built up the bushy hair I had carried since I was born.
There was none like it in all of the country of the Philsitines
(and as no one in Israel at that time walked in the Nazarite
consecration), so this aroused her curiosity:
“Sam the great”’ what are these seven strong locks
for... if I cut it you will actually be more handsome!”
At this, I jumped up and said:
“No; never have I been shaved all of my life!
“Seven locks! Fullness of power...
“Seven locks! Unbroken, uncut, untrimmed consecration
and communion!
“Seven locks! Unhindered anointing to deliver my
people and to destroy the oppressors, especially the
Philistines!
“Seven locks! The connection to the most high...
“Seven locks!
Though I have broken all other strings and
strands of a Nazarite; these remained the last
anchor, and if cut I am gone! If shaved, I will be a
mere man, like any other person...
“Seven locks! My aged mother treasured it. She dressed it!
She never allowed it to be exposed, lest any one pulls it
out by mistake. It is a secret between me and her.!
“Seven Locks... the locks that secures me and the anointing. Cut off, I will be a broken man; a city without
walls... “Del, the Den’, don’t go near the sacred
 locks...”She went quiet. She knew I have released a secret.
If she pressed more I may get back to my senses and
strangulate her to death. She curiously changed the topic
and gave me some more wine. She caressed me some
more “Sam, the Great; You are the greatest I have ever
met. A man with the heavy hair of anointing:
Uncut, Unshaved; handsome as a little jelly, you will forever
be my pet.”
Little did I realise that she has got me, and forever
I would be a mere pet. She did Nothing that night. She
made me relax in between her lap.

 I remember those tender
laps with utmost regret today! Young men, run away from
the lap of strange women. The last lap of my anointing was
squandered on those lap.
Delilah sneaked out early in the morning and
consulted with her masters: “I have got him this time. He
unwittingly told me the secret of his anointing. I am sure he
did not know he has divulged the very treasure, while he
spoke “rhetoric” on my lap yester-night. “Therefore get
ready this night... I will do just one thing and I am sure you
will catch him like a mere chicken. But be ready to damage
him beyond repairs.... I am not sure if his relationship with
his God will get a quick reconnection once I break off the
locks tonight.”
 “Which locks are you talking about?” One of them queried.
“Do you need hammers and chisel or iron cutters to break
the locks?” “Are they padlocks? Where are they locked?
Do you need carpenters or iron benders?”
“NO; the locks are strange locks. It is the lock of his hair. I
will just need a new razor blade to scrape it up to the skin.
I also need a deep sedative, lest he wakes up while we barb
him. I perceive the locks would be very strong. It has
remained uncut since he was born. Just stand by in case of
any emergency...”
So, the plan for my ‘downfall’ was set. I foolishly
played with those breasts again, while she played around
the lock... tracing where to cut and all would be gone. She
mixed the usual wine, but this time with some increased
dosage of “Valium 5”. She also sprayed Chlorofon related
air freshener in the room. I was knocked off, snoring with
my saliva all over her lap. She reached out for the new
razor blade, one after the other, she cut off the seven locks
up to the skin. I was clean shaven by the time I woke up.
She woke me up first with a cynical laughter: “Sam,
the Great” – my pet.... my household pet”:
she tortured me, squeezed my hands, no muscle rose up.
She beat me with cane; I was just looking dumbfounded.
For the first time, in 36 years, I felt light... I felt
empty and emptied... I shook my head, it was all light and
empty... I shook my body... there was no response...“Del,
the Den” has actually become the Den of Lions now! I
begged her for water to drink, she turned a deaf ear! I
prostrated for her to protect me from the enemy, she only
laughed and reminded me of how many of her people I had
slaughtered.
I began to hear the footsteps of men around the
sitting room. Delilah rose up with relish of a job
accomplished. She opened the door into our bedroom and
brought me out of her bosom into the wicked hands of the
Philistines. They bound me with fetters and I could not
resist. I was now an ordinary man. They brought their
screw drivers and began to scoop out my eyes... I begged;
I pleaded; I cried like a baby... No one cared. Delilah had
changed. She has re-united with her people.
I called my mother, my father to no avail. I shouted
to God – the God of Abraham, but Heaven was closed! I
was lost. I lost my two eyes... I went into utter darkness. I
tried all my old strategies, none worked. The Lord has
departed from me: Ichabod! The glory has left. I was
now a mere shadow of my self...
I was then bundled to the house of Dagon, the god
of the Philistines – captive! A Captain now turned Captive.

Loud ovation rose for Dagon that day! Delilah was crowned
for a job well done. I was made to bow to Dagon as the
supreme: Though my heart was crying out to the God of my
fathers.
This was the beginning of my dark years. No one
could trace me. I saw no one again. Right there, Delilah
was given to another Prince in marriage, and I was made
to dance and entertain them at her reception: O wretched
man that I had become.
What my mother guarded jealously for years,
Delilah came to destroy in few minutes... I became a grinder
of stones in the prison. Dark years! Dark and dreary! I
lost all friends. I saw no one again; I was blinded to all the
beauty that attracted me to the valley years ago. I was made a sporting tool for their entertainment... Rather than
do exploit, I became a sport for the uncircumcised. I blame
no one! I accepted all the blame. I abandoned the mercy
that could have been mine, as I pursued lying vanity...

Years rolled, but a ray of light began to dawn on
my heart... I knew I had missed my opportunity to serve
the God of my fathers. I had wasted all the grace poured
on me. I was now a debtor of grace; a debtor to my parents
whom I insulted; a debtor to my country men, I was born to
serve and deliver with the great anointing I bore for years;
I was a debtor to myself, for dishonouring God; a debtor to
my clan whose name and inheritance I had squandered. I
was a debtor to God who called me from my mother’s womb.
What should I do now to pay my numerous debts?
The hope of recovery of my sight is none existent, I only
waited for death. But I must seek forgiveness and
restoration lest I end up in the eternal hell. I remembered
Scriptures like;
“If we confess our sins, God is faithful to
forgive and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
“Create in me a new heart O God, and renew a
right spirit within me!”
On my knees I fell one afternoon, in that dark prison room,
I cried and cried! The prison wardens came, saw me soaked
in the pool of my tears. I spoke in our Hebrew tongue.
They left me alone. I cried until the LORD heard me. He
heard me and dropped words of assurance of forgiveness
in my heart.
It was difficult for me to accept forgiveness, I
wanted to cry some more... “O God! My grace account is
frozen! I have nothing with which to meet you! I was born
to reproduce, but I squandered the anointing and I am coming
to you empty handed. How will you forgive a wretched
sinner like me? I disobeyed my parents... the birds of hell
have plucked out my eyes (as you said in Proverbs); O
Lord, have mercy on me! Draw me back to thy presence,
even if I have become earthly useless, let me not miss
heaven completely... etc.”
Such were the cries of my heart every day. No
one was knowledgeable enough to minister to me, but God
by His Spirit cleansed my heart. I resumed my Nazarite
consecration again: No more wine; no more fermented
fruits; No more women; No more sight seeing. I refused
any one to touch my hair again.
Now in the prison, I began my daily prayers. I
could not read any scroll; I only recalled all that my mother
taught me in my growing years; God in His mercy began to
come to me again. I began to see Him in my vision and in
my dreams! The more my hair grew, the easier I felt with
the heavy stone I was assigned to grind.
What hundreds of Philistines could not lift, I would
push it with my hands. The prison warden marvelled at my
strength, but he had no clue to this unusual power. Delilah
forgot to inform them that if the locks grow again, I might
become strong again. It was not the hair that grew back; it
was my inner consecration. It was my relationship with God
that started to grow...
I began to wish He gave me another chance to
undo all the mess I had done: To unmarry the girls I had
married; to restitute all the abuses I railed on my elders... I
wish I had a little chance to confess before the congregation
of Israel. I wish I am given a little chance to disciple at
least one person... but all was just too late. I kept begging
just for one more chance to rectify my destiny.
It was revealed to me in my spirit that I have been
forgiven, but that I will surely die among the Philistines. I
would have no chance to step back alive on the soil of Israel...
I would have no chance to marry again...
I would rather enter into the “Eunuch
consecration.” I would rather prepare for death and wish
to enter the presence of the Lord with some souls.
I changed my line of prayer and stopped the
wishful thinking. I prayed realistic prayers. I would not sit again on the bench of regret. I must maximise my
opportunity in death...
I began to ask God: “O Lord, I was given twenty
years to do exploit for you, but I wasted all. I only have one
day left – the day of my death. Please, grant that at my
death, I may destroy more Philistines and their lords and
gods than I have done in years of my youth...”

Beloved brethren, do not give up! Let my story
encourage you. God is merciful and gracious. While you
may not regain the lost years, invest the little opportunity
that remains. You can still strike a blow on the enemy,
though you have been wounded, even if you must die. I
could talk to you today because God granted me a second
chance. He granted Jonah, Peter, Jacob and several others
the second chance. Do not persist in sins. Do not cover-up with hypocrisy. Do not go for the bogus titles just to
cover-up. Wait patiently through the prison into which your
sin and carelessness has thrown you. Sin brings dark years,
but if you repent the day would dawn again – either into
fresh ministry or into His glorious presence.
For me, my second and last chance came when
the whole country of the Philistines gathered to celebrate
their victory over their enemies. The five lords were present;
the President was sitted; Dagon was especially decorated.
All its priests were on duty. Every citizen came for this
national festival. I was brought forth from the prison as the
number one exhibit of their victory. I was to be displayed
and to perform some entertainment to their guts. The
National stadium was the choice venue. Men were hanging
on the galleries just to catch a glimpse. Delilah was again
being honoured as the heroin of the day. My fellowship
with God has built up again, my hair had filled up back and
some fresh anointing is flowing in my heart. I was
determined not to waste this chance. I pleaded with God
again, that as I bow in death, I must not go empty-handed.
I was no more interested in knowing the statistics or in
receiving congratulations, I knew I would be dead by the
end of the day...
I asked the young man leading me by the hand:
“Where are the pillars on which the entire edifice rests?
Can I please feel it with my hands?”
He showed me and connected my hands to the two pillars;
they all thought it was another acrobatic performance I was
about to perform. They watched with keen interest. As I
pulled, God supplied the strength much more than the one I
used to pull and carry the gates; it was more unique than
the one I applied when I tore the lion.
The pillars moved, and the stadium collapsed.
Before any one could escape, they were trapped within the
debris. I supposed Dagon fell into pieces... five lords were
slaughtered at once. Delilah fell head long and uncountable
number of giants became like logs of wood. Of course it
fell finally on myself. I only opened my eyes on the other
shore in the Master’s waiting arms. You know the rest of
the story.

I perceive you must pick issues out of this fragments
of my life. If it can help you, I will be grateful to God that
though I could not live to disciple men for God, this story of
mine would contribute to other peoples’ efforts at instructing
you on the path of life.
I could not outline all the issues. They are in
fragments. Sit down and pick out relevant portions for your
own life. Others may need the other fragments... other
casualties would not speak so clearly to you. Look into
their own basket of fragments as well. Some unfortunately
wasted their second chances again and they have ended in
hell today. Yet, I counsel you, read their story again. Shake
the basket of their fragments. Something of value may
drop for your instruction. “Do I say good night? I am waiting
for you up here... Do not let it be a good bye...”
Though the dead would not speak like this! Samson
is dead, but Hebrews 11 has listed him among the heroes
of our faith. We have allowed his story to speak like this, so
you can pick treasures out of the fragments. Bend your
knees today O wounded soldier... God has not finished
with you, the presumptuous preacher. Do not be arrogant;
do not let results confuse you. Do not intimidate your parents
in the Lord and your disciplers with the result of an
anointing, though you yourself have lost your anchor
of consecration. Learn his lessons; avoid his pits
that you may climb on his back. Pray at this point.

Culled from LIVING SEED Vol.10 No.2 June, 2003

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