Today’s Reading: Exodus 1-4 & 1 Chronicles 6
There are moments when life seems to change direction before you’ve even had time to decide how you feel about it.
Yesterday was one of those days.
I learned that a new season may be beginning in an area of my life that has already carried a lot of uncertainty.
Some parts of it felt exciting.
Some parts felt almost invigorating.
And some parts immediately made my brain start doing what my brain does best:
But what about this?
What happens to them?
What if this happens?
Can I even do this?
Do I want to do this?
Do I have a choice?
You know.
Just a casual 47-tab browser opening in my head.
😂
There are people I care about.
Relationships I don’t want to lose.
Things I have worked incredibly hard for.
Decisions I have made that I still believe were right, even when the consequences of making them haven’t always felt good.
And suddenly, all of those things seemed to collide at once.
But underneath the questions, something else was still there.
Peace.
Not certainty.
Not answers.
Not some miraculous understanding of exactly what happens next.
Just that same quiet sense I have been noticing throughout this journey:
Keep going.
Keep doing what you believe is right.
Keep checking your heart.
Keep giving back what was never yours to carry.
And trust God with the rest.
I Think I’m Finally Understanding Surrender Differently
For a long time, I think I understood surrender as almost passive.
Give it to God.
Let it go.
Stop worrying.
Which sounds wonderful.
Until you are dealing with something that actually requires you to make decisions.
Because sometimes there is something you need to do.
Sometimes you need to speak.
Sometimes you need to set a boundary.
Sometimes you need to make the uncomfortable decision.
Sometimes you need to protect something.
Sometimes you need to walk through a door without knowing exactly what is waiting on the other side.
So maybe surrender isn’t doing nothing.
Maybe surrender is learning what belongs in my hands and what belongs in God’s.
My intentions?
Mine.
My choices?
Mine.
How I treat people?
Mine.
Whether I act with integrity?
Mine.
Whether I tell the truth?
Mine.
Whether I keep trying to do the next right thing?
Mine.
How someone else responds?
Not mine.
What someone thinks about me?
Not mine.
Whether someone misunderstands my intentions?
Not mine.
Every possible thing that could happen three months from now?
Definitely not mine.
And somehow, I keep having to learn that last one.
Then I Started Exodus
After spending so much time in Job, beginning Exodus tonight almost felt like walking into a completely different lesson.
Job spent so much of his story asking:
Why is this happening?
He wanted answers.
He wanted to understand something he simply could not see from where he was standing.
And by the end, I kept coming back to the same realization:
Job didn’t know the ending while he was living the middle.
Neither do we.
But then I opened Exodus.
And almost immediately, the question seemed to change.
It wasn’t only:
Can you trust God when you don’t understand what is happening?
Now it was:
Can you move when God asks you to move even though you still don’t know how everything is going to work out?
Enter Moses.
Moses Had Questions Too
When God calls Moses, Moses doesn’t exactly respond with overwhelming confidence.
He asks:
Who am I?
Then:
What if they don’t believe me?
Then:
What am I supposed to say?
Then:
But I’m not good at speaking.
And eventually, essentially:
Could You please send somebody else?
Honestly?
Relatable.
Because I think sometimes we imagine faith looking like absolute confidence.
God opens the door.
We recognize it immediately.
We confidently walk through it.
No fear.
No questions.
No hesitation.
Cue inspirational music.
Except that isn’t what happens with Moses.
He questions himself.
He questions whether people will believe him.
He focuses on what he thinks he lacks.
He can see approximately 900 reasons this could go badly.
And God’s answer keeps bringing him back to something much simpler.
I will be with you.
Not:
Moses, here is a detailed explanation of every single thing that will happen.
Not:
Here is proof that nobody will misunderstand you.
Not:
Here is a guarantee that this will be comfortable.
Just:
I will be with you.
And after the last few weeks, that hit differently.
Maybe I Don’t Need the Whole Map
I have written some version of this sentence so many times now:
I don’t need the whole map.
Apparently I need to keep writing it until my brain finally accepts it.
Because I still want the map.
I would actually appreciate the map very much.
Preferably color-coded.
With timelines.
And maybe a small section explaining exactly how everyone involved is going to behave.
Thanks, God.
But that doesn’t seem to be how this works.
Moses receives direction for what comes next.
Job receives perspective without getting every answer.
And I keep being brought back to today.
What is actually in front of me?
What decision needs to be made now?
What belongs to me today?
Maybe faith isn’t seeing the entire road.
Maybe faith is trusting God enough to take the next step while part of the road is still hidden.
But Then I Had Another Thought
While I was going through my devotional tonight, another thought came back to me.
It isn’t the first time I’ve had it during this journey.
And I’m still figuring out exactly how to put it into words.
But sometimes, when I pull far enough back from everything, life almost seems incredibly complicated and incredibly simple at the same time.
We are born.
We experience things.
We make choices.
Those choices have consequences.
We learn.
We grow.
We make more choices.
Some seasons are beautiful.
Some hurt.
Some things happen because of decisions we made.
Other things happen that we never chose at all.
Job certainly taught me that.
And through all of it, we keep becoming someone.
That may be the part I haven’t thought enough about before.
Who am I becoming through the choices I make while I am here?
Maybe Faith Is Formation
I used to think about growth mostly in terms of circumstances.
Did the problem get better?
Did the situation resolve?
Did the thing I prayed for happen?
Did the door open?
Did everything work out?
But maybe those aren’t the only ways to measure what God is doing.
Because sometimes the circumstances haven’t changed yet.
But you have.
The same thing happens, and you respond differently.
Something scares you, but you interrupt the fear faster.
Someone hurts you, and instead of immediately reacting, you stop.
You pray.
You notice.
You ask what is actually yours to carry.
You make a decision you know may not make everyone happy because you believe it is the right one.
You let yourself rest when your body and brain are telling you they have had enough.
You admit when you don’t know.
You stop demanding that tomorrow give you answers today.
You still feel the fear.
You just don’t automatically hand it the steering wheel anymore.
Maybe that is growth.
Not becoming someone who never struggles.
Becoming someone who struggles differently.
Our Choices Matter – But Grace Matters Too
I want to be careful here.
Because when I first started thinking about all of this, my brain wanted to make it very simple:
Follow God.
Make good choices.
Grow.
Live a good life.
Eventually return to Him.
And if we make the wrong choices or turn away from God, everything goes the other direction.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that can become too simple.
Because if getting everything right were the requirement, we would all be in trouble.
I certainly would be.
😂
The Bible isn’t filled with perfect people who consistently made perfect choices.
It is filled with people who failed.
Questioned.
Ran.
Doubted.
Disobeyed.
Got scared.
Tried again.
And needed grace.
Moses himself is standing in front of God in tonight’s reading explaining all the reasons he is probably the wrong person.
And God is still working with him.
Maybe following God isn’t about earning our way toward Him by making enough perfect decisions.
Maybe it’s about allowing Him to keep forming us through the decisions we make, the mistakes we survive, the grace we receive, and the things we learn along the way.
We All Live in the Unknown
I also realized something tonight.
I have spent a lot of this journey trying to become more comfortable with the unknown.
But faith doesn’t remove the unknown.
I still don’t know what happens next.
I don’t know exactly what this new season will look like.
I don’t know which people will remain part of it.
I don’t know which doors will open.
I don’t know which ones will close.
I don’t know whether some of the things I currently fear will ever happen at all.
God hasn’t removed the unknown.
Maybe He’s changing what I do inside of it.
Instead of controlling:
Surrender.
Instead of predicting:
Notice.
Instead of solving every possible future:
Today.
Instead of needing the whole map:
The next right step.
Instead of:
I have to figure this out.
Maybe:
God, show me what is mine.
And then:
Lord, take control of the rest.
Maybe This Is a New Season
I keep encountering this idea of a new season.
A page turning.
A door.
Something changing.
And I still don’t know what that means.
Maybe some of it is simply because my circumstances really are changing.
Maybe some of it is because I am changing.
Maybe the new season isn’t only something waiting for me on the other side of a door.
Maybe part of the new season is the person walking toward it.
A person who still has questions.
Still gets scared.
Still spirals sometimes.
Still wants the map.
Still occasionally opens all 47 tabs.
But also someone who is learning:
I don’t have to carry everything.
I don’t have to know everything.
I don’t have to convince everyone.
I don’t have to control what comes next.
I can make the best decision I know how to make.
I can check it against what I am learning about God’s heart.
I can act with integrity.
I can correct myself when I’m wrong.
I can keep growing.
And then I can surrender the outcome.
Maybe faith doesn’t mean the circumstances suddenly become clear. Maybe the circumstances haven’t changed yet. Maybe you have.
Questions I’m Leaving With
What is actually mine to carry in this season?
Am I asking God to change my circumstances when He may also be changing me through them?
Can I take the next right step without knowing where the entire road leads?
Who am I becoming through the choices I make when life feels uncertain?
And maybe the biggest one:
What if growth isn’t always visible in what is happening around me, but in what is changing within me?
Today’s Takeaway
Yesterday brought change.
It brought questions.
It brought uncertainty.
It brought some things that genuinely excited me and others that made my brain immediately race toward tomorrow.
And I still don’t know exactly how I feel about all of it.
Maybe I don’t need to yet.
I just finished Job, where I learned again and again that I cannot see the entire story from the chapter I am standing in.
And now I’ve met Moses, standing at the beginning of his own next chapter with approximately as many questions as I have.
God didn’t hand him the entire map.
He gave him something better:
His presence.
Maybe that’s enough for tonight.
I don’t know exactly where this new season leads.
I don’t know what will change.
I don’t know what will stay.
But I know what I can do.
Keep noticing.
Keep learning.
Keep checking my heart.
Keep choosing what I believe is right.
Carry what is mine.
Release what isn’t.
And take the next step.
Because maybe faith doesn’t mean the circumstances suddenly become clear.
Maybe the circumstances haven’t changed yet.
Maybe you have.
And maybe that’s exactly how the next chapter begins.
Until next time… Keep noticing.