A glance around my living room reveals many mementoes. All right, knick-knacks. But each one has meaning—family heirlooms, travel souvenirs, and gifts from friends. We display them to remind us of where we come from, where we’ve been, and the people we love.
Our memories are flimsy, fickle things, remembering useless trivia and painful occurrences—but able to let the good slip into oblivion. We know that. We fear that. So to trigger our memories, we display objects or build monuments, like Scotland's monument to William Wallace in the photo.
God knows the weakness of our memories too. When He led Joshua and the nation of Israel across the Jordan River and into the Promised Land, He knew time would pass, generations would pass, and the people would forget. They would think Joshua alone led them. They would think the people found their way all by themselves. They would think that they had always lived in Israel and had never been delivered from Egypt.
So He commanded them to build a memorial—twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan River, built into a memorial at Gilgal to remind them of what the Lord had done.
Isn’t that the best kind of memorial—to remind us of what the Lord has done in our lives? I’d rather forget a trip to Europe, my best friend, and even my own grandparents than forget the wonderful works of God.
“In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them…” (Joshua 4: 6, italics mine).
Do you have anything in your home to remind you what God has done?
Labels: Joshua, memorials