Deuteronomy 4: The Story I'll Tell

"Especially the day you stood before the Lord your God at Horeb (Mount Sinai), when the Lord said to me, ‘Assemble the people to Me and I will let them hear My words, so that they may learn to fear Me [with awe-filled reverence and profound respect] all the days they live on the land, and so that they may teach their children.’”— Deuteronomy 4:10 AMP

As I write this, I’m about 20 minutes from landing in London with my kids. It’s a strange feeling, traveling without Landon and Syrus—bittersweet, really. Change has a way of doing that. Even in exciting moments, there’s a twinge of sadness in what’s different, in what’s missing. Time passes

so quickly for you mama's out there, hold on. It goes by way too quickly. Make the most of your time together. Try not to sweat the little things. Okay RANT over...As I sit here, this verse weighs heavily on me... especially with the boys not here. God told Moses to gather the people so they could hear His words, learn to revere Him, and—most importantly—so they could teach their children.

Moses models something so beautiful: the art of remembering. He prepares the Israelites to enter the Promised Land, he doesn’t just tell them to move forward—he makes them look back. He reminds them where they’ve been, what God has done, and why it all matters.

I love how the Amplified Bible defines “fear” here—not as terror or dread, but as awe-filled reverence and profound respect.  It’s not about running in fear; it’s about standing in wonder. That’s what I want my children to know. More than anything, I hope my kids see the sweet friendship the Lord and I have. I want them to know Him not as distant or demanding, but as loving and faithful—because that’s exactly who He is. I wish I had understood love better growing up. But I do now. I know what a good, good Father He is. And that’s what I want my children to understand—not just through my words, but through my actions, through our conversations, through the way I live. (Ive always believed more is caught then taught)

There is an enemy who works hard to make us question our identity and the love of our Father. But I refuse (Lord willing) to let my kids grow up without knowing who they are and whose they are. I want them to know the love that has pursued me, changed me, and held me in every season. I’m reminded of the song, The Story I’ll Tell.

One day, I’ll look back on this moment—this trip, this season, these reflections—and see the faithfulness of God woven into it all. And I’ll tell the story. The story of His love is one that’s always worth telling.