I’ve finally found myself on the other side of the Torah.
For the last five months, I’ve been slowly making my way through Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Not rushing through them. Not simply checking off chapters on a reading plan. I’ve been sitting in them, dissecting them, wrestling with them, and allowing them to challenge me in ways I didn’t expect. There is something powerful about slowing down long enough to see the story beneath the story.
And now, here I am.
On the edge of Joshua.
On the edge of the Promised Land.
In more ways than one.
Over the last few days, I’ve been unpacking the book of Joshua, and today I found myself in Joshua 3, focuses specifically on the crossing of the Jordan River. It’s a passage I’ve read before but sometimes Scripture waits until you’re standing in a similar season before it reveals something you’ve never seen. As I was reading, I couldn’t shake the connection between Joshua 3 and Exodus 14. In Exodus, God parts the Red Sea as Israel leaves Egypt. In Joshua, God parts the Jordan River as Israel enters the Promised Land. Same God. Same miracle. Different purpose.
The Red Sea was about getting Israel out of slavery. The Jordan was about getting slavery out of Israel.
One miracle broke chains. The other broke cycles. And that’s the part for me.
Because if you’ve followed Jesus for any length of time, you know there is a difference between being delivered and being transformed. There is a difference between leaving Egypt and learning how to live like someone who has. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that most of us love talking about our Red Sea moments. We celebrate the prayers God answered, the addictions He broke, the relationships He restored, and the situations He rescued us from. We should celebrate those moments. They remind us that God is still a Deliverer.
But God didn’t bring Israel out of Egypt just to wander around in circles forever. The goal was never simply freedom from bondage. The goal was always inheritance.
- Egypt represented slavery.
- The wilderness represented transformation.
- The Jordan represented trust.
- The Promised Land represented covenant promise.
Every stage mattered. Every stage served a purpose. God wasn’t just changing their location; He was changing their identity. What struck me in Joshua 3 is that the Jordan wasn’t calm when they arrived. Scripture tells us it was at flood stage.
Not ankle-deep.
Not manageable.
Not convenient.
Flood stage.
God could have waited for better conditions. He could have brought them there during a season when crossing felt reasonable. Instead, He intentionally led them to an impossible obstacle.
Why?
Because God wanted them to understand that what He had promised could never be obtained through human effort alone. The Promised Land would not be entered because they were strong enough, smart enough, or prepared enough. It would be entered because God made a way.
Then I noticed something else.
At the Red Sea, the water moved before the people did.
At the Jordan, the people moved before the water did.
Stay with me!
In Exodus, Moses stretched out his staff and the sea parted before anyone took a step. In Joshua, the priests carrying the Ark had to put their feet into the rushing water before the river stopped flowing. The miracle didn’t happen while they stood safely on the shore. The miracle happened when they stepped forward. And honestly, that feels a lot like spiritual maturity.
Sometimes God parts the water before we move. Sometimes God asks us to move before the water parts. Neither is more miraculous than the other. Neither is more spiritual than the other. Both reveal something beautiful about the character of God. One teaches us that God can rescue us. The other teaches us that God can be trusted.
I think many of us spend so much time celebrating the bondage God broke that we forget He is also trying to break cycles. We remember our Red Sea stories because they are dramatic and obvious. We can point to them and say, “Look what God did.” But Jordan crossings are different. Jordan crossings require faith before evidence. Obedience before understanding. Movement before certainty. And if I’m honest, those crossings can be harder. As I sit here reading Joshua 3 on the other side of five months in the Torah, standing on the edge of some promises God is unfolding in my own life, I can’t help but wonder if that’s why this passage feels so personal right now.
Maybe God isn’t just interested in bringing us out.
Maybe He’s equally committed to bringing us in.
Maybe the greatest miracle isn’t always deliverance.
Maybe sometimes the greatest miracle is trust.
We tend to focus on the bondage portion of our faith walk and forget that God is also trying to break cycles. We celebrate the Red Sea moments and downplay the Jordan crossings because the sea moved before they stepped in, but they had to step in before the Jordan moved.
Both are significant.
Both are needed.
Both reveal the faithfulness of God.
Maturity sees both, recognizes both, and embraces both. Because the same God who brought you out is the God who will bring you in. And for me? That’s the part.
x Chari