Recently I wrote Beth Moore a letter. In it I said, “I’m not baptist, but I think an ‘ooh glory’ slipped out of my mouth at one point.” It happens.
My hair is braided so I feel more in touch with my baptist sisters. Ask my friend, Hannah. I said “ooh glory” and “aks” to her both in one day. She’s not baptist- she’s a wonderful shade of Carmel Mocha that I can’t achieve if I try, but God has blessed her with beauty. He blessed me with the jokes. We each have something.
I’m reading through Joshua 7 this morning. He’s just instructed the Israelites through yet another insane only God could do this miracle. God said march around this city. Yell stuff. Blow a horn. Watch. I’ll make it fall down. And that’s just what happened. Right after that, one of the guys in the camp stole from the people’s treasury. He coveted and stole a rainbow robe and some jewelry. He took a bar of gold and some silver.
Joshua. This guy. Am I right? Every time I read his story, this great great great great and on grandpa of mine, I find myself sighing so heavily and then an “ooh glory” slips out.
Joshua figured something was wrong when he began losing what should have been an easy win. 36 of his men dead. He fell to his knees in prayer all day. Not some of it. All day. “Ah, Sovereign Lord…” He cried out.
He asked for direction. He sought truth. “Why did you even bring us here!?” This last part was too far.
At the bottom of it, Israel had sinned. Then they complained and blamed God. I do this. Ooh glory do I do this.
In the Greek translation “ooh glory” can mean “God, please get the glory for my stupidity, complaining, and terrible choices. Work these things together for your glory.
Sorry I was lame. Again. And then complained to you about my natural consequences. Again. And sorry I doubted that you are able to AGAIN get me past this. Again.
Sorry I ask you things and then ignore your words like you’re my dad and I’m about to turn 18 and feel like I just need to try it. And thanks for sticking with me as I climb through those consequences. Oh and thanks for letting me question you without being offended. And for free will and my own thoughts. But thanks for always always saving a spot for me right snuggled next to your lap. I see where I fit. I see where you’ve saved a seat for me. Just. Thanks.”
It’s a loose translation. It’s like duct tape on my Rainboots.