So Where’s My Promised Land?

(Deuteronomy 8)

The  Promised Land.

Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops.

Somewhere over the rainbow . . .

Yet, as Moses and his people train their eyes on the opposite riverbank, he points to a real place.

Not over the rainbow.

But over the Jordan.

That, he declares, is The Promised Land.

with streams of water flowing in both valleys and hills; 

of wheat, barley, vines, figs, and pomegranates;

of olive oil and honey; 

whose rocks are iron and from whose hills you will mine copper. 

(Deuteronomy 8:7-9 HCSB)

It’s been a hard 40 years in the wilderness. Full of missteps, failures, and learning curves. 

Moses, intimately acquainted with these people’s shortcomings, preaches a series of riverbank sermons which make up the book of Deuteronomy.

Again and again he stresses that to experience The Promised Land, they are going to need to stay connected to God.

And love Him with their entire beings.

Otherwise, the land across the Jordan will be, well . . . just another land.

This whole Promised Land picture just won’t let me go.

Was it only for them?

In just that physical land?

Or is it heaven, a state of being, a state of mind . . . something else?

Where’s my Promised Land?

And yours?

Despite a few lingering tropical storm bands in the sky, I head to the beach.

Sometimes I chat with Ron’s ashes I scattered in the sand there by the jetty.

Today, though, I decide to walk out to the end of the jetty.

The weather is a lot wilder up there than I figured.

The wind whips my hair into a new do.

And throws sea spray up and across the walkway.

On both sides.

Leaning into the wind, I press on.

Toward the only other person braving such a day.

A fisherman.

Line cast into the sea.

“Been out here all day,” he smiles.

I continue making my way to the end.

Where four daredevils come in off the rocks that extend beyond the paved walkway.

Where you’re not supposed to go.

“Got some great selfies!” they exclaim.

Below, a walker reaches the jetty, pivots, and walks away. Never even looking up. 

Now two pictures won’t let me go.

They feel connected.

The Promised Land . . . and this whole jetty scene.

The sea, the daredevils, the walker, and the fisherman.

What would Moses say?

I picture him up on the jetty, beard whipping in the wind.

And I think he might exclaim, 

“Don’t you see it? This is exactly what I’ve been talking about!”

At last I do see it.

The analogy.

The majestic, powerful, bountiful sea.

And the people who arrive there.

A walker taking no notice.

Daredevils snapping pictures of themselves.

And the fisherman . . .

Line in the water.

Connected to the sea.

To its majesty, power, and bounty.

In love with everything about it.

Regardless of the weather.

A modern-day-jetty picture of what living in The Promised Land looks like.

Staying connected to God.

Loving Him.

And being loved by Him.

Wherever we are.

This week an interstate billboard catches my attention.

The place you are looking for is the place where you are . . .

I can almost see Moses pumping his fist.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

See you in a couple weeks.

Love,