My Pile of Rocks

I am kind of in that no man's land that you wander into during transition. I don't normally welcome big changes and I become awkward during the whole ordeal. But one thing I have resolved is that I must remember. I have to remember how hard the last year was. I have to remember the pain, fear, doubt, anger, frustration, agony, loneliness, but most importantly the love of God in it all. When I look back now I see amazing provision. The path for us has been made smooth and easy to trod in the midst of the chaos. Yeah, Pharaoh has been breathing down our necks but the river bed is dry my friends. By God's grace we crossed the Jordan.

My dad used to make up stories to tell us at bedtime. But one he told was non fiction. The story of Joshua at Gilgal. He used this high pitched crazy kid voice to ask the question, "Mommy & Daddy, what are these rocks here for?" It always made us laugh. I can still hear it. Here I am years later remembering that story, just like I need to remember the story of last year.

I have a funny habit of wanting to collect rocks from places I visit. I guess rocks are sort of universally good for remembrance. For now I have a figurative pile. The next time I own a house it will be a real pile. And I hope my kids (and grandkids) ask me why they are there.

And Joshua set up at Gilgal the twelve stones they had taken out of the Jordan. He said to the Israelites, "In the future when your descendants ask their fathers, 'What do these stones mean?' tell them, 'Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.' For the Lord your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over. The Lord your God did to the Jordan just what he had done to the Red Sea when he dried it up before us until we had crossed over. He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that you might always fear the Lord your God.