Our granddaughter peeked from behind ‘the wall’ as she awaited her part of the drama that was being reenacted in our living room.
The walls of Jericho were about to come down.
In the days leading up to this past Christmas, her mother had been telling the exceptional stories of biblical history that would lead to the greatest story of all.
Her daughter listened intently, breathless with anticipation, as her mother read with great expression, and stomped with her feet as if to recreate the scene: marching and marching and marching.
No sound except for the occasional clinking of armor, no movement except for the stomping feet that created the puffs of dust, feet that carried the marchers round, and round, and round the great city of Jericho.
Life seems like that at times.
Round and round, and round again we go. Stumbling sometimes, mumbling often, thinking even more often perhaps about the futility of it all.
Alone in a sea of people going round and round.
Is there really any purpose to our existence? Does what we do today matter tomorrow? Are we doomed to live out our lives as if going in circles, no purpose, no passion, no love?
It was Bill Wilson in his book “Whose Child Is This?” who wrote, “when you don’t know what to do, do what you know to do.”
Put one foot in front of the other.