I first read the following story over thirty years ago. It was written by a gentleman named Harold Poland:
On the slope of Longs Peak near Estes Park lies the ruin of a giant tree. It had stood there for 400 years defying winter storms and bitter cold.
It had been struck by lightning 14 times and many of its gnarled limbs had been broken by howling winds. Yet it stood.
Nothing in nature seemed able to conquer it! But it has, at last, been felled by beetles working beneath its bark.
Men are like that: Able to stand the "giant" temptations. Capable of withstanding every wind of doctrine, every trial of circumstance and every vicious assault of Satan.
They will not succumb to the big sins (so called)--murder, adultery, theft, and lying. But while no adverse feature of life seemed capable of destroying their determination, sinking their spirit, or claiming their affection, the "little beetles" moved in, ate away at the insides, and claim the life of another of God's giants. . . . .
Little resentments, hostilities, and unforgiving attitudes take over. Pettiness, hidden anger, annoyances, and grudge eat away beneath the surface until, at last, man falls.
What does it take to "fell a giant"? Don't let the little things destroy you!
