God Breaks Down the Walls
When Nothing Seems to Be Happening: Faith, Walls, and the God Who Goes Before You
There is a moment in one of the most dramatic stories in all of Scripture that tends to get overlooked. It is not the moment the walls come crashing down. It is not the shout, or the trumpets, or the army charging forward. It is the moment before any of that — a solitary figure standing close to an enormous, impenetrable wall, staring up at something that seems completely impossible.
That figure is Joshua. And in many ways, he is all of us.
Starting in the Right Place
Before diving into the story of Jericho found in Joshua chapter 6, it is worth pausing at a verse tucked into Hebrews chapter 11. That chapter, often called the "faith chapter," serves as a kind of hall of fame for those in Scripture who lived with extraordinary trust in God. Verse 30 makes a striking declaration about the walls of Jericho: they fell by faith, after the army had marched around them for seven days.
Not by strategy. Not by military superiority. Not by the right technique or the right number of trumpets. By faith.
This is the lens through which the entire story must be read. Because the temptation, when we encounter a story like this, is to focus on the method — the marching, the trumpets, the shout — and miss the point entirely. The walls did not fall because of what the people did. They fell because the people trusted the God who had already declared the city his.
That reordering matters enormously for how we approach our own lives.
The Wrong Question
When Joshua encounters a mysterious armed figure near the walls of Jericho in Joshua chapter 5, his first instinct is completely understandable. He walks up to this stranger and asks a direct question: are you for us or for our enemies?
It is a reasonable question. It is also the wrong one.
The figure identifies himself as the commander of the army of the Lord, and his answer is neither. He is not on Israel's side or Jericho's side. He is on the Lord's side — and the real question is whether Joshua will be on that side too.
Joshua's response is immediate. He falls to the ground and worships. In that moment, he answers the only question that actually matters. Not "is God for me?" but "am I for God?"
This distinction reshapes everything. The Christian life is not about recruiting God to help us win our battles. It is about surrendering to a God who has already determined the outcome and inviting us to participate in what he is doing.
Two Ways to Read the Story
There are two common ways people approach the story of Jericho, and both carry important truths.
The first is to see ourselves as Joshua — facing a wall, called to march in faith, trusting that God will bring down what stands before us. There is genuine encouragement in this. Many of us are up against something that feels immovable. A broken relationship. A persistent struggle. A situation that has not changed no matter how long we have prayed. The call to keep marching, to keep trusting, to keep obeying even when nothing visible has shifted — that is a word worth holding onto.
But this approach carries a danger. It can quietly turn us into the hero of the story. It can slide into a transactional view of faith, where we believe that if we do enough of the right things, God is obligated to deliver. That is not faith. That is bargaining.
The second approach is more uncomfortable but perhaps more honest. What if we are not Joshua in this story? What if we are Jericho?
Like that fortified city, many of us have built walls — around our hearts, around our pain, around the parts of ourselves we do not want God to reach. We are not the rescuer. We are the ones who need rescuing. And the good news of the gospel is that God does not wait for us to tear down our own walls before he comes near. He comes near first. He declares the city already his. And then he invites us to open ourselves to him.
The Plan That Sounds Foolish
The instructions God gives Joshua are, by any military standard, absurd. March around the city once a day for six days. On the seventh day, march around seven times. Have priests carry the ark — a symbol of worship, not warfare — at the front. Then shout.
No battering rams. No siege towers. No conventional strategy whatsoever.
God's ways consistently look counterintuitive to human thinking. Forgiving an enemy instead of seeking revenge. Giving generously when finances are tight. Resting when the workload is overwhelming. These things do not make sense on paper. And yet Scripture, again and again, points to a God whose methods confound human wisdom precisely because the victory was never meant to rest on human strength.
The Laps That Feel Like Nothing
Here is where the story becomes deeply personal. For six full days, the people of Israel marched around those walls and nothing happened. The walls looked exactly the same on day six as they did on day one. There was no trembling, no cracking, no visible sign that anything was working.
Faith expressed over time is called endurance. And endurance is often the hardest part.
Many people find themselves in a season that feels like lapping the same ground repeatedly. The prayer has been prayed. The obedience has been offered. And yet the wall still stands. The temptation in those moments is to stop — to conclude that God is absent, or that this particular wall is simply not going to fall.
But consider what would have happened if Joshua had stopped on day six.
God is not absent during seasons of unanswered prayer or unresolved struggle. He is present, shaping character, deepening dependence, and preparing something that human impatience would forfeit if given the chance. Endurance is not passive resignation. It is active, ongoing trust in a God who has already declared the outcome.
The Walls Can Come Down
The city of Jericho was already God's before a single lap was completed. Salvation is already accomplished before a single act of righteousness is performed. The work has been done. What remains is the response — not to earn what God offers, but to receive it in faith and walk in obedience.
Whatever wall you are facing today, or whatever wall has been built around your own heart, the same God who went before Joshua goes before you. He is not waiting to be impressed. He is waiting to be trusted.
Keep marching. The walls can come down.
There is a moment in one of the most dramatic stories in all of Scripture that tends to get overlooked. It is not the moment the walls come crashing down. It is not the shout, or the trumpets, or the army charging forward. It is the moment before any of that — a solitary figure standing close to an enormous, impenetrable wall, staring up at something that seems completely impossible.
That figure is Joshua. And in many ways, he is all of us.
Starting in the Right Place
Before diving into the story of Jericho found in Joshua chapter 6, it is worth pausing at a verse tucked into Hebrews chapter 11. That chapter, often called the "faith chapter," serves as a kind of hall of fame for those in Scripture who lived with extraordinary trust in God. Verse 30 makes a striking declaration about the walls of Jericho: they fell by faith, after the army had marched around them for seven days.
Not by strategy. Not by military superiority. Not by the right technique or the right number of trumpets. By faith.
This is the lens through which the entire story must be read. Because the temptation, when we encounter a story like this, is to focus on the method — the marching, the trumpets, the shout — and miss the point entirely. The walls did not fall because of what the people did. They fell because the people trusted the God who had already declared the city his.
That reordering matters enormously for how we approach our own lives.
The Wrong Question
When Joshua encounters a mysterious armed figure near the walls of Jericho in Joshua chapter 5, his first instinct is completely understandable. He walks up to this stranger and asks a direct question: are you for us or for our enemies?
It is a reasonable question. It is also the wrong one.
The figure identifies himself as the commander of the army of the Lord, and his answer is neither. He is not on Israel's side or Jericho's side. He is on the Lord's side — and the real question is whether Joshua will be on that side too.
Joshua's response is immediate. He falls to the ground and worships. In that moment, he answers the only question that actually matters. Not "is God for me?" but "am I for God?"
This distinction reshapes everything. The Christian life is not about recruiting God to help us win our battles. It is about surrendering to a God who has already determined the outcome and inviting us to participate in what he is doing.
Two Ways to Read the Story
There are two common ways people approach the story of Jericho, and both carry important truths.
The first is to see ourselves as Joshua — facing a wall, called to march in faith, trusting that God will bring down what stands before us. There is genuine encouragement in this. Many of us are up against something that feels immovable. A broken relationship. A persistent struggle. A situation that has not changed no matter how long we have prayed. The call to keep marching, to keep trusting, to keep obeying even when nothing visible has shifted — that is a word worth holding onto.
But this approach carries a danger. It can quietly turn us into the hero of the story. It can slide into a transactional view of faith, where we believe that if we do enough of the right things, God is obligated to deliver. That is not faith. That is bargaining.
The second approach is more uncomfortable but perhaps more honest. What if we are not Joshua in this story? What if we are Jericho?
Like that fortified city, many of us have built walls — around our hearts, around our pain, around the parts of ourselves we do not want God to reach. We are not the rescuer. We are the ones who need rescuing. And the good news of the gospel is that God does not wait for us to tear down our own walls before he comes near. He comes near first. He declares the city already his. And then he invites us to open ourselves to him.
The Plan That Sounds Foolish
The instructions God gives Joshua are, by any military standard, absurd. March around the city once a day for six days. On the seventh day, march around seven times. Have priests carry the ark — a symbol of worship, not warfare — at the front. Then shout.
No battering rams. No siege towers. No conventional strategy whatsoever.
God's ways consistently look counterintuitive to human thinking. Forgiving an enemy instead of seeking revenge. Giving generously when finances are tight. Resting when the workload is overwhelming. These things do not make sense on paper. And yet Scripture, again and again, points to a God whose methods confound human wisdom precisely because the victory was never meant to rest on human strength.
The Laps That Feel Like Nothing
Here is where the story becomes deeply personal. For six full days, the people of Israel marched around those walls and nothing happened. The walls looked exactly the same on day six as they did on day one. There was no trembling, no cracking, no visible sign that anything was working.
Faith expressed over time is called endurance. And endurance is often the hardest part.
Many people find themselves in a season that feels like lapping the same ground repeatedly. The prayer has been prayed. The obedience has been offered. And yet the wall still stands. The temptation in those moments is to stop — to conclude that God is absent, or that this particular wall is simply not going to fall.
But consider what would have happened if Joshua had stopped on day six.
God is not absent during seasons of unanswered prayer or unresolved struggle. He is present, shaping character, deepening dependence, and preparing something that human impatience would forfeit if given the chance. Endurance is not passive resignation. It is active, ongoing trust in a God who has already declared the outcome.
The Walls Can Come Down
The city of Jericho was already God's before a single lap was completed. Salvation is already accomplished before a single act of righteousness is performed. The work has been done. What remains is the response — not to earn what God offers, but to receive it in faith and walk in obedience.
Whatever wall you are facing today, or whatever wall has been built around your own heart, the same God who went before Joshua goes before you. He is not waiting to be impressed. He is waiting to be trusted.
Keep marching. The walls can come down.
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