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May 27, 2012 - March 3, 2013
Joshua at Jericho
These walls, they tower above me erupting from this soil, impenetrable tipped with crests and angry spears Curses falling from those ramparts land ineffective around my dusty feet passing once again that scarlet cord I’ve walked by twelve times before. Looking up at the window it connects to this dust I see hopeful faces peer as disbelieving deliverance had come.
Before me dust is stirred beneath holy feet the air loud with the sound of trumpets, bright with glory beaming from gold. Guiding us, this sound, this glory, leads us around these walls, silent, but for our thoughts, our pounding blood. What those behind me were thinking I do not know, but I, I had seen Pharaoh felled from his place as a tree for fuel. I, I and one other, had seen part the sea, The Sea! walking dry within it, followed by the army of our enemy. We danced on the shores of freedom as it crashed upon that panicked horde. Free! We were free! Four Hundred years and finally we are FREE!
And the sadness long years ago when giants scared them off even the three of us could not turn this tide of fear and bore the years for their faithless foolishness. How many men lay beneath desert sand whose children now here march silently, expectantly, knowingly; trusting God to open these walls. Merest babes when their parents quailed they now claim their own this land having not seen Pharaoh humbled as a child for whom Sinai was but a story of the aged. These, THESE! now marched in faith to claim the land their fathers feared.
Dust dances excited in the afternoon reminiscent of the smoke on Sinai as I crowded upon its flanks, Moses facing the thundering voice of God. He had seen God as friend sees friend and I, I saw on his face the reflection of the glory that gave him power. I shared his anger at Sinai’s foot where false gold gleamed bright amid the tumult of celebration, palely imitating that gleam and sound before me marching sure. “How could they?” I recall my mind bare days from their slavery feet yet wet from the sea thrilling tambourines played in joy scarce silent, they could do this? And, amazed, saw the mercy spare what should have died.
Forty years among that faith more often weak than strong and now, today, its test did that crucible of time make them strong or brittle these people that encourage me “Be strong, and courageous.” It matters not, I and mine will go with God, This circling of forbidding walls mere ceremony, merely a claim to what has been ours forever. I alone, had God told me, would have marched in silence these six days past these twelve marches past this past march almost done. I and I alone, had God told me, would have knocked down these walls with but a glare at the sin it shields at those angry crests above me; not fearing these insults hurled through the air as spears in war. They would not have touched me for I am God’s!
Would that Moses could have seen what I am seeing now, this last circuit almost complete first feet almost touch first print, finding myself gathering breath anticipating the sole action we have practicing the reach for my sword ensuring it slides easy from its sheath as we marchers have slid easy from the sheath where God has held us. what they will do. I and I alone could take this place, had God told me. And foot touches print and I smile as the din of victory resounds encircling these walls from before me to behind. Faces on the ramparts gaze confused that our cries of joyous praise precedes the breaking of their walls the deaths of these defenders. Confusion turning to amazement and to terror, as these most solid walls in all this land of ours begin to shake (our yells now encircling this city, a mighty shout to God most high our act of worship as He told us). Our yells scarcely falter as we see CRACKS! appear beneath those whose fear had fueled their hate all week staggering like men late drunk spear cast aside, useless, for handhold themselves useless as these mighty walls crumbled before a far more mighty God.
Come what may in years to come today is a good day to live as I and those with me turn, running, toward the ruin of rebellion our yells of praise continue none can stand our rush as we reclaim what is God’s making holy once again, what man has debased. Would they would remember, as I and mine most truly will, down the years ahead of them that today, TODAY! God fought for us as He had within Egypt as He had within the sea as He had within the desert for forty years defending a people no more worthy than these now dead. Would they would remember, as I and mine most truly will, that he who is not for God opposes He who brooks no foe.
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Joshua at Jericho A poem by Peter Rhebergen Download the book Each New Day a Miracle Bible Studies How to Study the Bible Life is Wonderful Photography Copyright 2024 About me |
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