Somewhere in your home, there may be an old shoebox or cardboard box filled with things that would seem insignificant to anyone else. Perhaps it contains a birthday card from someone you loved, an old photograph, a graduation tassel, a ticket stub from a memorable event, or a newspaper clipping marking an important moment in your life.
Objectively, these things may not be worth much. You probably couldn't sell them for much at a garage sale. But you wouldn't dream of getting rid of them. They mean too much.
Why? Because they tell a story. They remind you of where you've been, the people who have influenced you, the experiences that have shaped you, and the moments you never want to forget.
We understand the importance of remembering. That's why communities erect monuments, nations establish memorials, and families preserve photographs and heirlooms. We know that some things are too important to allow time to erase them.
But there's something worth considering: Remembering the past is not simply about preserving what happened yesterday. It's about allowing what happened yesterday to shape how we live tomorrow.
That truth is especially important when it comes to our faith.
In Joshua 4, we find an interesting moment in the story of Israel's journey from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
The journey had been long and difficult. An entire generation had passed away in the wilderness. Moses, the leader who had brought them out of Egypt, had died, and Joshua had assumed leadership. Now, after decades of wandering, the Israelites had finally reached the Jordan River.
There was just one problem: the river was at flood stage.
Yet God instructed Joshua to lead the people across. Miraculously, the waters stopped flowing, and the Israelites crossed on dry ground.
It was an extraordinary event. But what God instructed the people to do next is just as significant.
He told Joshua to select twelve men, one from each tribe, and have each man take a stone from the riverbed. The stones were to be carried to the place where the Israelites would camp and assembled as a lasting reminder of what God had done.
Why?
So that future generations would see those stones and ask what they meant. And when their children asked, the Israelites would have an opportunity to tell the story of God's faithfulness.
The stones were more than a monument to an extraordinary event. They were a teaching tool, a testimony, and a reminder that the God who had brought them that far could be trusted to lead them forward.
The Israelites were not supposed to forget what God had done.
Neither should we.
One of the challenges of the Christian life is that we can be remarkably forgetful.
We remember our problems more easily than God's past provision. We remember the obstacles in front of us more readily than the obstacles he has helped us overcome. And when we face a new challenge, we sometimes behave as though God has never done anything for us before.
That's one reason remembering matters.
When David faced Goliath, he drew courage from previous experiences in which God had helped him protect his father's sheep from a lion and a bear. Those experiences didn't eliminate the danger he faced, but they reminded him that the giant in front of him wasn't bigger than the God who had helped him in the past.
Our memories can serve the same purpose.
Perhaps you can remember a season when you weren't sure how you would make ends meet, but somehow you made it through. Maybe you faced a frightening diagnosis, a painful loss, or a season of uncertainty when the future seemed impossibly unclear. Perhaps you can recall a time when you felt completely inadequate for a responsibility but discovered strength and wisdom you didn't know you possessed.
Those experiences don't guarantee that the next challenge will be easy. They don't mean God will always answer our prayers in the way we hope. But they can remind us of something important: we have reasons to trust him.
The God who has been faithful in the past is worthy of our trust in the present.
Remembering God's faithfulness is not an exercise in wishful thinking. It is a way of grounding our faith in what we have already seen of his character.
But there is a danger here.
Remembering the past can strengthen our faith, but it can also become a hindrance if we're not careful.
I believe there's an important difference between a monument and a memorial. A monument can inspire gratitude and encourage us to move forward. A memorial can sometimes leave us longing for what once was.
Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with nostalgia. We all have memories we cherish, experiences we would love to revisit, and seasons of life we sometimes wish we could recapture.
The problem arises when our affection for the past begins to limit our willingness to embrace the future.
We see this in our personal lives. Sometimes we become so attached to a former season of life that we struggle to embrace the opportunities and responsibilities of the present. We compare everything new with what we once had, convinced that the best days are behind us.
And we see it in churches.
Churches often have rich histories filled with faithful people who prayed, sacrificed, served, and gave generously. There are stories of lives changed, families strengthened, ministries launched, and communities blessed. Those stories deserve to be told and remembered.
But sometimes, without realizing it, we begin to confuse honoring our history with preserving everything about it.
We become so focused on how things used to be that we struggle to discern what God may be calling us to do now. We measure faithfulness by how much remains unchanged rather than by how faithfully we are carrying out Christ's mission.
We begin to long for yesterday instead of preparing for tomorrow.
When that happens, something intended to strengthen our faith can actually weaken it.
Remembering should produce gratitude, not captivity; courage, not paralysis; faith for the future, not simply longing for the past.
Christianity is a faith grounded in history. We believe because of what God has done.
We look back to the exodus, the ministry of Jesus, his death and resurrection, and the birth and growth of the church. Our faith is not based merely on an idea or a philosophy. It is rooted in God's actions in the world.
But while our faith should be informed by history, it must not become controlled by history.
There is a difference between being rooted in the past and being rooted to the past.
Think about the difference between roots and anchors. Both have a purpose, but they accomplish very different things.
Roots draw nourishment from the ground, enabling a tree to grow and flourish. Anchors hold a vessel in place, preventing it from moving.
Our history should be like roots. It should nourish our faith, deepen our convictions, and remind us of God's faithfulness so that we can continue to grow.
It should never become an anchor that keeps us from going where God may be leading us.
This is especially important for the church. We must never compromise the truth of the gospel, the lordship of Jesus, or the authority of Scripture. But the methods we use to communicate the gospel, serve our communities, and make disciples may need to change as circumstances and generations change.
We can be deeply grateful for the ways God worked in the past without assuming that he must work in exactly the same ways in the future.
Faithfulness doesn't require us to recreate yesterday. It requires us to obey God today.
One detail in the story of Joshua 4 is particularly important.
The Israelites were instructed to build their monument at Gilgal after crossing the Jordan. But God never intended for them to remain there indefinitely.
They had crossed the river, but their journey was not over. There were still challenges ahead, including the fortified city of Jericho. The stones were meant to remind them of God's power so that they could face those challenges with faith.
They weren't supposed to build their lives around the monument. They were supposed to remember what God had done and keep moving forward.
Gilgal was a place to remember, not a place to remain.
That is a powerful lesson for us.
Sometimes we want God to take us back to a familiar place, restore a former season, or make things the way they used to be. But perhaps the more important question isn't whether we can return to yesterday. It's whether we are willing to trust him with tomorrow.
What if the purpose of remembering God's past faithfulness is not to convince us that our best days are behind us, but to give us courage to believe that God still has work for us to do?
What if the greatest way to honor what God has done is to remain faithful to what he is calling us to do now?
The past can be a powerful source of encouragement, but it was never intended to become our permanent destination.
There is something else worth noticing about the stones in Joshua's story. They were intended for people who had not yet experienced the miracle.
The next generation would see the monument and ask about its significance. They would need someone to explain what God had done.
That means remembering God's faithfulness is not merely a personal responsibility. It is something we pass on.
We have a responsibility to tell our children and grandchildren the stories of God's faithfulness. Churches have a responsibility to remember and share the stories of those who came before them. We need to preserve the testimonies of people whose prayers, sacrifices, and faithfulness helped make possible the blessings we enjoy today.
But passing on our faith involves more than telling stories about what God did yesterday.
It means demonstrating the same trust, courage, generosity, and obedience that characterized those who came before us.
Imagine if future generations could look back on our lives and say:
“When they faced uncertainty, they chose faith over fear. When they faced difficult decisions, they chose mission over nostalgia. When they didn't know exactly what the future would hold, they trusted the God who had been faithful to them in the past.”
That would be a legacy worth leaving.
The greatest tribute we can pay to the faithfulness of those who came before us is not to insist that everything remain as it was. It is to demonstrate the same faith that enabled them to serve God in their generation.
Their story does not have to end with us. It can become part of the foundation upon which others build.
Joshua's story reminds us that God wanted his people to remember what he had done at the Jordan. But the stones were never the point. The God who brought them across the river was the point.
The monument was meant to direct their attention beyond itself, to the faithfulness and power of the One who had led them there.
We need that same perspective.
We should be grateful for the people who have influenced us, the experiences that have shaped us, and the ways God has worked in our lives. We should honor the faithful people who built our churches, served our communities, and passed the faith to the next generation.
But we must resist the temptation to believe that preserving the past is the same thing as being faithful to God.
Our calling is not simply to maintain what others have built. It is to continue the mission they served.
Perhaps the most important question we can ask ourselves is this: What will we do today because of what God has done for us in the past?
Will we trust him more deeply? Will we serve more faithfully? Will we face our challenges with greater courage? Will we become more willing to follow him into unfamiliar territory?
The answers to those questions will determine whether our memories become monuments that strengthen our faith or anchors that hold us back.
So thank God for the stones. Tell the stories. Honor those who came before you. Remember the times when God made a way where there seemed to be no way.
And then keep moving forward.
For the greatest way to honor yesterday's faithfulness is through today's obedience.
We remember what God has done—not so that we can spend our lives looking backward, but so that we can move forward with confidence in the God who has been faithful through every generation.
The God who led his people across the Jordan is still worthy of our trust today.