His name was Joshua and he found himself at the top of the roster.    He had been well trained, spent a lot of years as senior executive assistant to the boss.

Watching, listening, learning.

The master had been his mentor and it was his turn to take over.

The time was now.

God said so.

Without batting an eye or uttering one word about the unlikelihood of success, he started walking.  It sounds easy enough now, well over 2000 years later.

Big shoes to fill.

God’s promise of success came with step by step instructions.

Joshua, son of Nun was God’s chosen man to lead the people, many thousands of them, across the raging river, past their enemies and into the land God had promised to give them.  He listened and did exactly, precisely what God told him to do, beginning with stepping into that river.  You may know that they did in fact get to where they were going.  The endless supply of manna finally did end, thank goodness .  The land of milk and honey became their new home and they were thankful.  For a while anyway.

God chose the leader, for a huge job that in reality should have been impossible.

God said:  No one will be able to stand against you as long as you live. For I will be with you as I was with Moses. I will not fail you or abandon you.  Joshua 1:5

Everybody arrived on the other side of the river

after passing through the river valley on dry ground, by the way

And then

one man from each tribe.  Twelve

chose one rock each to carry on their shoulders.  Twelve rocks, from the very spot where the priests had stood, holding the ark of the covenant.  God dwelling among them, while the nation passed by.

Those twelve placed their rocks, piled together, at the first stop in the new land.

A Memorial!  Remembered forever!    God’s commitment to His promise!

A Legacy!  For the generations to come.

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.”  Joshua 4:24

Her name is Catherine and I asked if I could talk about her, to you.  She has a house full of little ones.  Three girls and a boy.  The girls  run and play and learn and do all those things that school age girls do.  They keep Catherine busy and she does what mom’s do and is thankful to be able to.  The fourth child in Catherine’s Nest is a boy.  His name is Jared and he is 7.  Jared does not do the things most boys his age do.  He is “developmentally disabled and has autism” and has the “mentality and mischief of a 2 year old”.

I met Catherine four years ago.  She was often in the children’s class, helping.  When she did make an appearance around our core group table she shared insight and wisdom that God was teaching her.  She spoke quietly and with confidence.

Since that first wisdom sharing experience

I have spent many mornings around a Table of Learning with Catherine.   God decided to bless her with a life of joy and laughter and hardship and sadness and difficulty and fun and exhaustion

and

she continues to praise Him.  She doesn’t  talk about life in the face of adversity but she lives it every day.  I haven’t asked her but wouldn’t be surprised if there are mornings when her eyes open and she considers the hours ahead, wonders how she will accomplish what needs to be accomplished.

She chooses, every day, to put her feet in those shoes and do what needs to be done.  The job is big.  The rewards must at times seem meagre.

God spoke clearly to Catherine last spring.  I know this because she told me.

He suggested, Clearly

she, with those big shoes He asks her to wear, trust Him for the strength she would need to actually do some jumping,

right into a leadership position.  She thought about it for a minute or two.

Then, knowing full well it was Him who was asking and up to her to believe and step into the raging river of I trust I am hearing Him right

 she did what He said and

jumped.

Catherine will study and share each week.  As she does that sharing, she will learn and we who listen will learn and some days we/I will say, “Wow that was exactly what I needed to hear today”.   Maybe it will be something I know well and it isn’t new at all but it will still be good and I will grow

in Wisdom and knowledge.  Reading and studying God’s Living Word is like that.  When you read it, you can’t help but learn.  That’s why He gave it to us.

Just the other day Catherine talked about

Remembering.

Remembering the past.  Remembering in the present.  Remembering in the future.  Just as Joshua, Because God told him to, instructed the people to prepare a memorial for future generations.

 The Blessing.  Significant.  Sometimes, to dig it out of the past requires careful consideration.

Catherine presented a challenge.

What will you leave as a legacy for your children,  a memorial for the generations to come?

It was a good question.

I have been thinking about it a lot these past three days.  There may have been others sitting in that room who are pondering  tonight.

Joshua 1:8 says  This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.

It came to me tonight!

The Legacy I leave is actually not mine.

Really, what do I have to give that could last

forever?

Can’t think of anything!

Don’t look at me.

I am a sinner, loved.

A piece of clay, being formed into something beautiful.  It will take a lifetime.

Here is the offering to whomever might ask me for something to grab hold of on the journey.

“…This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

 My own parents had nothing of earthly value to leave behind and we didn’t question it, ever.  I know, have always known, am thankful to know, am blessed to have been introduced to the inheritance that transfers from this World to the life ever after.

It is An Education in what lasts.

My Dad is gone but his Bible is here, in my house.  The words in the margins and the note found among the pages were part of the gift left behind when he moved from this land to his forever, promised home.  I cherish it partly because it was his.  I cherish it also because it is true and tells me about my real inheritance.

The pearl of great price

The gift of great value

The treasure worth seeking

Life 

in and through

YAHWEH / JEHOVAH

God Himself. 

We went apple picking.

My friend and I.

I used to take my little ones to the apple orchard in the Fall.

There are pictures in the boxes down in the archives of this house.  They show three little people wearing boots and eating apples that are big and shiny and we are close to a tree that is full of fruit.  Those times in the orchard made  memories.   For me and for them as well.

Sensational is what memories often are.  They encourage remembrances of tastes, smells, sight and even sound.  When I go to the orchard,

it is a different orchard  because That orchard is now full of houses, 

the smell makes me happy.  It isn’t just because of memories.   I love Fall.  Some people call it Autumn but I like Fall.

Not sure where this time of year got it’s name but maybe it’s because leaves and apples and other fruit and nuts fall off the trees.

Fall smells good.  We live in this place where green leaves turn to orange and red and it is beauty beyond words.  I sometimes walk and just look.

So on Saturday we picked Two, half bushel bags of Cortland apples.  They are my favorite for baking and stewing and even eating fresh.

Yes, a bushel IS a lot, for a city girl who is shy on time for “putting Up” this Fall.  I couldn’t resist them and it took 10 minutes to fill those two bags.

I drove home thinking about what I would do with that many apples.  Pie, crisp, sauce and I didn’t worry about the work.

I have a friend who once, years ago was telling a story about her son and how he wanted to be excused from work and get to playing.  I doubt I will ever forget the sound of her voice when she said, “I just looked at him and said, Nick, LIFE IS WORK.  PLAY is a BONUS.”  Well I sure laughed.  Hard.  I found it funny because it was  true and  direct and  No Nonsense.

I kind of live by those words too.  At our house, years ago,  when there was work to be done it got done.   That was the House Way.   I don’t worry too much about work although I am guilty at times of procrastinating.

 I like to get the work done so I can enjoy the fun without thinking about the work that needs to be done.  

My newish friend who is the future Mrs. Staley’s mother, sent me a text a few weeks ago.  She said she wanted to read something I had sent her but was saving it until her face was washed and her teeth brushed and she was tucked into bed.

Yep!   I understand!   Get the work, the mundane, out of the way, first!

Business before pleasure!

So, I have a bushel of apples in front of me and I made a list of jobs I need to take care of over the next two days.  Hopefully by the end of those two days these bags will be empty and in their place will be jars and pie plates and cake pans, full.

Saturday, I headed home from the orchard and stopped to pick up a few things for dinner.  This time I didn’t need to wander the meat department.  I went straight for what I wanted.  I knew what was on the menu and grabbed one of those cute compact carts.  I filled it with a bag of long grain brown rice.  A bunch of fresh carrots.  One garlic bulb.  A bag of cooking onions.  a carton of vegetable stock.  a package of 6 small V8 juice cans.  a bunch of celery AND a package containing two small beef tenderloins.    I hauled my supplies, including those bags of apples, to the kitchen and got to work.

It may sound rather prideful but that was the best beef stir fry I have ever made.  When it was gone we ate our Hot from the Oven, apple crisp with vanilla ice cream.

It wasn’t  officially Fall yet, last Saturday, but you would not have known that, what with the picking of apples and then the smell of them baking.

 

 

I was on the subway today.  It was discovered recently, that One young Staley man, the fellow about to be married, had an expired passport.  Since he needs that passport to get to the place where the wedding is happening, it is important that he have a current passport.  He and his lovely gal needed a relative to stand in line and submit the completed paperwork.

Mom to the rescue.  Happy to.  I took the subway and once my work was done found myself at the home of a friend who provided sustenance in the form of a delicious grilled cheese sandwich.  Very kind.  Later, she dropped me off next to the subway which is also next to a grocery store.  As I so often do when needing inspiration for dinner prep, I wandered the meat aisle and sure enough, there I saw skinless, bone-in chicken breasts.  On sale yet!  So, I picked up a couple of packages and made my way home via the subway.

Benefit of city living!  No car necessary!

I wanted something tasty (obviously) and decided to take the chicken off the bones.  Check it out and see what I came up with.  I am calling it Breaded chicken with slightly cheesy sauce.   I hope you like it!

I visited Holland.  Just last week.  The adventure was beautiful, delightful and often I was reminded of God.

It seems not to matter where I go in this World or who I am with but that God reminds me of His presence.  He isn’t a figment of my imagination. Thankfully.  

He is not something I conjure up from inside myself.  Blessed Relief since more than often, inside myself is not a good place.

He is constant as I have told you before and Even when I am weak He is strong.

How do I know all of this?  How can I be so sure?  I will tell you clearly, it is because He lives within me.  As Alfred Ackley wrote, I serve a risen Savior He’s in the World today….You asked me how I know He lives.  He lives within my heart.

We had been in the Netherlands for a few days, biking and walking and seeing.  I recommend it and if you have never been, plan to do as we did.  Bike and walk and see.  You will like it I am certain.  

We rode to Haarlem.

It was quite a jaunt from the heart of Amsterdam to the center of that town.  It was, start to finish, a 45 KM day and we were tired I can tell you 

when it was all said and done.

Someone just yesterday asked what my favorite part of that Holland trip had been.  I struggle with

favorite

food, books, people, clothes, vacation places, movies, flowers…

so many in each category and how could I settle on just one.

There were, during those 9 days, numerous opportunities to pick favorites and the thought never did cross my mind.  They were all good.  Some were

just a little MORE good.

If however, I had to choose, it would be that trip to Haarlem.  Not the hard pedaling I did or the traffic along the way, or the wind that hampered my progress.

No

it was the reminder, during the few hours spent there, of

faith in the face of fear.

The reminder that God speaks to people even when they don’t know it.  Even when they aren’t expecting Him.  I watched and listened and was surprised

By the bold storytelling about lives lived for Jesus.

There was a family  in Haarlem in the early part of the 20th century.  They loved people.    They hid Jews during the diabolical dictatorship of Hitler.  They risked their lives to save innocent people and the story of their selfless work is known around the world.

Until that day in Haarlem I thought everybody knew of the Ten Boom Family.  I was wrong.

There is a little clock shop at the edge of the town square.  It still says

Behind and above that little shop is the home where the Ten Boom Family lived.

It’s a museum now.  Well, by museum I mean that the home once lived in by the Ten Boom family is now a place where people can visit.  There are tours and they allow 20 at a time inside.  The 20 are led up the stairs to the living room.  I was one of the 20, at 2:00 p.m.

I sat on a chair in that living room.  I looked around at the other 19 sitting there.  We were crowded into the space and we listened as our storyteller, a volunteer that looked 30ish, talked about the people who had lived there those many years before.  I was surprised to hear, as she asked how many people knew of Corrie Ten Boom,

that most had not.

Most, knew nothing about the Book Corrie had written when the devastation was finished.

Years ago I had heard of The Hiding Place  but not read it.  I was 15 years old and at a camp on a small island off the coast of Vancouver Island.  It was a good and growing summer for me.  I learned a lot about people and about myself.

There was a lady, one of the directors and every day she read to us.  Yes, we could have read for ourselves and most certainly we were old enough to do so.  There is something though, about being read To.  Her gentle voice sharing Corrie’s story, drew me in and it was so real.  I listened to every word and was amazed.

A few years later, I read it myself.

I am going to dig it out and read it again.

I have been to Haarlem now and walked the streets where the soldiers walked and the Jewish people crept through the night.

They found refuge at that little home.  Frequently had to hide inside the wall on the top floor

When the bell rang, those people scrambled through a small door at the bottom of the linen closet and stood shoulder to shoulder, holding their breath until danger was gone.   Sometimes for hours.

One family saved many.

The Ten Booms shared their faith in Jesus, those years ago.  They are all gone now.  Most of them died in concentration camps.

Corrie lived to tell the story and what a story it is.  She was released the day after she watched her sister die. She met one of the guards  years later and had an opportunity to choose whether to forgive

or not.

A young doctor introduced himself on an occasion and said he was one of the children the Ten Booms had hidden, years earlier.

All of it is horrific, incredible, God redeemed.

I sat in that little room

listened and watched.

The girl in her broken english told the story of a family of

God lovers

who had been willing to give their lives for others, because God had given His life for them.

I thought about the groups of people coming to this place every day.  Not a lot at a time but a lot over the days and months and years.  I thought about the volunteers who share Jesus with people who know nothing about Him.  I thought about the people who read about the Ten Boom clock shop on the tourist brochures and decide to take the tour because it is a good way to kill some time.  What they don’t know, all of these people, is that God speaks, moves, opens eyes, even when we are not looking for Him to do so.

God is like that.

I looked and considered and yet again found myself swallowing tears on this day, in a little town where God had done great things and was continuing to do great things.  Beauty out of ashes.  Good from evil because of committed ones who were willing to be

Faithful!

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,^[a]
2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
³     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.  Isaiah 61:1-3

“For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?”