There are some lyrics we all especially treasure, certain lines that settle in especially near to our hearts. Personally, I often find myself pondering the words that begin CityAlight’s “In the Valley (Bless the Lord).” “When the path that I feared / Is the way He has set / And I long to give in and retreat.” While admitting I may be biased since CityAlight wrote the song to accompany my book Seasons of Sorrow, I believe the words describe an experience that every Christian knows.
At certain times each of us finds that God is leading us down the path we had dreaded, the path we had feared, the path we would never have chosen for ourselves. And in those moments—moments of looming grief, moments of looming poverty, moments of looming relational brokenness—we often long to give in and retreat, to turn from God in despair, disobedience, or disbelief. Few things are more intimidating than being led where we have not gone before and where our hearts may fear to go.
In such moments, I find there is comfort to be had in pondering God’s care for his people Israel, and especially considering the time they were called by God to go in a way they had never gone before—to stop their wandering and cross the Jordan, to exit the wilderness and enter the Promised Land. They were to leave behind the well-known patterns of the wilderness and do something new, something intimidating. Though God told them the final outcome would be good, they must have still feared the process and wondered if God was actually trustworthy and reliable.
It is good to consider then, that when God called them to cross the Jordan, he led the way. The first move was not by the people but by God—God in the hands of his representatives, the priests. The priests initiated the crossing when they picked up the ark of the covenant and walked with it into the river. Before the people went into the river, God went into the river. This means that God’s first and greatest provision in their time of uncertainty was himself. He not only commanded them but he also accompanied them. Israel was never alone in their time of anxiety and uncertainty. And similarly, we are never alone when we go through times of hardship. Whatever God calls us to do, we can be certain that he will accompany us—that he will never leave us nor forsake us.
I have been comforted also when I consider that God meant for his people to fix their eyes and hearts on him instead of the obstacle that lay before them. When God’s people walked toward the river, when they were in the middle river, and when they came toward the far bank and perhaps considered fleeing back to the familiar wilderness, they could always look to the ark and see God’s presence with them. They could simply look and believe—they could choose in that moment to exercise their faith and trust in God.
And don’t you know the temptation to have your mind consumed with thoughts of your difficulty, your sorrow, or your heartbreak instead of thoughts of God? The more you stare at the river, the more it will seem to grow wide and fast and fierce. But the more you focus on God and the more you ponder who he is, what he has done, and the promises he has made, the more you will know that he is the one who rules over the river. God isn’t merely sovereign in your salvation but sovereign in your every circumstance. When you are in that time of difficulty, that time of uncertainty, look to God, remember his promises, and he will keep your heart steady and true.
The hope of “In the Valley” and the hope of Israel crossing the Jordan is that God always remains present with us. The confidence we have when we are being led in a way we have not gone before and a way we do not wish to go is that the God who leads us is the God who accompanies us. This God is always before us, always beside us, and always behind us, this God is always present, always sovereign, and always so very good.
