Jericho: Day Six.

Six times.  Once per day.  Circle the city.  In silence.

Simple instructions.  Clear Commands.

But to a people of wandering, one has to wonder, and compare, what their voices murmured, their hearts questioned, and their confidence felt.

These are The People.  The Israelites.  The chosen nation of God.  Holy and devoted to him.  The same people who witnessed the plagues, dripped blood over doors, and crossed the Red Sea.  The same people who saw the Egyptian army drowned, ate quail and manna from heaven, and drank water from a rock.  The same people who saw Moses go up onto Mt. Sinai, were guided by the cloud and fire, and walked the Jordan on dry sand.

Their also the same people who wished to go back into slavery from exile, who grumbled for better provisions, who danced before the golden calf.

These are the children of that nation, the second generation of the Red Sea, the firstborn hearers of the oral stories, the tales of the true and old.

Their leaders have courage, strength and soul-worthy. Of the twelve, these two names forever known.  Joshua and Caleb, they directed them.  A people freshly crossed into Promised Land.

The land was theirs, the city too.  Already given, handed, conquered.  Before they strapped their sandals to walk.

"See, I have given Jericho into your hand, with its king and mighty men of color.  You shall march around the city..." [said the Lord] (Joshua 6:2)  {Notice the past tense: given - already sealed and done! And present tense: shall march - the promise was granted before the obedience!}

And here is where I stop to pause.  The story is common, told and retold.  But the message to me new, afresh.

Six times.  Six times they had to just show up.  To see Day Seven.  To view the promise.  To gain the reward.

But then I know them, I read their Torah stories, and know them in my heart.  Its hot.  Its dry.  They're hungry, they're tired.  The'yre living in tents, they're dirty, they're probably hungry.  Their children are crying, they're sick of wandering, and now this silly stunt.

I hear their grumbles, I see their rolling eye.  I feel my shoulder shrug,  I bicker in my soul.

So much of me is like them.  I know it in my soul.  Like them, I don't want to get up.  I don't want to get more dusty, more dirty.  I don't want to show up on Day Four... Five... Six.

They hear the sounds of taunting, angry people of Jericho, yelling from walls.  They listen to the striking of iron, the clanging of armor, the men inside preparing for battle. They hear the frantic hustle of women, gathering gusto for war.  They cringe at screams from children, huddled careful underneath cloaks.  They know these are the giants, mirrored Goliath-men daunting the bravest men.  Israelites feeble and frightened, questioning if fool to be marching around Jericho again.  Day Six.

They have seen miracle after marvel after milestone.  And yet...  They're the same people who wallow their weakness, who want to sit under the shade tree, who have yet to fully trust God to do Day Seven what he said he would do.

And I wonder if I would show up with my sandals on that Day Six.  Strapped and ready, trusting God in walking, in waiting, and in silence.

But only from couraging and committing to Day Six, does one get to partake in the glory of Day Seven.

Standing, marching, dirty with calloused feet.  The people start the dusty trod.  Then Joshua exclaims, "Shout!  For the Lord has given you the city!" (Joshua 6:16).

The screaming starts.  The people utterly belch out every part of their depth, yelling and trumpets and wailing in obedience, aimed at the thick city wall.  Then...

Crack...

To hear the first crackle, the first splitting rock, the first fissure in the stone!

I want to be there when Jericho falls.  I want to watch the first quake, see the first crash, and feel the first sandstone tumble, before the rupture and ruin take place.

But I only get to be part of Day Seven, if I show up for Days One, Two Three, Four, Five, and Six.  I only get to grasp the greatness of glory, if I do the hard walk of waiting in the preparation days.

I want to be there on Day Seven.  I want to see the greatness of God displayed!  I want watch the rubble so the name of God is praised.  Dear Lord, let me trust in your granted promises, with strength, courage and endurance to show up on Day Six.