“So Joshua called together the twelve men he had appointed from the Israelites, one from each tribe, and said to them, ‘Go over before the ark of the LORD your God into the middle of the Jordan. Each of you is to take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of Israelites, to serve as a sign among you. In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before they ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever.’” (Joshua 4:4-8).
I gathered a stone tonight. The dry river bed that once boasted the flood waters of another season’s living hosted my night’s walk. I will carry this stone of remembrance with me for the rest of my days as a memorial to a year well spent within the classroom walls of school named Trenton, within a grade named third, within the lives of twenty-one pupils named mine.
It wasn’t hard to love them, but it was hard to teach them, for I wearied long and tired on their behalf. Nighttimes were rarely my time because nighttimes were spent in preparation for the daytime to follow. My constant? Early to rise…late to bed with little rest in between. I breathed my job, and as quickly as the calendared thirty-six weeks arrived, they departed, but not without leaving an indelible impression upon my heart. When those buses drove off the lot on that last day of school, many teachers sighed their relief. I wept my sadness. No, it wasn’t hard to love the twenty-one, but it sure was hard to leave them.
My weary doing had marked me forever. We laid some stones that year. Made some memories and climbed some hurdles. These kids didn’t grow up like I did. They lived and breathed an existence that ended at the county line. Their world was small, and the bigness of mine entreated the dreams of their tomorrows. We crammed a lot of living into the nine months that we shared. And when, in the future, they wander back to remember their twelve years of classroom learning, I would be lying if I didn’t hope that my name would come up from time to time.
The gathering and the building of stones. That is what tonight was about…for them and for me. Some memories are worth our monuments, and these young adult men and women will always stand as one of mine.
Raising faith includes the building of such memorials. Taking the time to carve and to collect occasions as sacred, is a holy habit that God instilled within his children from the very beginning. He knew that they…that we…are prone to our forgetting. We pilgrim through life, sometimes with little awareness of God, until we reach a river’s edge that requires his participation. Steps forged in plenty and in peace rarely take the time to reflect on seasons past when God’s faithfulness superseded our doubt—when God stacked the flood ravaged waters so that we could pass through on dry ground.
We forget to remember. And when a crossing of the Jordan becomes our required portion, if the stones of our past remain ungathered—unmarked and uncherished—then faith has little anchor for the waters ahead. Thus, God commissions us to gather a few stones along the way.
To carry them within our hearts and to document them with our hands. To write them with our words and to capture them with our cameras. To shower them with our gifts and to wrap them with our hugs. To engage them with our time and to honor them with our commitment. To consecrate them with our laughter and to baptize them with our tears. To hold them with our tender and to remember them with our pause. To pick them up when the picking is good and to place them in our pockets as stones of remembrance for a season yet to come.
Life is hard, and rivers run swift. Rarely is a river’s bank the place of our constant abiding. Sooner or later, a walk through the water’s pulsing is required. It is in those times of testing when our gathered stones mean the most. When we can reach deep within our pockets to touch the past faithfulness of our God and to remember that a stone’s gathering awaits us on the other side of our obedience.
God never leads us through the Jordan without providing a few stones worthy of our collecting. Ten years ago, God allowed some raging waters to roll through our lives in Trenton—some literal waters named Hurricane Floyd and some darker, spiritual waters named trying and testing. It was a hard embrace and harder still, was the obedience to sow some sacred seed within its consuming rage. But just this night, I was given the privilege of tasting the fruit of some of those seeds. Seven of them to be exact.
And as soon as the tassels were turned, I made my way onto the riverbed that usually hosts football to gather a few more stones for the road ahead. Stones named Taimak, Lashonda, Allison, Amanda, Morris, Damien, and Argustus. These precious graduates are the rocks in my pocket this evening. I touch them with my hands, and through my tears, I build them as a monument of remembrance—of realizing that all was not lost in that season of hard. That the tears sown in my difficult have reaped a moment that softens its scars.
If faith is to be raised, then stones must be gathered. We will never leave a river’s walk without a trophy or two to carry home.
Home to our now. Home to our forever, when at last we lay our trophies at his feet…a monument for all eternity to the One who is faithful. To the One who is worthy. To the One whose stone is worthy of my pocket for always. And so I pray…
Make me a stone gatherer, Lord. Never let my hard obedience and your faithfulness to me in that hard, go unnoticed. Instead, pause my heart to sow some seed and to build some monuments that breathe the witness of your presence within the process. I thank you for my Trenton years, for they have given me some precious stones of remembrance for the journey ahead. With each touch and with every glance of their beauty, I will recall your faithfulness to me in that season and will finally make peace with my past. You are faithful, Lord. Yesterday. Today. Always. You are my remembered Peace. Humbly and with a grateful heart, I find my rest within the shadow of your Monument this night. Amen.
I’m so glad that you continue to take this walk with me through the Raising of my faith and the raising of faith of those under my influence. Today’s focus was embracing the stones of remembrance that come to us in our walk of faith. What are some of the stones that God has given you along the way? As always, I welcome your thoughts and prayers. I hope to post a last a final word on Raising Faith sometime this weekend. May God bless the reading of these words as only he can. Thank you for your faithful participation. Shalom!
Loved the post….loved the pictures! Only God knows what kind of harvest will be reaped from the seeds you have sown in the lives of these precious young people!
God bless you my friend!
Marilyn
This was beautiful! I love, love, love your writing style. It flows with eloquence. Thank you for stopping by the flock today!
I think that puts you right where God wants you. 😉
Hugs!
I think it was great that you attended graduation with those used to be 3rd graders of yours. You may never know the impact you may of had on all of them or maybe just one. You coming to their graduation further assured them how much you care even now some 9 years later. I had one of my teachers who has taught for more than 30 years just retire and she still remembers me and I remember her. Treasure those memories! They are priceless.
“We forget to remember. And when a crossing of the Jordan becomes our required portion, if the stones of our past remain ungathered—unmarked and uncherished—then faith has little anchor for the waters ahead. Thus, God commissions us to gather a few stones along the way.”
I’m a “stone gatherer”. I have the word “REMEMBER” sitting on a window seat in my “prayer room”. I also have an “Answered Prayer Jar” will slips of paper recording God’s faithfulness to our family.
I embrace my “stones” and pray for many more along the path.
Blessings,
Joy
I agree with Carol, your writing flows with eloquence. And I’m really enjoying the show of pictures. It adds so much.
Your sentence, “We forget to remember” How true! Reading your post brought to memory our work with young people that I haven’t thought about in who knows how long.
As I continued to read, I thought about a teen that was a real trial to me when Curtis and I were working with teenagers. And wouldn’t you know, he was the one that became a preacher and we had the privilege of hearing him preach. Outstanding young man. And we also got to visit and laugh about some of the times when he was a teen.
“Embracing Your Imperfections” was painful to read because I certainly did identify. I,too, have found forgiveness but sometimes things come to mind and the regrets are still painful.
Mary
You brought a tear to my eye and cause me to remember some of our Jordan’s.
Elaine, this was just incredible. Your students were so blessed to have YOU as their teacher. I’m certain they will remember the seeds you planted in their lives forever.
One of our Jordan’s was relocating to Baltimore, MD. Little did we know God would summon my husband out of his promising career to pioneer a church back home.
We even named our 4th son who I gave birth while we were there Jordan. For that very reason…
16 years later we would cross that river again with our Jordan into the world of childhood cancer.
God has been so faithful through it all.
“It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone.”
Ephesians 1:11 The Message
Thanks Elaine, I will remember♥
Thank you for sharing this, it reminds me of what my husband carries in his pocket every day..
He carries two small rocks that one of our daughters and our grandson gave him and the shell casing from when they did the 21 gun salute, when we buried his father… The giving tokens that he will carry every day of his life… Thank you and you are in my prayers…
Connie
GBU
I read this post earlier this evening and went to bed with it on my mind. Couldn’t sleep; had to get back up to reread part of it! Many years ago God called me to step out into the unknown, calling me to go to college at the age of 35 and to eventually work with high school kids as a teacher, then a counselor, then an assistant principal. Sometimes my path crossed a child who profoundly affected my life. Isn’t it funny that I went into the profession thinking I would be a blessing to many children when in fact, I came away blessed.
I believe Psalm 45:1 describes you beautifully.
This series has been amazing thus far…you write with such passion and purpose. Two things I admire deeply.
What a beautiful post. Your full heart was certainly evident in every word. What a gift you were to those kids, and what a gift they were to you.
I was thinking about some of our stones, the most profound of which God gave to us when we surrendered Brennan for the first summer he traveled with the Academy of Arts. He was only 15 at the time, and it proved to be the hardest summer of our lives. Our house was excrutiatingly silent as there were no other kids clammoring for our attention. The three of us did everything together so there was nothing that didn’t remind us of his absence.
We soon decided that money set aside to finish a portion of our basement would be better spent traveling on weekends to see Brennan and his team performing. Not only did it make the weeks in between bearable, God began to form a bond between us and the other kids on Brennan’s team that was so strong and remains that way to this day. We embraced them, and they embraced us. Rather than being the parents of an only child, we became the adopted parents of nine. Subsequent summers (with much less travel on our part) have brought about the same incredible blessings and bonds. It’s amazing when we consider how different our life (and Brennan’s life) would be, had we never begun letting him go that year. God used each subsequent summer to ease us a little farther into the process. By the time he left for Asbury, we and Brennan were well prepared.
Now that my nephew is traveling for the first time this summer, God is giving me the opportunity to encourage my sister in this now shared journey.
Too often I “forget to remember,” so thank you for reminding me of these stones today by sharing your own remembrance. What a beautiful memorial. (Those photos are precious!)
Blessings & prayers,
Tracy
Great message…
I was reminded by someone just this week that the little things we do and years later don’t even remember….can make a major impact on someones life.
Blessings~
I can’t wait to read your book! Your blogs are so inspiring and spiritually uplifting! God Bless You!
Sincerely,
Kennisha
It is amazing that many times while we are busy pouring out ourselves for the sake of others we don’t even recognize what we have taken away till later.
I have spent some time this week picking up rocks…..and I am writing the lessons down so that I will not forget what the trip was about.
Good post…I loved the pictures.
How cool of God to let you see the graduation of these kids.
What a memorable occasion! How cool to see the fruits of your endeavors…