Raising My Ebenezer

In my Bible reading for today, God led the Israelites through yet another river on dry ground.  This time they're heading in to claim victory and settle in The Promised Land, and they need to cross the Jordan River to get there.  {There are also a number of other things they need to do, such as allow God to completely "dispossess" the land from all the people settling it.  If we watch the news today, we can clearly see how well it worked out for them when they decided to live "peacefully" with all these people instead.}  In Joshua 3: 9-13 in  The Message, after Joshua has told the priests to begin crossing the Jordan with the Ark of the Covenant and instructs the Israelites to watch and pay attention to what God is saying, he says, "Look at what's before you: the Chest of the Covenant.  Think of it--the Master of the entire earth is crossing the Jordan as you watch."

Once they are safely across--with "not one wet foot"--Joshua instructs a man from each of the 12 tribes of Israel to take a stone from the middle of the Jordan River and build a monument on the banks to remember the day that God led them through on dry land.  This raising of the Ebenezer is a common thing in the Old Testament.  It's a reminder of God's presence.  His intervention.  His grace.  His plan.

This morning I was reminded of an Ebenezer that I could raise alongside US-131 heading south from Cadillac.  Last year we were driving our full van of sleeping beauties home from Beau's parents' house, and the roads were bad.  We should have stayed in Cadillac, but we weren't prepared for that, so we ventured home.  At one point, as we were driving across a bridge spanning a fairly deep ravine, we hit black ice.  Beau completely lost control of the car, and we were sliding toward the bridge railing and the edge of the ravine.  For 20 long seconds we slid, within feet of striking a railing that likely wouldn't have held us at our speed.  As we slid, I said, over and over again, "It's okay.  It's okay.  It's okay."

Beau reminded me of that this morning as we drove the roads of the first day of real winter to hit West Michigan this year.  He said, "You kept saying it was okay, but it wasn't okay.  I didn't have control, and I didn't think I'd get it back.  I figured we were going over." 

With tears in my eyes, I recalled my feelings at that moment.  And I replied, "I wasn't telling you that you were in control or that we'd be fine because you'd get control back.  I was telling you that it was okay if we hit.  It was okay if we went over.  It was okay if we were injured or even if we died.  To be honest, I'm quite pleased that was my first response.  Because it really would have been okay.  We know where we're going, and we know Who holds us."

And it really would have been okay.  Because we could look at Who was before us on that bridge.  The Master of the entire earth was crossing ahead of us and behind us and next to us.  He had us in his hands.  He was in control, even if we weren't.  Think of it!