A year ago this week, we were piling our worldly possessions into a moving truck to cross 5 states and move to Texas. We had no idea what Texas was like, but we knew we were moving there. We didn’t know any Texans, but we knew we could meet some.

Joshua 3:17 was our rock of comfort. Israel was nervous. They were crossing into the Promised Land after 40 years of wandering, knowing that strong enemies were likely waiting for them. A new land. It’s scary. We were only moving five people. They were moving thousands. God doesn’t just send them swimming. He doesn’t have them construct boats. He goes before them. He plans ahead and provides before their very eyes. The Ark of the Covenant passed into the middle of the Jordan river “while all Israel crossed on dry ground” as the slimy, rockbed turned into firm, dry ground. With each provision we would cheer, “Dry ground!”

For years we have moved. Migrants. Nomads. Seventeen times in fifteen years. You’d think we would get better at it! Texas is yet another culture for us. We’ve spent decades on the West Coast. We’ve spent years in Kenya and Congo and France, Kent even knows China, but Texas? And it’s not different just because people say “all y’all” or “fixin to”, it’s how people drift across freeway lanes like they’re ice skating in circles around you. Blinkers? Nope. It’s how there is an understood but invisible social network. It’s how you have to water a house’s foundation and drive 10 over the speed limit. It’s how 100 degrees for months on end is normal, and the plants that thrive are all foreign to us. It’s all new.

But He goes before us.
And made us to walk across on dry ground!