Eternal God,
after judgment had fallen,
after a generation had died in the wilderness,
You told Moses and Eleazar
to count the people again.
Not the fathers who left Egypt,
but their sons and daughters,
those who had grown in the desert,
those who would enter the land.
You are the God who counts,
who numbers,
who never forgets His own.
Lord, teach me to see Your mercy in this.
The graves of the past were many,
but so too was the grace of new beginnings.
You do not leave Your promises buried.
Even when one generation falls in unbelief,
You raise up another to walk forward.
Remind me that Your plans do not fail,
Your covenant does not expire,
Your Word does not die with men.
Father, each name was recorded,
each tribe remembered,
every family seen.
How comforting to know
that You are not indifferent to details.
If You know the count of Israel’s tribes,
You surely know the hairs on my head,
the tears I’ve cried,
the days of my life.
You remember me, Lord.
I am not forgotten.
But You also reminded them of loss.
The sons of Korah did not perish,
but Dathan and Abiram were swallowed up.
The rebellion of the fathers
echoed into the census of the sons.
Lord, let me take this warning to heart.
My choices ripple through generations.
Guard me from leaving behind
a legacy of unbelief.
Instead, let my life sow faith,
so that those who come after me
inherit trust,
not rebellion.
And You, Lord, divided the land by lot,
an inheritance for every tribe.
So too, in Christ,
I have an inheritance
not measured by borders,
but by eternity.
Not divided by lot,
but secured by blood.
Teach me to live as an heir of promise,
with eyes lifted to the city yet to come,
whose builder and maker is God.
So today, Lord,
count me among the faithful.
Number me among those who believe.
Let me not die in the wilderness of doubt,
but walk into the fullness of Your promise.
May my name be written,
not only in censuses of earth,
but in the Lamb’s book of life,
kept secure forever.
In the name of Jesus,
the Author of my inheritance,
Amen.