Day Twenty-Two: Genesis 15
It was about at this time that Joshua crossed over the Jordan. The priests who carried the ark walked to the edge of the river, and as their toes touched the water, God stopped the flow of the river…even though it was flooding, as it is now.[i] Were they afraid as they advanced? The whole company crossed over, as on dry land, and entered the Promised Land…their wilderness wanderings were over…this crossing was the beginning of the fulfilment of the promises God made to the patriarchs many years prior to the actual event. About five hundred years of delayed hope lay between Abraham and Joshua. Five hundred years! How did they keep the flame of hope alive when the winds of doubt were blowing?
Moses tells us that Abraham believed God.[ii] Believed, in spite of his doubts. And yet he died without experiencing the fulfilment of the promise. Yes, he had a son, but no land…the land could only be seen through the eyes of faith. But if hope fails, does faith fail also? Not with Abraham…not with Isaac…not with Jacob…not with his descendants…not with Moses…not with Joshua. Why then does hope and faith fail with me? Is my faith that small?
I cannot think on this now. Such deliberations crowd out Benjamin…and I must keep him before my face. I am afraid that if I do not think on him, that I will forget him completely…that I will move on as the others have moved on…consigning Benjamin to an unrecalled, bygone era. I sit by the river and conjure up images…some are fleeting, others stay a little longer…but they all move on far too quickly.
Why didn’t he stay? Why did he leave me?
I hear his laughter…I look up, expecting to see his smiling face peering at me from behind a rock…but there is no one. Is there a promise for me to believe? If there is, what is it?
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