The air is crisp with hints of fall as shop owners strategically place their pumpkins outside storefronts. Leaves are beginning to change; glorious yellow, orange and red surrounding us as we stroll down Main Street. Daniel is perched atop Derek's shoulders, on top of the world, perfecting his new 'trick': pointing! Owen trots out in front, adamantly opposed to hand holding; our running commentary, our ball of energy. And then he hears our conversation and turns back to inquire, 'We're stepping into a river, Mom?!' 'What river? Where?'
The week before, we had read from Joshua; a story that both terrified and filled with hope. In Joshua 3 we found the nation of Israel needing to cross the Jordan River in route to their promised land. These wanderers had circled the desert for 40 years, waiting. Now, at long last, it was time! But a rushing river, literally at flood stage, blocked their way.
This is what Joshua told the wanderers in chapter 3,
'Think of it- the Master of the entire earth is crossing the Jordan as you watch. When the soles of the feet of the priests carrying the Chest of GOD, Master of all the earth, touch the Jordan's water, the flow of water will be stopped - the water coming from upstream will pile up in a heap.' (The Message) And that's the pep talk. 'God goes before us. He's got this! Just keep walking..' And so they do! These weary wanderers put one foot in front of the other and marched straight towards the raging waters, complete with antsy toddlers fighting the hand holding and babies perched atop shoulders, curious and pointing. And my heart catches in my chest as I read.
The Message goes on to say
'And that's what happened. The people left their tents to cross the Jordan, led by the priests carrying the Chest of the Covenant. When the priests got to the Jordan and their feet touched the water at the edge (the Jordan overflows its banks throughout the harvest), the flow of water stopped. It piled up in a heap- a long way off.... And there they stood; those priests carrying the Chest of the Covenant stood firmly planted on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan while all Israel crossed on dry ground. Finally the whole nation was across the Jordan, and not one wet foot.'
As the chapter concluded I could sense something building within me. Part scream of frustration, part blossoming hope as I realize we are also being called right into that raging river. I feel every bit the Weary Wanderer longing for a place to settle. We left our beloved Hawaiian island one year ago and nothing has been simple about coming 'home'. It's been rich in countless ways and we wouldn't trade in these past 365 days. But, DANG, they certainly have not been easy.
I'm currently surrounded by boxes as we prepare to make our sixth move. SIX homes in one year. Granted, I'm not packing an entire house worth. But that's part of my inner turmoil, too... 3/4 of our boxes from Hawaii are still in storage (a.k.a my in-law's garage! Sorry guys..) and with the other 1/4 of all our worldly possessions we continue to unpack, create a makeshift home for a time, and then repack.
We are circling the desert, waiting for our Promised Land. We have never doubted God's directing us back here. But that's literally the extent of what we know; we're supposed to be here and the rest is unknown. And now my Faithful Provider, Master of the entire earth, is asking me to step into the river.
Winter is on the horizon. We've woken to temperatures of 40* INSIDE the un-insulated Mission and questioned our sanity. (Then immediately piled in the car, cranked the heater, and made our way to the bakery... somehow my sanity always seems to be hanging out over there by the coffee and fresh donuts!) And I want to run away. I don't want to make the hard decisions anymore. I want an easy answer. But there are none. How much excavation work will Derek have through the winter? Should we proceed with buying property when income is an unknown? How long do we even anticipate living in our tiny, mountain town? I.don't.know. But His answer is simple, 'I will make a way as you continue to walk forward in faith. Step into the river.'
So we will rent a sweet friend's almost-finished-basement for the winter. It is insulated, has running water and is nestled right at the base of the mountains. It's the next step and it's a good one. My work is simple; pack the boxes, breathe deep of the crisp, fall air and embrace another chance to practice contentment, even joy, regardless of circumstance. Stepping into the river...
I just apologized to my Mom for not updating her every step of the way lately. If she knew every detail, every change of plans, though.. I fear she would be suffering from a serious case of whiplash. Our journey may not make a lot of sense to those observing (or even us, at times!) But God never promised that it would. He
did ask us to follow Him. And as the unknowns threaten to suffocate, Philippians 4:6-7 pushes through; a breath of fresh air, '
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.'
Breathe, Bethel. One foot in front of the other. He goes before me, just as He did with the Israelites. As soon as the priests stepped one foot into the river, it says the water 'piled up in a heap'. Can you even imagine?! I can't. But that's pretty much what we need Him to do for us, too. It's going to be unbelievable.. another story to tell of His faithfulness in impossible situations. And that's why He works in these ways. When the unknowns and the overwhelming finally pile up in a heap and we actually
walk through on dry ground, all the glory belongs only, obviously, to the 'Master of the entire earth.'
So, I explained this to Owen, on our walk that day. That we don't know what's next but God will lead us and that's truly all we need to know. We talked about Joshua and about walking across a river bed, about trust and obedience. 'Yeah, buddy, we are stepping into a river.' I said, 'Not one that we can see... but we're doing something scary and trusting that God will bring us out on the other side with dry feet.' And he giggled; his mom sometimes goes a little too deep for a three year old.
And I looked Derek in the eye, across the heads of our precious little men and, swallowing down anxiety, I smile and nod. Yes, I'm terrified. But YES, I will step in, trusting God to go before us. He will guard my weary heart with a peace that 'transcends all understanding' and when the waters pile up in a heap and the world asks who, in their right mind, lives like that?! All we will be able to do is point to Him, continually telling the story of God's goodness.
'A peace that passes understanding is my song
And I sing my hope is in You, Lord.
I wait for You and my soul finds rest
In my selfishness, You show me grace..'
-My Hope Is In You
Aaron Shust
