Chapter 6: Twenty Years Alone

From that day, Samson judged Israel for twenty years. His name became legend. Young men dreamed of standing beside him in battle. Villages celebrated when he arrived and grieved when he left.

But no one asked him to stay.

At feasts, he would sit at the edge and watch. Families gathered around tables. Children climbed into their fathers' laps. Wives leaned against their husbands. He had saved them all. He belonged to none of them.

He left that night. Alone. As always.

One evening, Samson visited the Philistine city of Gaza. Word spread quickly that he was there. The Philistines locked the city gates and posted guards, planning to kill him at dawn.

But Samson rose at midnight. He walked to the gates - massive doors of iron and wood - and tore them from their posts. Doors, bar, hinges, everything. He carried them on his shoulders to the top of a hill miles away and left them there.

They tried to cage him. He carried their cage into the night.

But some cages are not made of iron. They are made of silence. Of empty rooms. Of being known by everyone and understood by no one.

He had been born to deliver Israel. He had done that. So why did he still feel like he was waiting for something?