“It was there at Gilgal that Joshua piled up the twelve stones taken from the Jordan River.” Joshua 4:20 (NLT)
As a child, one of my favorite places to play was a bedraggled plot of weeds at the edge of my uncle’s farm. Dotted with rusty oil barrels and timeworn tractor parts, discarded soda bottles and mud-caked stones, the overgrown patch of green provided endless hours of “treasure hunting” for my young cousins and me.
We gathered pieces of shattered glass as if they were precious jewels and collected dandelions like nuggets of gold. We scavenged for gum wrappers and bottle caps, for acorns and butterfly wings. But we were most intrigued by the abandoned shanty that sat in the middle of that littered lot. Of course, with doors locked and windows sealed, we couldn’t see what was inside … until the day we began stacking rocks.
We’d been playing tag when we noticed a fallen tree limb had shattered the window just above our heads. We’d tried to lift one another up to climb through the splintered passageway, but our muscles weren’t as developed as our imaginations.
That’s when my cousin dropped to his knees and began digging in the dirt. Before long, he’d excavated a flat, hefty rock from the sunbaked soil and placed it beneath the window.
We spent the rest of the afternoon stacking stones until our arms throbbed and our fingernails turned a silty shade of brown. But before dusk’s debut, we crawled through that opening and discovered a wondrous cache of treasure — chipped coffee cups and dusty books, sagging lampshades and dingy tea towels.
“I can’t believe this treasure has been here all along,” my cousin said with an incredulous yelp. “We just couldn’t see it without our pile of rocks.”
In the fourth chapter of Joshua, where today’s verse is found, we discover another crew of children stacking stones. Of course, these kids aren’t 4-foot dreamers biding time in a patch of weeds; they are the children of Israel preparing to step into the Promised Land.
But before they move forward, God invites them to look back. He commands them to dig some stones out of the muddy riverbank they’d just crossed (while it was miraculously dry) and to stack them high as a reminder of the great things He has done. God knows that when we forget what He’s done in the past, we begin to doubt what He can do in the present.
Maybe I love this story because, like those children of long ago, I’m prone to forget. I forget my keys. I forget my grocery list. And sadly, when the spin of life presses in, I tend to forget God’s faithfulness too.
But, maybe I love this story because it holds the secret for improving my memory. And lately, I’ve been stacking some “spiritual stones.” Not actual rocks caked in mud, just memories laced with gratitude. Each week, I’m setting aside some time to remember the great things God has done:
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