We know the feeling of standing on the edge. The next step matters, but nothing feels settled. We want movement, but we also want certainty. We want God to act, preferably in ways that make sense to us. Most weeks feel like that. We carry quiet fear. We manage our image. We wait for something to break our way. Maybe it’s 2 a.m. at the Waffle House. The coffee’s cooling. Someone’s waiting for news, praying that something will give way.
Joshua 2 opens in that same tension. Israel has crossed the Jordan, but Jericho still stands. The road into the land runs straight through it. Joshua sends two spies. No fanfare, no speeches, only movement. They enter the city and end up in Rahab’s house, a place where strangers pass through and trouble finds its way inside.
Rahab knows more than Israel does. She has heard the stories: the sea, the kings east of the Jordan. She speaks with clarity that cuts through the noise. “I know that the Lord has given you the land” (Joshua 2.9). The land already knows its future. Israel is still learning to trust it.
Rahab’s faith refuses to stay hidden. She hides the spies. She turns away the king’s men. She asks for mercy for her family. She binds herself to the God of Israel. A scarlet cord hangs in the window, marking a boundary where judgment will pass and mercy will remain.
The spies escape and wait in the hills. Three days of silence. Three days of nothing to do but trust. Faith always leaves space for waiting. When they return, their report is short. They do not measure walls. They speak of hearts melting (Joshua 2.24). God has already gone ahead.
Before Jericho falls, God slows everything down. Stones are stacked as witnesses. Identity is renewed. Manna stops. Israel eats food grown in the land. Joshua 4 through 5 refuse to hurry the story. In every generation, the pattern holds: God forms trust in hidden places before he acts in visible ones.
Then Joshua meets a man with a drawn sword. Joshua asks the question we always ask. “Are you for us or for our enemies?” The answer unsettles him. “No.” God does not join our side. We are called to join his. Only after surrender does obedience make sense.
Jericho falls through obedience that looks foolish. Walking. Silence. Waiting. Trumpets. Joshua 6. Rahab lives. The scarlet cord is still there. Faith leaves a visible trace.
Jericho becomes a pattern. Rahab shows up again in Hebrews 11 and James 2. Her faith acts. Her trust costs her something. Later, Jesus walks through Jericho and calls Zacchaeus down from a tree (Luke 19). Salvation enters another house. Another outsider. Another table reshaped by grace.
Meanwhile, at the Waffle House, faith shows itself in small, costly choices. Not when everything is resolved, but when obedience feels exposed and trust feels thin. Christ still meets us in places like that. He goes ahead of us. He marks mercy clearly. He asks us to walk.
This week, you might not see the walls fall. You might only see the next step. Take it anyway. Trust that God has already gone ahead. God still teaches his people to trust him before the walls come down.
~PW 🌮🛶
Phillip W. Martin 
Leave a comment