Joshua Nunn shuffled between a closet full of file cabinets
and the boxes lining his office floor. He hadn't expected it to
be this hard-packing up his dead partner's things and facing
whatever was left of his own future. There was a heaviness in
the air, a somber silence as though even the walls grieved the loss
of the charismatic man whose presence had once consumed the
Joshua sighed. He had never felt so alone in all his life.
Bob Moses, senior attorney and Joshua's lifelong friend,
opened the Religious Freedom Institute in Bethany, Pennsylvania,
for one reason only: To take back ground lost to the enemy. "Join
me," Bob had said when he presented the idea to Joshua three
years earlier. "The promised land awaits!"
And so it had. They'd won two local Pennsylvania cases in the
past six months-one in which a group opposed to religious
freedom sued a school district to prevent students from praying
before football games. The case threatened to capture national
attention-much like the one in Texas a few years back. But this
time, when the opposition faced Bob and Joshua, they backed
"God has His hand on this office," Bob would say. "I can feel
it, Joshua. He's taking us somewhere big."
There were dreams of hiring more attorneys, buying a bigger
office building, and finding a place on America's legal center stage
where they could join similar organizations in the national fight
for religious freedom.
But every one of those dreams seemed to die the day Bob
Moses slumped over his office desk, dead of a heart attack at age
Now there were bills to pay, office expenses to maintain, and
not a single viable case on the horizon. With Bob gone, clients
apparently assumed the firm was closed, and now, after just three
weeks of Joshua working on his own, the phone calls were few
and far between.
He grabbed another stack of files, carried them across the
office, and dropped them in a box. When he was finished clearing
out his partner's things, he would deliver them to Bob's
widow. The woman was taking it well, but many nights since
Bob's death Joshua had come home to find his partner's wife sitting
with his own dear Helen at the dining room table, tears in
I know he's in a better place, Lord, but why? He still had so much
to do .
Be strong, Joshua.
Be strong? It was the answer he seemed to be getting from the
Lord more and more these days and it seemed an odd bit of
advice. He was being strong, wasn't he? He hadn't broken down
or refused to get out of bed. No, he'd been at the office every day
since the funeral, and still not a call or case had come his way.
He'd researched potential lawsuits, made phone calls, written letters-but
The facts were simple. If he didn't start bringing in cases soon,
he would have to close up shop and face the reality that at fifty-six
years he was as desperately in need of a job as he'd been his
first month out of college. A shallow laugh made its way to the
surface, and Joshua shook his head.
He and Bob had worked as trial lawyers with Jones, Garner,
and Schmidt for thirty years before joining forces in this religious
freedom venture. In addition to their lofty goals for the Institute,
there were other benefits. No more commutes to the big city,
extra time for evening card games and barbecues when any of
their kids were home, more time in the town they loved. Joshua
felt the sting of tears in his eyes and he blinked hard as he
remembered how his partner seemed to have a bounce in his
step at the idea of spending more time with his wife.
And with Faith.
There was a lump in Joshua's throat and he coughed so it
would ease up. Much as he missed his friend and partner, young
Faith missed the man more. Especially now, when it was supposed
He couldn't bear to think of Faith, of how difficult her father's
death had been on her. Instead he drifted back to the beginning,
back to the early 1970s where it had all begun. The year he was
hired by the big city firm, he and Helen and their two girls
moved to Bethany-the most beautiful place in all the world.
Bob, Betty, and their daughters followed suit two years later, and
the families had been practically related ever since. Joshua and
Bob would tease each other about being surrounded by women.
"Not a son among us, can you believe it?" Bob would throw
his hands in the air.
The memories faded. Joshua carried a stack of books across
the room and finished filling the box. As he did he glanced at the
portraits on the wall. Bob Moses and Joshua Nunn, attorneys at
law. We were the luckiest guys in all of Bethany, Bob.
These days everything was different. Bob was gone. Joshua's
kids were both married and lived a few hours' drive away, and
Bob's oldest daughter lived in Chicago. All that remained was
Bob's youngest-Faith-still single at twenty-nine and trying to
find her way in a world that offered little assistance, especially
when the chips were down. Faith lived in Bethany and commuted
fifteen minutes to Philadelphia's WKZN affiliate station
where she anchored the nightly news. Joshua pictured her as she
had been a few weeks back at her father's funeral: Long, blond
hair and far-off, pale blue eyes. Beautiful girl; a celebrity really.
And very close to her father.
Bob hadn't talked about it much, but Joshua knew Faith was
part of the reason he wanted to work in Bethany. "I worry about
her," Bob would say now and then. "She's had a rough go of it."
The plan to open a law office in Bethany seemed like a winner
from every angle. They could leave the high-powered, high-pressured
firm and would work from a leased office anchored in
the center of the city's quaint downtown district, just minutes
from their homes in Maple Heights. They would spend hours
building cases and strategizing trial appearances and swapping
stories of the good old days-back when they ran cross-country
for rival Philadelphia high schools and squared off more than
once on opposing debate teams.
Bob was so sure of himself, so full of energy and desire, convinced
beyond discussion that God's hand was in this venture.
And from the get-go God blessed their intentions in a way that
made it look as though Bob had been right.
Joshua knelt down and yanked packing tape across the flaps
of the full box.
"Retirement is for old people." Joshua could still hear Bob's
voice as it rang loudly through the office. "We could run this law
office another twenty years." A smile would fill his face.
"Remember, Joshua . where God guides, God provides."
The memory faded on a wave of doubt. Joshua stopped for a
moment, gazing outside at the late summer green in the leaves
that lined Main Street. Why would You guide us here . take us from
our steady jobs . just to leave me all alone? How will I provide stability
for Helen now? For Faith?
Joshua, hear me, son. You are not alone .
The voice was as strong and certain as ever, a constant
reminder that Joshua's relationship with a mighty God was intact,
the single guiding force in his life. He opened another box and
struggled to his feet. Once Bob's things were gone, maybe he
could advertise for a partner. Someone who didn't need to make
money up-front. Joshua huffed at the thought. How likely was
that? The situation was hopeless.
There was something else, too.
With Bob gone, Joshua wondered whether he was actually up
to the task of fighting religious freedom cases. Bob was the outgoing
one, the lawyer with flair and style and conviction. Joshua?
He was merely a simple man who loved God above everything
and everyone else; a man whose arguments in court were succinct
and heartfelt rather than memorable. Bob had said more
profound things at lunch over a cheeseburger and fries than
Joshua had ever said in court. Joshua had figured he'd enjoy
fighting nearly any cause at Bob Moses' side. But without him?
His doubts were rampant as barn mice.
Joshua pulled himself into a nearby chair and hung his head.
What was he supposed to do now? The firm wouldn't hire him
back . His retirement fund was intact, so it wasn't a financial
concern. But with Bob gone Joshua felt as though he'd lost his
sense of direction, his focus as a man. He looked up and studied
the office, taking in the way Helen and Betty had arranged the
plants just so, how the windows on three sides allowed the light
to fill the room. Joshua closed his eyes. This was Bob's dream,
God . tell me if I'm supposed to let it go. Please .
As I was with Bob Moses so I will be with you. I will never
leave you nor forsake you.
Joshua let the silent thought settle on his heart. It was true of
course; God would be with him. But what about the law office?
What of the dream to fight tyrannical forces bent on destroying
Joshua was suddenly more tired than he'd been in weeks. He
rested his head on his desk and closed his eyes. As I was with Bob
Moses . As I was with Bob Moses . As I was with Bob Moses .
Joshua remembered the two cases he and Bob had battled
together, how God had indeed been with them, bringing both
victory and visibility, a presence in the Philadelphia area that had
caused certain political groups to take notice. But that was then,
God . I'm all alone now. I can't do it on my own.
Be strong and courageous . you will lead the people of this
town to inherit the land .
Joshua closed his eyes tighter. Are You talking to me, God? Lead
the people of the town to inherit what land? He shook his head
slightly to clear the strange words. He probably needed more
sleep. He might even be coming down with something. That
could explain this heavy, tired feeling .
Inherit the land? He couldn't scrounge up a single case, let
alone inherit the land.
Before he could pull himself up from his desk he heard a
voice. Not the kind of inner knowing that comes when God
whispers . but an audible voice.
"Be strong and very courageous, Joshua. Be careful to follow
all the ways My servant Bob Moses showed you; do not turn
from them to the right or to the left, that you may be successful
wherever you go."
Joshua sat straight up, eyes wide. A clamminess came over his
hands and neck, and he glanced about the room. The boxes were
no longer scattered over the floor, but stacked neatly by the door.
And one of the photos on the wall looked different. In place of
Bob's picture hung one of a younger man-a man with angry
eyes and a handsome, chiseled face. What in the .?
"If . if that's You talking, God . I want to be strong for You."
Joshua's eyes darted about the room, but the windows offered
none of the familiar views-only golden light almost too brilliant
to take in. His heart began to race. "I . I can't do it alone ."
"Have I not commanded you?"
Joshua sat stone still in his chair as the voice rang out again. It
was booming, yet it warmed the room the way Joshua's heater
warmed his car on winter days.
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged,
for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you
go. Remember the command that Bob Moses, servant of the Lord,
gave you. The Lord your God is giving you rest and has granted
you this land. You will cross My Jordan, and take possession of
the land the Lord your God is giving you for your own."
Joshua banged his head twice against the palm of his hand.
Was he having a stroke? No, maybe it was an inner ear infection,
something that made sounds form into sentences when he was
the only one in the room. There was a flash of light-and then he
In the corner of the room, there in front of Bob's old bookcase,
stood a man wearing the finest armor, a man whose eyes
blazed with shining light. A golden man unlike anyone Joshua
had ever seen before. His breath caught in his throat and his jaw
dropped as the man drew his sword. Joshua's teeth and even the
tips of his fingers trembled, but something deep in his gut told
him he was not in danger. He could trust this man.
He stood, his knees knocking, and made his way closer to the
soldier. "Are you . are you friend or foe?" Joshua forced his voice
to cooperate and then waited stiffly, as though his feet were
planted in cement.
"Neither. I have come as commander of the army of the
Joshua felt his eyes fly open even wider than before.Commander of the army of the Lord? That meant the man was
an . an angel? It was impossible . but what other explanation
was there? Joshua fell facedown to the ground, managing in a
muffled voice, "What message does my Lord have for me?"
The strangely peaceful soldier studied Joshua for a moment.
"Take off your shoes, Joshua, for you stand on holy ground."
Immediately Joshua fumbled with his laces, loosened their
grip on his feet, and slid his shoes off, arranging them neatly so
they faced Bob's bookcase. Who was this man and where had he
come from? If he was an angel did he know about Bob? Had he
spoken with him? Was this God's way of getting Joshua's attention?
And what of the strange light outside and the odd picture
on the wall?
But before he could ask any of the hundreds of questions
pelting the roof of his heart, the phone rang. Joshua groped
about, but nothing was where it should have been.
Again and again the phone rang, until Joshua sat bolt upright
and opened his eyes, his mouth dry, heart pounding. He was
breathing fast and he glanced around the room, stunned at the
sight that met him.
The man was gone. In his place were all the boxes and piles
of papers and books that had been there minutes earlier. His eyes
darted to the photographs on the wall and he exhaled his relief.
Bob's picture was back, and there was no sign of the angry young
man whose picture had been there a moment ago.
Joshua remembered the voice and what had been said. What
land? How could he be crossing the Lord's Jordan when the Holy
Land was thousands of miles away?
None of it made sense.
The phone rang once more and the sound of it startled Joshua,
jerking him further back to reality. There was wetness at the corner
of his mouth, and he wiped it with the back of his hand as everything
became utterly clear. He hadn't heard a voice or been visited
by a commander in the Lord's army. Of course not.
He had fallen asleep and it had all been a dream.
He reached for the receiver and snapped it to his ear.
"Religious Freedom Institute, Joshua Nunn."
"Good. You're in." It was Frank Furlong the town's mayor.
Joshua eased back into his chair and willed his heart to slow
down. He and Frank had been friends for twenty years.
"Yeah . sorry, I was busy. What's up, Frank?"
There was a pause. "I got wind of something today. Could be
big, could be nothing, but I'd like to talk about it. How about
over lunch tomorrow?"
Images of the golden soldier and the sound of a booming
voice like none he'd ever heard before still clamored for Joshua's
attention. "Tomorrow's Saturday. Can't it wait?" He and Helen
had plans to drive to the lake and take in an afternoon of fishing.
Joshua figured they'd talk about his work plans-especially now
that it seemed clear the law office wasn't going to survive.
Again the mayor hesitated. "This is very big, Joshua. If it happens,
it'll come down on Monday, and we'll need your help. In
fact, you'll be the primary counsel." There was a beat. "Tomorrow
at noon, okay? Alvins on Walnut."
The fog was still clearing from Joshua's head, but he heard the
urgency in Frank's voice. He and Helen could fish Sunday after
church. "I'll be there."
He hung up the phone, staring at it, pondering. What could
possibly be so urgent? Whatever it was, it involved the city of
Bethany, and Frank wanted him as primary counsel. A surge of
hope wound its way through Joshua's being. Was this the answer
he'd been praying for? Was God going to let him keep the office
after all? He considered the idea when a draft from the air conditioning
sifted between his toes.
Frowning, he glanced down. He had only socks on his feet.What's this about? In the dream there'd been something about taking
off his shoes because the place was holy, but that had only
been a dream, right? So where were his shoes? He looked around
the room and finally spotted them several feet away.
Sitting neatly, side by side, facing Bob's old bookcase.