ALTARS OF REMEMBRANCE WORDS: KMY DENTON
A few weeks ago, I found myself alone in our home, only hours away from handing the keys to the realtor that night. We’d sold our family home, and I wanted to leave the house really tidy for the new owners — like a welcome present to them. As I tried to decide where to begin the deepclean, I turned on some worship music so I could worship one last time in this home that meant so much to me — cover it in prayer before the new family moved in. With each wiping of the wall and cleaning of the trim, I began to recount times spent with my family and the faithfulness of God in our lives. I remembered all the ‘firsts’ and special moments — like when we first brought my daughter home from the hospital in 2020 just before the pandemic hit. Her birth was incredibly redemptive for me, as I had struggled with post-natal depression after the birth of my son a few years earlier, and I worried that I might experience the same with her. When anxiety came creeping back mid-2020, along with fear for my daughter’s health, I didn’t know what else to do but sing worship over her. I’d weep as I held her and wait for God to show up in the dark. Night after night, He met me there in the tears and in the anxiety. He never let me go. Slowly, He undid the knots inside of me. As
I cleaned that Saturday night, I remembered His goodness to me. In the remembering, I was reminded of the Old Testament where God would tell His people to build stone memorials, or altars of remembrance, to permanently mark a place where He had manifested His covenant with them. Chapter three in the Book of Joshua is an introduction to one of these exact moments when Joshua led the Israelites to cross the Jordan River — the very descendants of those who had crossed the Red Sea with Moses. The Lord instructed Joshua that the Ark of the Covenant was to go first into the water, as the Levitical priests carried it, and everyone else was to follow behind. I love that the presence of God went before them — into flooding waters and uncontrollable chaos — and they crossed through on dry ground as they followed His presence. In Joshua 4, we learn that the Lord told Joshua to choose twelve men — one from every tribe. They were to take up twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan where the priests stood with the Ark, and put them down at the place where they’d stay that night. In verses 21 to 24 Joshua says, “In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over. The Lord your God did to the Jordan what he had done to the Red Sea when he
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dried it up before us until we had crossed over. He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that you might always fear the Lord your God” (New International Version, Joshua 4:21-24). As I sat on the floor of my home, I realised this moment was an altar of remembrance for me. The carpet that had held tears of despair now held tears of gratitude, and though I wiped away each little handprint and smudge from the walls, the fingerprints of God had left an indelible mark on our lives. It’s a testament that I will carry with me to tell the generations of the goodness and faithfulness of God. I wonder what Red Sea or Jordan River you might be facing? Allow the presence of God to go before you, invite Him into the centre of it with you, and when He leads you through to the other side, stop and remember His goodness. Let it forge in you an altar of remembrance and lifelong testament to the goodness of God.
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