Three and four generations of family and friends, fellow believers, a caravan, like Jacob, his sons, and their families, we are on a journey. Egypt is but a stopover, not the Promised Land. Keep us faithful, journeying through this wilderness to the Promised Land!
Sometimes we fuss and feud over trails, campsites, even firewood. But, we are headed in the same direction, mostly. Lord, bless the strugglers and the wanderers and the quitters!
There are daily foraging tasks and water carrying. Sometimes kids get to throwing apples or berries. Worse, occasionally the water trips turn into skinny-dipping mistakes.
There have been a few that went off on foraging assignments, and they kept on going, collecting barrels of food that they just keep rolling along, but not sharing. They just wandered away, and forgot about the journey. We hear from them; they write notes to us, rarely, but they are going a different direction. Really, they have just squatted in the wilderness. What can be done? They have lost sight of the destination towards which we journey. No amount of urging or waving goodbye seems to help.
A few have gotten so busy playing at waterholes, that they refuse to move on, when we break camp to continue on the journey. They were last seen splashing around and lounging on the sandy banks. We had to stay focused and moved on. We called and pleaded, to no good results. But, rarely a swimmer walks up from behind us on our trail. That is such a joyful day!
We need daily bread, and cups of cold water, for sure. But, the journey must be kept in the forefront of our life?! Sidetrails lead nowhere good. As we sit around the campfires, looking up into the night sky, gazing at the stars, awed at the rare shooting star, we sing songs about the journey. Lord, tune our hearts to sing your praise! And, Lord, bless the strugglers and the wanderers and the quitters!
"Here we are but straying pilgrims ..."
Here we are but straying pilgrims;
Here our path is often dim;
But to cheer us on our journey,
Still we sing this wayside hymn:
Here our path is often dim;
But to cheer us on our journey,
Still we sing this wayside hymn:
Refrain
Yonder over the rolling river,
Where the shining mansions rise,
Soon will be our home for ever,
And the smile of the blessèd Giver
Gladdens all our longing eyes.
Where the shining mansions rise,
Soon will be our home for ever,
And the smile of the blessèd Giver
Gladdens all our longing eyes.
Here our feet are often weary
On the hills that throng our way;
Here the tempest darkly gathers,
But our hearts within us say:
On the hills that throng our way;
Here the tempest darkly gathers,
But our hearts within us say:
Refrain
Here our souls are often fearful
Of the pilgrim’s lurking foe;
But the Lord is our defender,
And He tells us we may know:
Of the pilgrim’s lurking foe;
But the Lord is our defender,
And He tells us we may know:
Refrain
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