Deuteronomy 1:20

Letters to the Faithful - Deuteronomy 1:20

Berean Standard Bible

I said: “You have reached the hill country of the Amorites, which the LORD our God is giving us.

King James Bible

And I said unto you, Ye are come unto the mountain of the Amorites, which the LORD our God doth give unto us.

---------------------------------------------

To all who have been called by the name of the Lord, who walk not by sight but by faith, to the heirs of the promise who now journey through a world that is not their final home—grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God our Father and of our Lord Jesus Christ. I write to you as a fellow pilgrim and servant of the gospel, not with lofty speech, but with a heart burning to encourage, strengthen, and stir your spirit through the living and active Word of God. Let us now give careful thought to the words spoken through Moses in Deuteronomy 1:20: “And I said to you, ‘You have reached the hill country of the Amorites, which the Lord our God is giving us.’”

This verse stands as a marker in the story of Israel, a moment of transition between promise and possession, between wilderness and inheritance. These are the words of a leader recalling what had already taken place—words rooted in the memory of a failed opportunity, a divine moment squandered by fear. Israel had come to the edge of the land God had sworn to give them. They had seen the hills, they had tasted the fruit, they had come face to face with the fulfillment of a promise spoken generations earlier to Abraham. And yet, at the brink of breakthrough, they drew back. Not because God was insufficient, but because their hearts were still enslaved by doubt.

Let us take hold of the spiritual weight in these words: “You have reached the hill country of the Amorites, which the Lord our God is giving us.” There is in this statement the mingling of two essential realities—the position of the people and the promise of God. First, Moses says, “You have reached.” They were not lost. They were not far off. They had arrived. The season of wandering was coming to its appointed end. The long road from Egypt through the wilderness had not been in vain. They had come to the very place that God had prepared for them. And yet, to reach a place is not the same as to possess it. They stood at the edge of promise but failed to enter, not because the enemy was greater, but because their faith was smaller.

How many of us have reached places that God has prepared, only to pause in fear? How many stand at the threshold of calling, opportunity, healing, or obedience, yet hesitate because the giants in the land appear larger than the God who brought us this far? The hill country of the Amorites was never meant to intimidate the Israelites—it was meant to confirm the faithfulness of the God who keeps His word. The presence of enemies did not nullify the promise; it only magnified the need for trust.

And so it is with us. We, too, have promises spoken over our lives—eternal promises grounded in the gospel, personal promises whispered to us in prayer, corporate promises for the Church to shine as a light in the darkness. We, too, have come to places where the road behind was hard, but the land ahead is full of fruit—and full of foes. And the question that meets us at these thresholds is the same: Will we trust the God who brought us here to bring us in? Or will we retreat into the wilderness of what is familiar, even if it is barren?

Hear again the words: “which the Lord our God is giving us.” The land was not a reward for their performance. It was not a prize for the deserving. It was a gift—a gracious, undeserved inheritance given by a covenant-keeping God. This is crucial to grasp: what God gives, we must receive by faith. The land was theirs by divine decree, but it would not be theirs in experience until they stepped forward in obedience. God gives—but we must take hold. He offers—but we must trust. He leads—but we must follow.

This moment in Deuteronomy is not merely about ancient geography—it is about spiritual posture. It teaches us that we can come right up to the place of promise and still miss it if our hearts are ruled by fear instead of faith. It is possible to know God’s will, to hear His word, to stand on the edge of fulfillment, and yet turn back. This is why the writer of Hebrews warns us not to harden our hearts, as the people did in the wilderness, but to mix the word with faith and enter into the rest of God.

Beloved, where are you now? What hill country has God brought you to? What step of faith lies before you that requires trust in a God who has never failed but who often calls us to face what feels impossible? Maybe you are standing before a call to ministry, or a reconciliation that requires humility, or a vision that exceeds your resources, or a surrender that stretches your will. Know this: the same God who brought Israel to the edge of Canaan is the One who walks with you now. The same power that parted the Red Sea is the power that will drive out every Amorite, every giant, every obstacle that stands between you and God’s purpose.

Do not be content with merely reaching the hill country. Possess it. Step forward. Trust again. The land may look intimidating, but it is the Lord who gives it. And if He gives it, He will also give you the strength to claim it. Refuse to be ruled by fear. Refuse to let yesterday’s failures define today’s decisions. Let the Word of God rise in you again. Let courage be born in your spirit, not because of your sufficiency, but because of His faithfulness.

And let us not forget: the call was not just to individuals, but to a people. This promise was corporate. The land was to be shared. So it is today. Let us not press forward alone. Encourage your brothers and sisters. Strengthen the weak. Pray for the hesitant. Speak life over the discouraged. The hill country is for the people of God together. The Church is called to inherit—not just in eternity, but in time—to take ground in the culture, in the nations, in the neighborhoods, in every place where darkness still reigns. We are the people whom God has brought to the edge of the promise. Let us not shrink back.

And so, my beloved, let us rise with faith. Let us take courage. Let us look not at the height of the hills or the size of the enemies, but at the faithfulness of the One who has called us. He has brought us here. He has spoken the word. He is giving us the land. May we not die in the wilderness of hesitation, but live in the fullness of His promise.

-----------------------------------

O Sovereign Lord, Everlasting God, the Rock of our salvation, the Keeper of covenant and mercy for those who love You and obey Your commands, we come before You today in the name of Jesus Christ, our Redeemer and Deliverer. You are the One who led Israel through the wilderness, who went before them in a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night, who never left nor forsook them, even in their fear and weakness. We lift our voices to You in reverence and dependence, meditating now upon Your holy word in Deuteronomy 1:20, where it is written: “I said to you, ‘You have reached the hill country of the Amorites, which the Lord our God is giving us.’”

Lord, we come to this verse not merely to remember ancient history, but to hear a present call. You are still speaking through the words You gave to Moses, and we receive them today as a people who also stand at the edge of promise. Just as You brought Israel to the hill country, to the very threshold of what You had long promised, so too You bring us to places of decision, of invitation, of faith. And just as they heard the word, so must we hear it again: “The Lord your God is giving it to you.”

O Lord, You are the God who gives. You gave the land, not because Israel earned it, not because they were numerous or mighty, but because You are faithful to Your covenant and abundant in mercy. So we bow before You, confessing that we too have come this far not by our strength, not by wisdom, not by human striving, but by Your grace. You have led us to this hill country—this place of decision, this place of potential, this place where faith must arise—and now we ask, O God, for the strength to step forward and not draw back.

How often, Lord, have we reached the edge of what You’ve prepared and faltered in fear? How many times have we stood before spiritual inheritance—before the promise of healing, of breakthrough, of purpose—and allowed the sight of opposition to silence the voice of faith? You brought Israel to the very place You intended to give them, and still they hesitated. They saw the height of the hills, the size of the cities, the strength of the Amorites, and they forgot the power of the One who brought them through the sea. And we confess, Lord, that we are no different. We see the difficulty and forget the promise. We see the challenge and lose sight of the faithfulness that carried us this far.

But today, O God, we ask You to stir our hearts. We pray for a fresh outpouring of courage—not courage rooted in ourselves, but in the unchanging character of our God. You do not lead us to places of promise only to abandon us. You do not bring us to the edge of blessing and then ask us to return to bondage. You are not a God of partial fulfillment. What You begin, You complete. What You promise, You perform. So we say, Lord, help us to trust You more than we fear the obstacles. Help us to believe that You are greater than the giants in the land, that Your presence is stronger than every fortress, that Your word is more certain than any report of men.

We pray for the faith to act. For the Israelites, reaching the hill country was not the final step—it was the moment before the step. It was the call to cross over, to possess, to take hold of what had already been given. We ask You, Lord, to help us do the same. Let us not be satisfied with reaching the edge. Let us not dwell in sight of the promise, always talking about it, singing about it, dreaming about it—but never entering it. Let us not grow old in the wilderness of indecision, always rehearsing regrets, always circling the same mountains. Give us boldness, Lord, to move forward.

Father, we also ask for ears to hear Your voice above every other. The voices of fear will always speak. The reports of opposition will always be loud. But You, Lord, speak truth. You say, “I am giving it to you.” You do not say, “Try to take it if you can,” but, “Receive what I am giving.” Help us to receive—to believe, to obey, to move. Let us not be hardened by unbelief. Let us not look back to Egypt when Canaan lies ahead. Let us not complain about the giants when You have promised victory.

We pray for the Church today, O God—for Your people in every place who are reaching the edge of new things. So many are being brought to the hill country: pastors called to new depths of preaching and shepherding, families called to trust You through loss, young believers called to rise in purity and purpose, saints called to stretch beyond comfort into obedience. May we all hear the same call: “The Lord our God is giving it to us.” May we not shrink back as those who perish, but press forward as those who believe and are saved.

Let this word shape our prayers, our decisions, our conversations, and our obedience. Let us speak as those who know our God is able. Let us live as those who know the land belongs to Him, and He gives it to whom He chooses. Let us walk not as spiritual wanderers, but as inheritors. Let the dry seasons of wilderness give way to fruitfulness in the land of promise. Let the delay end where obedience begins.

And if we must wait, help us to wait in faith. If we must fight, let us fight with assurance. If we must sacrifice, let us do so with joy. For we know, O Lord, that Your plans are good, and Your promises are sure. The land You bring us to is not always easy, but it is always filled with purpose. And wherever You lead, You go with us. The hill country may be high, the enemies may be many, but our God is greater, our inheritance is secure, and Your word will not return void.

So we say today: we have reached the hill country. Lord, give us strength to take hold of what You are giving. Let us cross over. Let us believe. Let us obey.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the greater Joshua, the Captain of our salvation, we pray. Amen.