When we're quick to judge... (and what to do about it).

In my Bible reading this morning, I came to Joshua chapter 22. The chapter heading in my Bible says, "The Eastern tribes return home." So, who are these Eastern tribes?

They're often also known as the "transJordan" tribes. You see, when the people of Israel were coming to the end of their 40 years of wandering in the desert and were getting ready to cross the Jordan river and enter the promised land, there were a few of the tribes who liked the look of the fertile land right where they were - on the eastern side of the river. In Numbers chapter 32, we read that the tribes of Reuben and Gad asked Moses for permission to have their territory on that side of the Jordan.

Concerned that they were perhaps unwilling to do the hard work of fighting to conquer Canaan, Moses granted them the transJordan territory on one condition: they were to cross the river with everyone else and fight alongside their brothers until the promised land was won. Reuben, Gad, and half of the tribe of Manasseh agreed to do that. All throughout the book of Joshua, they have been fighting alongside their brothers, facing the same challenges and dangers as the rest of the people.

Now, in chapter 22, the land has been conquered and it's finally time for those two and half tribes to cross the river again and go back to the place that will be their home from that time onwards. Joshua commends them for not deserting their brothers, encourages them to remain faithful to God, and sends them on their way.

One of the first things they do when they get there is to build a replica of the Lord's altar - not for making burnt offerings and sacrifices, but simply as a symbol that they are part of the same people, worshipping the same God. Because the broad Jordan river separated them from the rest of Israel, they didn't want to take the risk that some future generation would say, "You are not part of us and you have no claim to our God." Taking time to build the altar was visible evidence of their allegiance to the God of Israel.

But what happens? Their own kinsmen, who have benefitted for years from the support and solidarity of the transJordan tribes, are quick to judge them, to believe the worst of them and to accuse them of doing something terribly wrong. After such a long time of fighting side by side, the tribes on the west bank (see vs 12) now prepare to go to war against their own people.

Fortunately, despite having already judged them in their hearts, they had the good sense, or the godly wisdom, to send a delegation first - to listen to their brothers and to find out what was really going on. If only we would do that whenever we find ourselves judging and criticising others; if only we would speak directly to them, instead of constructing our own theory about the terrible thing we believe they are doing.

If speaking directly to their brothers was a good move, the way that they did it was not exactly diplomatic. They demanded to know (vs 16 - 18), "Why are you betraying the God of Israel?" and their speech was littered with accusations such as, "rebellion", "sin", and "turning away from God." The judgement in their hearts was evident in the way that they spoke. How much kinder it would have been to take an approach along the lines of, "It looks to us as if you're building an altar. Can you tell us more about what prompted you to do that?"

Fortunately, the eastern tribes responded in humility and were able to explain the true motivation for what they had done. An all-out war was avoided, and the western tribes went home in peace.

We may never completely avoid making the mistake that the western tribes made. It seems to be human nature to judge others' words or actions and forget to "believe the best" of them.  But we can at least choose to respond to our critical thoughts in a godly way:

1. We can begin by confessing them to the Lord and asking for His forgiveness.

2) We can speak to the other party directly and hear their side of the story. It may be nothing at all like what we judged it to be.

3) When we do make an approach, we can be careful to use respectful and non-accusatory language, always being open to the fact that we may have judged someone completely wrongly.

If God's people would only respond in this way, we could avoid so many conflicts between individuals, so many misunderstandings between churches or groups, and so much unnecessary "going to war."  May God give us the grace to deal with our judgements in a positive way. 

Discovering what people know about you...

I don't usually introduce myself by saying that I'm a missionary. It's not that I'm trying to hide anything; it's just that, here in Spain, people's usual concept of a missionary means that you must be a nun, an ordained worker in the Catholic Church. So I usually introduce myself by saying that I do voluntary work with a Christian organisation.

That's why I was kind of surprised by two encounters that I had yesterday. I had gone to the town hall in the centre of town. I was trying to track down a contact for a house that might be available, but not having any success in reaching the owner. Because the town hall keeps a list of registered residents of the town, I hoped perhaps to be able to find a way of contacting this man (even though I knew that data protection laws might mean they wouldn't be able to help me.)

While I was waiting to be attended to, a young woman came in and joined the queue. She was wearing a brightly coloured jacket with a website address on it and carrying a bunch of posters for some upcoming youth event. After a while, I asked her what her organisation was about and, sure enough, it was about volunteerism and other activities for youth. 

It seemed to be a completely secular organisation, so when I mentioned that I also work with youth and with projects in Europe and Africa, I was totally surprised when she asked me, "Are you a missionary?" (I didn't think I looked particularly like a nun!)

Sure enough, when I said that I was a missionary, her next question was whether I was a lay person or whether I was a "religiosa" (a nun.) I think it's the first time that a Spanish person has ever asked me whether I'm a missionary.

What happened later was even stranger, though. A town hall worker came to help me with my enquiry and it turned out to be a man who lives near me. I didn't even know his name, but I had often seen him walking his dog and we had said hallo to each other.

Despite searching their computers and making a few phone calls, he wasn't able to help me with what I was looking for. In the course of the conversation, however, I explained that it was because I needed to move house and was looking for somewhere to live. "Oh, give me your contact number," he said. "I know someone who sometimes has information about flats for rent and I'll ask him to contact you if anything turns up."

So I told him my phone number and I was still standing next to him as he sent a text message to the person he knew. I was close enough to read what he was writing and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him write, "Es buena persona; es misionera." (She's a good person; she's a missionary.) I didn't even know the man's name, yet somehow he knew more about me than I realised.

"How do you know that I'm a missionary?" I asked him.

"I think my wife told me," he said. "Everyone in the neighbourhood knows.  Everyone knows you as the neighbourhood dog trainer, but sometimes you wouldn't be around for a while and people would say you'd gone to Africa because you're a missionary."

I was genuinely surprised. It's true that I've lived in my neighbourhood for 13 years and I've made no secret about what I do, but I never imagined that all kinds of casual acquaintances know such details about me. 

It's made me aware that my current situation is being observed - especially by those who know me well. Non-Christian friends have even made comments along the lines of, "Your God will have a solution for you, but it must be hard in the moment to keep looking and not finding somewhere to live."

I've said before that I know I need some kind of miracle this year. Now I'm more aware than ever that the miracle, when it happens, could be a powerful testimony of the reality of God.

Completely different inheritances...

Yesterday and today I've been reading those chapters in the book of Joshua that describe the allotment of the promised land given to each of the tribes of Israel. (See yesterday's post here.)

This morning I was reflecting that two small cameos in those half dozen chapters show us two "extremes" when it comes to our attitude and expectations of inheritance. Not extremes in a bad way; just two completely different scenarios. The first concerns the people known as the Levites, and the second concerns a woman named Acsah.

I've often reflected on the fact that the Levites, those who served God full time in the Tabernacle (and later in the Temple), were to receive no allotment of land like the other tribes of Israel did. I read it recently in the book of Exodus, and it came up again today in Joshua chapter 13 verse 14. Everyone else received land of their own, to farm and be fruitful.... but the Levites were never to be landowners. Instead, "the Lord Himself was their inheritance," and they were to be supported by the tithes and offerings of the people who did own land of their own. The Levites knew this and so they had no expectation at all of living out their lives on their own property.

Often throughout my lifetime, I've wondered if being an overseas missionary means that I'm in the same category as the Levites: that I will never have a physical inheritance of my own, but will live my life in rented accommodation, supported by the offerings of other people who do have a salary and perhaps also a long term home of their own.

Of course, the tribal structure of Israelite community meant that the Levites continued to be provided for, even when they stopped full time service and retired at age 50. (See Numbers chapter 8 verses 25-26.) I've wondered sometimes how that will work out in our modern world, where "full time workers" such as missionaries are supported by the gifts of people who believe in the work/ministry they are doing and want to partner with them in that. How does it work when you're 90 years old and no longer as actively involved in ministry and service?

That answer was clear for the Levites, however, and they simply had no expectation at all that they would ever have land of their own. 

The other scenario is the situation of Caleb's daughter, Acsah (Joshua chapter 15 verses 18 - 19). After her marriage to a man named Othniel, her father gave her/them some land as an inheritance. However this land was in the Negev. The Hebrew word נֶגֶב actually means "dry land" and, because it referred to that semi-desert territory in the south of the country, the word also came to be used to mean "southern land." Even today, the driest parts of the Negev only get an annual rainfall of around 2 inches, with the least dry parts getting only 10 inches of rain annually.

Acsah knew this. So, while she wasn't ungrateful for the piece of land she'd been given, she dared to ask her father for even more. "My land is in a dry place," she said. "Please can you also give me springs of water." And we read that Caleb generously gave her both "upper and lower springs."

I had to smile when I realised the parallel with my own life. Like Acsah, I live in a southern land, a hot and dry region with little annual rainfall. Right at the moment, I'm trusting God to show me the part that will be my "promised land" for the next season. And there's that word again - springs! I'm daring to ask God to help me find accommodation right here in Alhaurín, a place of upper and lower springs. (Several Spanish rivers have their source in Andalucía and there are some waterfalls to be seen in the region.... while Alhaurín itself was historically famous for its underground springs.)

But which scenario is to be mine? Am I to ask for land like Acsah did or am I to embrace having no physical inheritance, like the Levites did?

Finding rental accommodation has proved to be really difficult over the past five weeks - due to the fact that you need to give proof of salary in order to get a rental contract. And so people have encouraged me to pray about whether it's a sign that I need to step out and buy a home, instead of trying to find one to rent.

Buying a home would be an Acsah inheritance. Renting a home would be a Levite inheritance. Either of them would need a miracle of provision. To be honest, there's no "easy option" in the mix. And so today I'm asking the Lord what kind of faith I need to have as I continue my search this month. Do I need to trust for Levite provision or do I need to trust for Acsah provision? Both are dependent on the generosity of my Father God. 

The best Valentine's gift...

Two years ago, my long dreamed-of puppy arrived at my house in mid-February, just in time for Valentine's Day - the best gift ever. This February, I have two border collies in the house, as Ecco is with us for three weeks while his owner is on an overseas trip. (Maiki stays at their house when I have to travel - which has been a real blessing.)

I had fun making a one-minute Valentine's video with the two dogs, who both did a great job as animal actors for the project. Click on the photo above to watch the video in English or on the photo below to watch it in Spanish.

Target 2023

For some years now, we (the dogs and I) have had an annual goal of walking the same number of kilometres as the year. We donate our kilometres to a charity that funds research into multiple sclerosis. 

So, this year's target will be to walk 2023 km. (We usually reach it around August or September, and then set ourselves a new goal of reaching around 3000 km by the end of the year.)

January got off to a slower start than usual - partly because I spent the first week in the UK, and then I had painful shin splints which meant I had to limit how much I walked. So our total is low when compared to last January's 350 km... but 203 is still okay when it comes to being on track for our overall goal of 2023 km this year.

We'll see how we do in February.

All the hill country...

"You are growing old and much land remains to be conquered." Those words leapt from the page at me this morning as I read the first verse of Joshua chapter 13. God is speaking to Joshua, now an old man, about the people's efforts to enter and fully claim their promised land.

I hate to imagine that God might need to say those words to me as I draw near to the end of my life. Whether it refers to ministry tasks He had for me to do, or to character issues like being more patient, less judging, more compassionate or more gentle... I don't want there to be anything left unconquered when it's my time to go.

In the book of Joshua, the unconquered land included "all the hill country." Perhaps the higher land was harder to take possession of; perhaps the enemies living there were stronger and more fearsome than those at the lower levels. Yet God promises, vs 6, that He Himself will drive them all out, if the people just step out to claim the land.

Even so, we read again and again that Israel allowed several enemies to continue living among them. (See chapter 13 vs 13, chapter 15 vs 63, chapter 16 vs 10 and chapter 17 vs 12-13.) Sometimes they tried to make the best of the situation, by making their enemies do forced labour... but the bottom line is that they didn't get rid of them, driving them out as God intended for them to do. They lived their lives with very visible areas of compromise.

It's not an inevitable thing, however, that old age means we need to settle for unconquered land or that entering the hill country will be impossible for us. In Joshua chapter 14, we read about a man named Caleb. Forty years earlier, he and Joshua had been among the spies sent to scout out the promised land. Caleb is now 85 years old, and Joshua was probably around a similar age when Caleb said to him, vs 12, "Now give me the hill country that the Lord promised me... and with God helping me, I will drive out the enemies that live there, just as He said."

I don't feel able to say what Caleb said in vs 11: "I am as strong now as I was then.... I can still travel and fight as well as I could then." No, even though I'm quite a lot younger than Caleb was, I don't feel able to say that I'm as strong now as I was in my forties; I'm already feeling at times that travelling and fighting are more costly for me now than they were back then.

But I think the real key is not that Caleb was strong. It's that he was wholehearted. It's repeated three times - in verses 8, 9 and 14. Whatever Caleb did for God, he did with all of his heart... and growing older was not going to change that.

We can all chose to be wholehearted, no matter how strong or weak we feel physically. And when it comes to taking the hill country, wholeheartedness is what makes all the difference. 

He hears and sees...

So, here we are at the beginning of February and, despite having searched for a whole month now, I still haven't found a new place to live. In fact, as shared in some previous posts on this blog, some doors have been firmly closed to me, which makes me feel as if I've come to a bit of a dead end.

My Bible reading this morning included some verses from the story of a woman named Hagar. I clearly remember, about fourteen years ago now, that it was while reading Genesis 16: 7 that I learned the Spanish word, "manantial" and discovered that it means, "spring." That is what led me to my later discovery that Alhaurín had been known historically as a place of springs.. (as described in this post.)

Hagar is in a bit of a crisis in this chapter of Genesis, having suddenly found herself homeless and also being pregnant at the time.  But it is next to that spring of water that she encounters the Lord and recognises Him as the God who sees her in her time of need. That place became known as Beer-lahai-roi: the well of the living One who sees me. And the son she later gave birth to was named Ishmael - which means "God hears." Hagar was not a Hebrew by birth, but her meeting with God convinced her that He is the God who sees and hears us in all situations.

So, in my own place of springs, this morning I chose to trust and proclaim that God sees and hears me. He knows my situation and He is preparing a way forward for me.

Several people have recently felt prompted to give me Exodus 14: 14, which says, "The Lord will fight for you. You only need to be still." That's all very well, but surely I can't literally be still and do nothing. I have to be responsible in doing my part to look for a new home. Perhaps a better translation is what it says in my NLT version of the Bible: "The Lord will fight for you. Just stay calm."

And so my prayer this morning was, "Lord, I choose to stay calm and trust you. Please also make me alert to anything you're asking me to do... like when you asked those Israelites (Exodus 14:15) to move on towards the Red Sea. 

Yes, they were moving on towards an impossibility... but God already knew what He was going to do about that.