The Sandals Moment

Have you ever noticed how often we approach God with our blueprints already drawn? We slide our carefully crafted plans across the table, waiting for Him to sprinkle some divine favor on them, to bless what we've already decided should happen. We know what needs to be done. We can see the solution clearly. We just need God to get on board.

But what if the greatest breakthrough in your life doesn't come from God blessing your plans? What if it comes from surrendering your plans to Him?

The Problem With Our Plans

In marriage, many conflicts arise not because couples want different things, but because they have different approaches to reaching the same goals. One partner cleans as they go; the other... well, let's just say they have a different system. Same destination, different routes.

Our relationship with God often mirrors this dynamic. We have desires and wants for our lives. We know what boxes God should be checking because He loves us and has good plans for us. We're not even asking for selfish things most of the time—we just want what seems right and good.

But here's the uncomfortable truth: God oftentimes doesn't do what we want Him to do because if He did, He would be training us to settle for something less. His ways and thoughts are always higher and better than ours. When we don't know His plans and we're trying to execute our own, we're settling for something inferior.

The faster we can get to that place of saying, "I trust what You're thinking here, even though I don't understand it," the faster we can receive everything He has for our lives.

Joshua's Impossible Assignment

Consider Joshua standing outside the walls of Jericho. He was a seasoned warrior, one of only two spies who had faith that Israel could conquer the Promised Land decades earlier. He had been rewarded for his faith with forty years of wandering in the desert—a strange kind of reward, but one that prepared him for leadership.

Now he faced his first walled city. This wasn't a battle he had fought before. As a man of action, he likely walked around Jericho, strategizing where to place troops, where to position siege equipment, planning his attack.

Then he encountered someone—a man with a sword. With characteristic boldness, Joshua approached and demanded, "Are you friend or foe?"

The response changed everything: "Neither one. I am the commander of the Lord's army."

Joshua immediately fell to the ground in reverence. This wasn't just an angel—many scholars believe this was a pre-incarnate appearance of Jesus Himself. And Joshua's questions evaporated in the presence of such power and holiness.

Notice the shift: Joshua went from "Whose side are you on?" to "I'm on Your side. What do You want me to do?"

The Prayer That Changes Everything

This is one of the most powerful prayers we can pray: "What do You want Your servant to do?"

Not "What do You think about my plans?" Not "Can You bless this strategy I've developed?" But simply, "What do You want?"

This prayer acknowledges that God has plans for us—plans that always involve action, not just sitting and waiting. God isn't interested in us remaining passive. He has work for us to do, but it must be His work, accomplished His way.

Take Off Your Sandals

The commander's first instruction to Joshua seems almost absurd given the military situation: "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy."

Imagine being Joshua in that moment. You're preparing for battle against a fortified city, and the representative of the Lord's army tells you to... remove your shoes? This is the divine strategy for defeating your enemies?

But here's what God knows about us: He cannot trust us with the big things He asks if He cannot trust us with the little things He asks.

We get laser-focused on the big picture—the promotion, the healing, the breakthrough—and God brings us back to the small obediences. Have you made that call? Sent that text? Been faithful in the little things?

And then there's the profound truth in this command: "The ground is holy even though your feet are stinky." God's holiness can cover our messiness. What He offers is so much bigger and better than what we bring to the table. He's not afraid of the messiest parts of our lives—in fact, those are the parts He most wants us to give Him access to.

The most incredible part? Joshua just did it. No questions. No negotiations. He obeyed.

The Most Illogical Battle Plan

God then revealed His strategy for conquering Jericho, and it made absolutely no military sense:

March around the city once a day for six days. Silently. No arrows, no trash talk, no intimidation tactics. Just march. Then on the seventh day, march around seven times. Have priests blow ram's horns. Then shout, and the walls will fall.

If you're Joshua pitching this to your generals, they're probably wondering if you've lost your mind. This isn't sound military strategy. You're completely exposed to the enemy, vulnerable, revealing your weaknesses.

But God promised victory. And the walls didn't come down because Joshua didn't struggle—they came down because he struggled and kept stepping.

Keep Stepping Through the Struggle

For some of us, this is the word we need today: The struggle doesn't mean you're failing at your faith. The struggle doesn't mean God has abandoned you. In many ways, the struggle means you're doing it right.

The enemy says "stop" in the middle of the struggle. Jesus says "keep going."

On that seventh day, Joshua had to put in seven times as much effort—seven laps instead of one. How many times do we give up just before the breakthrough? What might the fifth attempt accomplish that the fourth one didn't? What about the sixth or seventh?

We pray for things and ask God to move, but then we quit when it requires more effort than we anticipated. We think, "This has been pointless. What's one more lap going to do?"

But God says: Just keep walking. Just keep stepping. Even in your struggle, keep moving forward.

From 120 to Billions

Two thousand years ago, Jesus lived a sinless life, paid a price we couldn't pay, and reconciled us to the Father. Before He left, He told about 120 people to tell others His story.

We're sitting here today because 120 people said yes to what God asked. Was it easy? No. Was there opposition and struggle? Absolutely. But they kept stepping, kept going, and the message spread from that small corner of the world to the entire globe.

There is hope in Jesus that exists nowhere else in this world. We have that answer. We've experienced that relationship and transformation.

Standing on Holy Ground

What if the biggest shift in your life doesn't come from a bigger prayer? What if it comes from a braver surrender?

Not "bless what I'm doing," but "show me what You're doing and help me join in."

When our plans collide with God's, it feels uncomfortable, painful, even like punishment. But it's not punishment—it's positioning. He's getting you ready for the next work, bringing out a new level of maturity, preparing you for what He's called you to.

You might feel worn out today. You've had a tough week. You're trying to force doors open, control outcomes, make God agree with your blueprint. And Jesus is gently whispering: "Would you take your sandals off? Would you do that little thing? Would you recognize that this ground is holy, and that even though you are messy, My holiness is bigger?"

You're not behind. You're not forgotten. You're not failing.

You're standing on holy ground.

When you come to the end of yourself, that's when you really discover what you need from Him. You can't change the past or control the future, but you can be responsible for how you process today, how you respond to His calling, how you keep stepping forward despite the struggle.

The question isn't whether God will be faithful. The question is whether we'll surrender our plans long enough to discover His.

Take off your sandals. The ground where you're standing—right now, in the middle of your mess, facing your impossible wall—is holy ground.

And the God who brought down the walls of Jericho is still in the business of doing the impossible.