My Own Promised Land

I've been thinking lately of those Israelites. The ones that came to a screeching halt just their side of the Jordan River then sat down and pouted. They pleaded to know what was ahead. It wasn't enough to see all that was behind. Brushing the doorposts with lamb's blood. Walking straight through a sea. Witnessing the utter annihilation of their enemy. Chasing a pillar of fire through the desert. It wasn't enough. How could that not be enough? So Moses gives in and sends out twelve men, one from each tribe. They spy out their inheritance. Forty days to get a good look. They come back amazed, lugging one single cluster of grapes that requires two poles to carry. They talk about how incredible their birthright is. It's a land flowing with milk and honey. But then again, there are ten of them -- the majority! -- that don't think their God is big enough. He can part the Red Sea but He can't handle those giants. The Creator of the universe that just showed His power and unfathomable love for these people is incapable. How could they be so, well, chicken!

But then I have to look closer. Close enough to see me. So they wanted to go back to Egypt? If I think about it, I can at least see that, perhaps, this thinking wasn't as absurd as it might first appear to be. After all, they had paraded out of there with the heartbroken Egyptians (who had all just lost their firstborn sons) thrusting gold at them as they left. Then, they had watched the commanding forces of their enslavement being wiped out in a single tsunami -- in the Red Sea, no less. Maybe they thought if they went back, things would be different, things would be better for them. Maybe they even thought they could go back and rule things there.

So why have I been thinking about all of this? I guess because I wonder if I'm staring at my own family's inheritance. An inheritance of sorts in a different kind of foreign land. I wonder if I've reared up on my heels and begun to question if my God is big enough to conquer all the giants that might threaten. All the fears I have. All the possible problems ahead. I wonder if His plan is really better than where I'm at now. Like the Israelites, I've seen all He's done before -- but I wonder if He can really be all that I would need for Him to be in this new inheritance. All that my husband would need for Him to be. But, of course, for the Israelites, it was never about God's inability to be the Great Lover of their souls, the Great Provider of their needs. It was just that they couldn't see everything that was ahead. They saw only the giants. And they thought, for some reason, they would be on their own now.

I don't want to see only giants. I want to believe that there is milk and honey for me and my family. I believe that my Promised Land is waiting, and I believe that we are not on our own.