Prostitute to Promise
The Relationship: From Jericho to Jesus
I was talking to my firstborn daughter, Sophia. She’s five. Sophia and her little sisters have been doing something since they were tiny. All three of my girls put on dresses and use their incredible imaginations to pretend to be fancy.
We have not implemented TV time in our home. Except the occasional Jesus story. The occasional Minno Kids episode. So when I heard Sophia say she wanted to be like Elsa, I didn’t condemn her school, which is where it came from. I didn’t even say no.
I simply asked her why.
She said, “Because they’re pretty.”
So I gently stepped into the conversation.
I told her God thinks what is most beautiful is the heart.
I kept it simple. I told her beauty is not defined by appearance. I also told her God and I celebrate that she is beautiful, because I do not want to shame her for being pretty.
But I ultimately concluded, emphatically and gently.
He and I care most about your character.
Then I gave her an easy picture.
I told her about a girl I saw today with braces. She looked different. But I noticed how beautiful she was for looking different, and she treated somebody kindly. I asked Sophia, “Is she less beautiful because she looks different?”
Sophia sweetly answered, “No.”
With that little impartation, she ran away, excited to continue her imagination.
As a father of three daughters, I am responsible for the direction of their hearts.
Some of you need to hear this. I am responsible for their hearts and what goes in, not their salvation. That is Jesus.
I cannot always prevent what the outside world celebrates. But I can guide, protect, pray, and be first on what is going on inside my home.
I do not want my girls to look up to beauty that is unattainable and make that an identity goal.
I want them to look up to Jesus.
And I want them to see that God loves to use the most unexpected people, like Rahab.
Who was Rahab?
Rahab was a prostitute in Jericho. And her life was about to change forever.
First, a little context from Joshua 2.
Joshua is leading Israel after Moses. God is bringing His people into the land He promised them. Jericho is the first major city standing in their way.
So Joshua sends spies into Jericho.
They end up in Rahab’s house.
The king hears about it and sends men to find them. Rahab could have handed the spies over. She could have saved her own skin by proving loyalty to her city.
Instead, she hides them.
She risks everything.
And Scripture tells us why.
Rahab had heard what the LORD, Yahweh, had done. The Red Sea. The victories. The way God fights for His people. Fear fell on the land, but in Rahab, fear turned into faith. She confesses that the LORD is God in heaven above and on earth beneath.
Then faith moves.
She asks the spies to treat her family kindly. The word she uses is hesed, covenant love. Steady love. Loyal love. Not a casual favor. A mercy rooted in promise.
She could have negotiated only for herself.
Instead, she pleads for her father, mother, brothers, sisters, and all who belong to them.
And the spies promise her protection if she gathers her household into her home.
Then they give her a sign.
A scarlet cord in the window.
That cord was not magic. It was a marker. A visible line between judgment and mercy.
And there is a detail that was powerful to discover. The Hebrew word used for “cord” is also used elsewhere for “hope.” That might be intentional wordplay, or it might simply be a straightforward word. Either way, the picture holds.
Hope hung in the window.
Scarlet is not accidental in the Bible. Scarlet shows up in Israel’s worship and cleansing imagery. And it makes me think of this simple truth.
God saves through a sign.
In Exodus, blood marked the doorposts. In Joshua, a cord marked the window. In the gospel, the blood of Jesus marks a people.
Rahab’s home became a place of rescue because she trusted the LORD’s word and clung to the sign she was given.
And later, God does something only He could do.
He writes Rahab into the family line of Jesus.
A Canaanite. A prostitute. A woman with a past.
Grace does not ask permission to be scandalous.
So what does that have to do with my daughters?
Everything.
Because my girls are growing up in a world that disciples them daily.
It tells them what “pretty” means.
It tells them what matters.
It tells them who is worth becoming.
And I want to be first to tell them the truth.
Not that they are ugly.
Not that beauty is bad.
But that the deepest beauty is a heart made alive by God.
And that Jesus is the Hero.
Rahab is not the Savior. Rahab is a billboard.
She is proof that faith is a gift from God, and God delights to save the one nobody would pick.
Rahab was a hero, yes.
But not because of leadership ability.
Not because of courage.
Not because of beauty or identity.
Because God.
Because she believed His word. And her faith showed up in action.
That is the kind of story I want to live in front of my girls.
Not “look at me.”
Look at Jesus.
So where does that leave us?
Never Finished challenge:
Idolize, worship, and prioritize the right things.
Ask God to search what is shaping you and your home.
What is playing on your TV?
What is in your headphones?
What are you feeding your mind with podcasts, music, YouTube, and social media?
What are your kids hearing at school that is quietly becoming truth to them?
Then make swift changes.
We are inundated with information, but constipated when it comes to reading the Word.
If you do not open the Bible, the loudest voices around you will shape your faith.
And Sunday will not be your quick fix.
So keep it practical.
Turn off one thing at a time each week.
Turn on one more verse at a time each week.
Slowly, steadily, watch Jesus re-order your loves.
What does today say about God?
Equipped
God does not call the equipped.
He equips the called.
I’m often reminded by well-meaning older adults how they feel “so bad” for me that I have three daughters and one on the way.
I don’t think they mean harm. But those statements are degrading, especially when said with my daughters listening.
So I respond quickly.
“No, I’m blessed. My daughters are incredible. They are a gift from God.”
But on the inside, I know this.
Without Jesus, I would be a miserable leader, husband, and father.
I would fall short.
I would repeat patterns I learned as a child.
I would drift.
That might sound drastic, but it’s true.
By the grace of God, I want Rahab’s faith.
I want that decisive clinging to the LORD when everything around me is loud, fearful, and compromised.
And as Jesus changes me, the little piece of me that becomes more like Him becomes a clearer pointer for my girls.
And it will be for you too.
May God bless you with His presence and a life that is centered on Jesus.
What a Father.
What a Friend.
What a King.
Thank You, Jesus.