Samson, Cut Your Own Hair – A Call to Consecration and Leadership
May 01, 2025
We’ve just returned from a whirlwind journey across multiple countries, asking one central question: “God, what are You doing—and how do we align with it?” The answers haven’t come easily. In fact, we’ve come back with more questions than when we left.
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Now, back in Tennessee, we’re setting up a new home and establishing what we sense is a strategic base for what’s next. We just hosted our first worship and encounter night here. Why? Because Easter isn’t a one-day story. The resurrected Jesus walked the earth for 40 days after Easter Sunday. So we asked ourselves: What if we created space to encounter Him again?
In the middle of this, I’ve been in the Word—Judges, Proverbs, Isaiah 26. I’ve been asking hard questions about leaders around the world—some thriving, some struggling, some tragically falling. It’s grieving and sobering. It makes me ask, How do the mighty fall?
The Decline is Gradual, Not Sudden
Two powerful books that have informed my thinking lately are:
How the Mighty Fall by Jim Collins
Necessary Endings by Dr. Henry Cloud
Collins outlines five stages of decline observed in once-great companies:
Stage 1: Hubris Born of Success
- Success leads to arrogance.
- Leaders forget the true causes of greatness and stop learning.
Stage 2: Undisciplined Pursuit of More
- Overreaching ambition causes reckless expansion.
- Growth becomes unfocused and quality declines.
Stage 3: Denial of Risk and Peril
- Warning signs appear, but leaders downplay or ignore them.
- They blame external factors and silence bad news.
Stage 4: Grasping for Salvation
- Crisis hits; leaders panic and chase quick fixes (new leaders, flashy strategies).
- Discipline and focus are abandoned.
Stage 5: Capitulation to Irrelevance or Death
- The organization runs out of resources, loses hope, and either dies or fades into irrelevance.
Cloud’s message is clear: if you don’t initiate necessary endings, you’ll end up in a crisis. Pruning is essential. This isn’t just about business—it applies to churches, ministries, families, and individual lives.
So I began to look at scripture through this lens. What about leaders in the Bible who fell? Samson. Saul. Judas. The pattern is there.
The Book of Judges and the Repeating Cycle
In Judges, we see the same story on repeat:
- Crisis.
- People cry out to God.
- God raises a deliverer.
- Temporary victory.
- Gradual drift back into compromise.
And this haunting verse:
“In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 21:25)
That’s the danger—external appearances with no internal governance.
Which brings us to consecration. The word has been coming up again and again. From men’s groups, to family conversations, to Bible studies in Washington D.C., to personal study—it keeps surfacing. Consecration. Sanctification. Setting ourselves apart—not just in appearance, but in the heart.
What If Samson Had Cut His Own Hair?
Samson was a Nazarite from birth—set apart, consecrated. But while he never cut his hair, he broke the other vows. He touched dead things. He indulged his sexual impulses. He had the appearance of devotion, but not the heart.
It made me wonder: What if Samson had repented? What if he had humbled himself before being humiliated? What if he had cut his own hair—not in rebellion, but in surrender?
So I rewrote his story. It’s not scripture, but it might stir something in your soul…
He always thought his strength was in his hair. That’s what the angel said, right? No razor shall touch his head. Chosen from birth, set apart, a Nazarite, a miracle son, a warrior judge, and he was strong, so strong.
Lions fell like lambs, Philistines trembled. He could carry gates on his shoulders, snap ropes like thread. He was unstoppable.
But one day, after another narrow escape, he stopped. He stood at the edge of a field, his long hair blowing in the wind. And he asked a question he had never dared speak aloud.
“Is this really about my hair?”
He remembered the stories. It wasn’t the hair that split the Red Sea. It wasn’t the ark that brought the walls of Jericho down. It wasn’t the lampstands or the tabernacle that made Israel invincible. It was God. It was His presence.
And in that moment, Samson saw clearly—his strength had never been in the vow alone, but in the Spirit of the living God who had been with him all along.
So he knelt, not because he was weak, but because he was ready to surrender. To lead, not for revenge, but for restoration. He lifted a blade to his hair. Cut it. Not out of rebellion, but humility.
He expected the strength to leave. It didn’t.
Instead, something deeper came alive. Not the fury of a fighter, but the fire of a servant leader. He stood up not as a legend, but as a man of God.
And from that day forward, Samson walked with purpose. He refused compromise. He rejected temptation. Delilah never touched him. His heart belonged fully to the Lord.
He gathered Israel. He taught them to repent, not just from idols, but from forgetfulness. He led them not just to fight, but to return to the presence—not just to the ark, but to the God who makes the ark holy.
And in the presence of God, Israel found peace. The Philistines were driven out, not just by Samson’s strength, but by a nation whose heart was finally aligned with heaven.
That generation saw what real strength looked like—not in hair or rage or war, but in a leader who walked humbly with God and led others to do the same.
What’s the Hair in Your Life?
The story of Samson poses a challenge for all of us: What are we holding onto for the sake of appearance? What do we need to cut off in humility—before we are forced to in humiliation?
It’s time to stop hiding behind the outward signs of devotion and go deep. Let God circumcise your heart. Consecrate yourself. Not for appearances, but for purpose. For His presence. For real strength.
This is your invitation: Cut your own hair. And walk into your calling, fully aligned with heaven.