THERE ARE SOME RIVERS IN LIFE WE SIMPLY CANNOT CROSS BY OURSELVES.

Israel knew something about that.

They stood on the banks of the Jordan River at the worst possible time. Joshua 3 tells us that the Jordan was overflowing its banks. Humanly speaking, this was not the time to cross.

But God had brought them there.

And sometimes that is the part we struggle to understand.

Why would God lead me to a river I cannot cross?

Maybe you are standing before one today:

Your Jordan may be financial.

It may be a broken relationship.

It may be grief.

It may be uncertainty about tomorrow.

It may simply be a situation for which you have prayed and prayed… and still cannot see a way through.

You look at what is before you and think, Lord, I cannot cross this.

Perhaps that is precisely the point.

God never intended Israel to conquer the Jordan. He intended them to trust Him to make a way through it.

And notice what happened.

The priests carrying the Ark stepped toward the overflowing river. Their feet touched the water… and God stopped the river.

Then an entire nation walked across on dry ground.

Not muddy ground.

Not barely passable ground.

Dry ground.

Why? Joshua tells us:

“…that you may know that the living God is among you” (Joshua 3:10).

Oh, my friend, your Jordan is not evidence that God has abandoned you. It may become the very place where you discover just how present He really is.

I do not know what river stands between you and tomorrow.

But I know this:

The God who stood with Israel at the Jordan is still the living God.

When there seems to be no way forward, He is able to make one.

When your strength is exhausted, His is not.

When fear tells you to retreat, faith says, “Put your feet in the water.”

And perhaps these words are especially personal for me today.

On August 23, I will make a “crossover” of a different kind.

God willing, I will once again leave home and cross the ocean for nearly two months of ministry in Uganda.

I know something of what awaits me there… long roads, remote villages, pastors hungry to be taught the Word of God, people who need to hear the Gospel, and opportunities to make disciples who will make disciples.

But there are also things I cannot see.

There always are.

And so, in a very real sense, I too am standing at the edge of my Jordan.

At 79, I am increasingly aware that every journey must be taken in the strength God supplies. I cannot presume upon tomorrow. I cannot manufacture the strength I will need for the assignment.

I can only put my feet in the water and trust the living God to meet me there.

Perhaps that is what “crossover faith” really looks like:

It is not having every question answered before we go.

It is not knowing exactly how deep the water is.

It is simply believing that if God has called us to the other side, He will be faithful in the crossing.

So this coming Sunday, I will shoulder my bags once again, say goodbye to my wife whom I love, board an airplane, and head toward Uganda.

Not because the waters are always calm.

Not because the journey is easy.

But because the living God is among us.

And somewhere reading these words, you may be standing before your own Jordan.

Yours may look nothing like mine.

But the invitation is the same:

Put your feet in the water.

The God who calls us forward is already there.

We shall cross over.

We shall prevail.

And when we reach the other side, to God alone be the glory.

FOREVER ON ASSIGNMENT