I Belong to You

This Sunday before we left for church, James and I were talking about crime rates in the city I grew up in, Memphis, Tennessee, which ironically has consistently been one of the nation’s top crime-infested cities. My sister and I weren’t allowed to go to the Mall of Memphis (“affectionately” nicknamed the Mall of Murder for the near daily deaths in the parking garage). We couldn’t play in the front yard without our parents present, and we could never be alone.

I remember my mom’s ritual of getting in and out of the car. We would exit out the door of our home with the garage door down. After we were settled in the car, my mom would lock the doors before raising the garage door and backing out. Similarly, when we returned home, she wouldn’t unlock the car until the garage door was down. Just as I had done earlier, she would lock and set the alarm on her car, head inside, lock and deadbolt the door, and set the alarm on our house. (Our house alarm had a tap or break alert, so it would go off if glass broke or a door or window opened.)

We went through so much effort – but for what? To protect what? A couple of TV’s and furniture? Our clothes? Sure, I know a large part of it was to protect us, but we took all of these precautions when we weren’t home. These steps were imprinted in my brain to protect our possessions.

If someone asked me what the most precious thing in my life was, what would my answer be? Without hesitation, it’s my personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Hands down. No questions asked. That thought led me to another question:

Do I go to as many great lengths to protect my walk with Christ as I do my “stuff?” And if I don’t, what are my true priorities?

It hurt me to think I’ve been more careful protecting our Wii than the royal position I have inherited as an adopted child of God. Instead of placing locks, barriers and alarms on the priceless gift of my salvation in Jesus Christ, I have spent more of my life trying to figure out exactly where the boundaries of sin were so I could go as far as I possibly could without crossing over to Satan’s side.

Would I ever be careless with my material possessions? Would I leave the doors to my car wide open in the Target parking lot with my iPod in the passenger seat? Would I go out of town for a week with my home’s garage door open and doors unlocked? Of course not.

Bottom line: My life should be spent trying to be as close to God and His holiness as possible. Think of balancing on a tightrope that is the boundary between God and Satan. You’ve got a good chance to fall either way.

I went to church feeling pretty down on myself. Here I am – in seminary, a pastor’s wife, pretty much a professional Christian – and I’m still consistently looking for the bare minimum. As if she could read my mind, Ashley Nelson shared a line she heard on a television show: “Feeling inadequate has a universal zip code.” She summed up my morning.

It’s true. Everywhere you turn, you can find a woman who doesn’t think she’s skinny enough, a man who doesn’t think he makes enough money, a college guy trying to figure out who he is without his high school football team, or a girl who just knows that if she makes one B, she’ll never get into graduate school.

But for us, it doesn’t end there.

Ashley went on to say, “But God loves us and works in us regardless of our perceived inadequacies." She sang a beautiful song called “I Belong” by Kathryn Scott based on Romans 8:35-39. (To listen: http://www.independentbands.com/cd/kathrynscott.html)

Not angels, nor demons, no power on earth or heaven.
Not distance, nor danger, no trouble now or ever.

Not hardship, nor hunger, no pain or depth of sorrow.
Not weakness, nor failure, no broken dream or promise.

Nothing can take me from your great love.
Forever this truth remains.

I belong, I belong to You.
I belong, I belong to You.

As she sang, God reminded me of two things:

First, Jesus commanded us to be perfect. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). Instead of barely trying to get by in our Christian walk, we should “walk as Jesus did” if we claim to live in Him (1 John 2:6). We should put up barriers to protect us against temptation and sin. I belong to Him, and I should act like it.

Now, this is not the pop Christian belief. In fact, in today’s world, making the statement I did above will categorize me as a legalist or a fundamentalist. I’m saying that everything about Christians - our language, our behavior, our dress, our habits – should look different from the world. If there’s a chance that a movie or going to a certain place could possibly interfere with what God is doing in our lives, our guard should be up to protect what is most valuable.

Secondly, He reminded me that I’m not perfect. I will slip. I will find myself on that tightrope. But no matter what, I still belong to Him - because I have confessed with my mouth that Jesus is Lord and believed in my heart that God raised Him from the dead (Romans 10:9).

Ask yourself these questions today:

Do you belong to Him?

Can others tell that you belong to Him?

Do you value that you belong to Him?

Because I Love You

Humbling moments. We all have them. Whether they come at the perfect time or couldn’t occur at a worse moment, it is in our most humble moments that we sometimes get the best perspective.

My latest humbling moment - and they DO happen frequently – took place this morning. This is going to be an extremely busy semester, and I’ve been trying to mentally prepare for it since around Thanksgiving. Frantically attempting to cram our crazy life into seven 24-hour days looked as jumbled in my planner as it felt in my mind.

Full-time job, pastor’s wife, seminary student, fitness coach…where does it all fit? Not to mention my husband’s insane schedule. James and I don’t even have kids in the mix (unless you count the 70+ in the college ministry), and we already feel time collapsing around us. I can hear the same advice I’ve heard from a million sources in my life echo in my head: “Your life will never be any easier than it is right now.”

That advice makes me sick to stomach.

I think I have equal respect and resentment for the women in my life who have modeled being a pastor’s wife well for me. How did they make it look effortless? As many times as I have seen this selfless life lived out through countless staff wives, (And as a pastor’s kid, I’ve even seen it in my own home), I never realized how challenging it is.

Most of them have full-time service-based jobs (teachers, nurses, secretaries, etc.), and come home to endless tasks including cooking, cleaning up after dinner, laundry, and helping kids with their homework. Maybe a couple in her husband’s ministry needs some counseling, so they might come over after the kids are asleep. Or she might cook a double recipe to take dinner to a church member who had a relative pass away. Finally, when her work is done, she lays down to sleep – only to get up the next day and do it all over again.

I never knew how exhausting it must have been for my mom to rush in from work, quickly change her clothes, and jump back in the car to take me wherever I needed to be next. I know there were a few times that I thanked her, but I know it wasn’t every time. Not even close.

I was sitting at my desk at work about to begin my next task when I saw I had a new email. It was from my mom, and the subject simply said: Because I love you! At the sight of my mom’s email address, I felt water form in my eyes. Speaking of incredible pastor’s wives, here’s the queen herself. I’m not sure that little girl in me will ever go away. My mother may have transitioned in my life to be one of my best friends, but she will still always be my mommy too.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the message and read:

My dear Michelle,

I know you and James are extremely busy right now. I wish I could just sneak in your house and clean it from top to bottom, get all the clothes washed and back in the closets and drawers, strip the bed and get fresh linens on it, go to the grocery store and get all your favorite foods and stock your refrigerator and pantry, gather up the trash and organize the garage, set the table and have the house filled with the aroma of a home cooked meal, fluff the pillows on the couch and have a bottled water sitting on the side table for both of you, have a few lamps lit and a candle burning and leave a note that reads, "Because I love you!"

Love,
Mom

My damp eyes turned to waterworks. Guilt washed over me as I realized the difference between me and the pastors’ wives I admire: Serving isn’t a responsibility to them. It’s not a task to be completed, a line to check off their to-do list. It’s a pleasure.

II Corinthians 9:6-15 says, “The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work. As it is written, “He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor;
His righteousness endures forever.” He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God. For the ministry of this service is not only supplying the needs of the saints but is also overflowing in many thanksgivings to God. By their approval of this service, they will glorify God because of your submission flowing from your confession of the gospel of Christ, and the generosity of your contribution for them and for all others, while they long for you and pray for you, because of the surpassing grace of God upon you. Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift!”

It isn’t my schedule that needs to change. It’s my heart. I am worthless on my own, but God can do all things through me. It’s not about people seeing what I am doing for others, or where I am serving or giving of my time – it’s about others giving recognition to the God I am serving.

My mom challenged me today to truly be Christ to those I am around – to serve as Jesus did. My prayer is that God will work through me, and no matter how big or small I am able to serve, rather than seeing a 24 year-old still seeking to grow in her faith, that a lost world will hear our Mighty God whisper, “Because I love you.”

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The Greatest Sacrifice

This is a story about a boy named Shay. Shay had a learning disability. He couldn't learn tasks like other children could. He not only struggled in the classroom, but with simple activities we take for granted like household chores, grooming habits, and childhood games. Despite his difficulties, Shay enjoyed life. One of his favorite routines was going on walks with his father.

One day on their walk, Shay and his dad came to a park where some boys Shay knew from school were playing baseball. As they approached the field, Shay looked up at his dad. "Dad, do you think they'll let me play?"

His father knew the majority of the boys would not want Shay on their team. However, his common sense was overpowered by the understanding that his son needed to feel like he belonged. If for some reason he was allowed to play, it would give him a feeling of acceptance, in spite of his handicaps, that nothing could replace. Trying not to get his hopes up, Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if it would be alright for his son to play.

The boy looked from Shay to his teammates for some sort of guidance. Finally, he said, "Well, we're losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team, and we'll try to let him bat before the game ends."

Shay awkwardly "ran" over the the team's bench, and with a huge smile on his face, put on one of the team shirts. His father tried to hold back his tears of joy, but he could not help but express his happiness. The boys on the team couldn't help but notice how much this small gesture meant to both Shay and his father.

During the eighth inning, Shay's team gained three runs. When they went back to the field, they gave Shay a glove and put him in the right field. No activity came his way, but Shay didn't care. He was so excited to be in the game, grinning and waving to his father in the stands, who waved back, just as enthusiastic.

Shay's team didn't let the other team score in the 9th inning and headed back to the batting cage. The team put Shay in the batting order. Shay's team scored another run, but they also got two more outs. With the bases loaded, the potential winning run and no room for error, was on base. Shay was up next to bat.

His father's heart sank a little as he realized Shay's team had no chance to win the game if Shay took his scheduled turn to bat.
The same boy who agreed to let him play handed Shay the bat, and guided him towards home plate. All of the boys knew a hit was impossible. Shay couldn't even hold the bat right. They could forget him actually connecting with the ball.

The pitcher for the other team realized that the other team was giving up the win for this moment in Shay's life. The pitcher moved a few steps closer so he could throw softer, in hopes that Shay would at least be able to hit the ball.

Shay swung clumsily and missed. Strike one.


The pitcher stepped even closer and tossed the ball softly. Shay swung too late. Strike two.

As the third and final pitch came, Shay swung at the perfect time, hitting a slow ground ball right back at the pitcher's feet.

Realizing the game was over, his father stood to cheer for his son, trying to be happy that Shay had made contact with the ball. As he did, he realized that the pitcher picked up the ball and threw the ball way over the first baseman's head.

Shane should have been out. The game wasn't over. But it wasn't. The boys on both teams and the crowds in the stands began yelling, "Run to first, Shay! Run to first!"

Shay had never ran that far, but he scampered down the baseline to first base. Once he got there, the instructions changed to, "Second base, Shay! Run to second!" Still trying to catch his breath, Shay struggled to the next base. Once he made it to that base, the right fielder, the smallest guy on the other team, had the chance to be the team hero.

Instead, the right fielder grinned, and through the ball as high as he could, way past third base. Without instruction this time, Shay took off for third base.

"All the way, Shay! All the way!" The crowd kept encouraging him to run home. "Home run, Shay!"

When Shay reached home plate, his teammates and the crowed cheered as if he had hit a grand slam to win the game for the team. His father could barely stand because of his joy. Shay was lifted off the ground on the shoulders of his teammates. He raised his fists in the air as he had only seen athletes do on television.

Shay didn't live to play baseball the next summer. He died that winter, but he never forgot the day he was a hero. He didn't understand that his victory was a gift, but everyone in the stands got a lesson that day on the blessing of sacrificial love.

I doubt that these elementary-aged boys were fully aware of what they did that day. At the very most, they realized they were potentially giving up winning a game. However, they also recognized they would have hundreds of more opportunities to win.

I doubt they recognized that Shay would never play another game. Or that for the rest of his short life, he would sleep with the baseball from that day in his arms. Or that his parents would be eternally grateful for the acceptance and normalcy their special son felt that day. Or that you and I would hear this story today, be touched, and be changed.

There is a much bigger story of sacrificial love. More powerful than the story of Shay.

There was a man named Jesus Christ. He was God's Son and had all of the same divine power and characteristics. Jesus didn't question His Father's authority as most children do. Instead, He denied Himself of all of his divine rights and lowered Himself to human form at His Father's command. God's plan included redemption for all who would accept the free gift of salvation. God's plan involved the sacrifice of His Son's life. Jesus did not rebel. He didn't run away. He didn't even pout. He responded out of obedience, put Himself through persecution and humiliation, and died a sinner's death on the cross.

I doubt the Roman soldiers and crowds knew that they were watching the death of the only One who could offer them life. Or that they were not murdering Jesus, but that He was willingly laying down His life. Or that His death would bring the acceptance for anyone who would believe in Jesus into the royal family of God to be adopted as sons. Or that the story of Jesus Christ would be the greatest story ever told, translated into more languages than any other book, and change lives indefinitely.

You and I are a lot like Shay. Just like he didn't deserve to get a home run that day, you and I don't deserve full acceptance into God's family. God is perfect. God does not change. He cannot be shaken. He cannot be stopped. We are sinful chameleons, trying to blend in wherever we are. Our faith shifts as easily as sand with a light breeze. Our strength has limitations. But God has the same love for the Shay's of the faith - those who want to be a part of His team, try, and fail repeatedly - as he does for those more like Shay's teammates - who come alongside those who are struggling and guide them towards Victory.

The radical love shown by Shay's teammates is rare in today's world, but it is the very love we are instructed to have as we follow the example of Jesus Christ.

"Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility, count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross" (Philippians 2:3-8).

Michelle's Christmas List: Faith Like A Child

Yesterday, James and I went to our sixth Christmas party in 8 days. I know school is out, but it seems like life hasn't slowed down yet. After work, I've rushed home, cooked something to take with us, hopped in the car, and headed out to that evening's Christmas destination.

Our Christmas parties are over, but the travels have just begun. I have a date with the laundry room tonight, then tomorrow, James and I work in the morning, pack in the afternoon, attend the Christmas Eve service, head home, load the car, and head for Tennessee. ETA? 3 a.m. The day after Christmas, we'll head to Knoxville to see my family, spend 2 days there, come back to his family's house for one more day, make the 10-hour drive back to Texas on New Year's Eve...where we are invited to two parties that night.

Don't get me wrong. We are both blessed with amazing family, friends and co-workers. Though it has been party overload, we enjoyed ourselves everywhere we went, and we can't wait to see our family in Tennessee. However, as I pulled out my calendar of the busy party week now behind us and our busy travel schedule ahead, I realized something was missing.

My third grade teacher was the first person to introduce me to a planner. We were only required to keep up with our homework assignments, but I also loved keeping track of important dates - holidays, birthdays, etc. That year, I remember drawing a birthday cake on December 25. On the top of the cake, I wrote in my best handwriting, "Happy Birthday, Jesus!"

This morning, fifteen years later, December 25 on my calendar was blank.

Feeling guilty, I pulled out my Bible. Fighting back tears, I opened to Luke 2.

In those days, a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. - Luke 2:1-6 (ESV)

Closing my eyes, I imagined Joseph and Mary traveling to Bethlehem from Nazareth...As I pictured the pain and rejection Joseph and Mary being turned away, the tears finally came. Not because of Joseph's humiliation in feeling like he could not provide for his family. Not because they had to sleep outside. Not because Mary had to give birth without any of her family present. Though that breaks my heart, my tears came because I realized that with this year's chaotic schedule, I'm every bit as guilty as every person that turned Joseph and Mary away. I haven't made room for Jesus either.

I've made every desert and appetizer known to man in the past 2 weeks. I've searched for perfect presents, spent way too much time creating crazy white elephant gifts, fought the mall & Super Wal-Mart, stood in countless lines, wrapped presents, decorated my Christmas tree, perfectly coordinated my schedule...but today was the first day that I've really taken time to reflect on the Christ of Christmas... outside of church.

Sure, I've had my quiet time. I've prayed. But even as a third grader, I had a better grasp of what it meant to celebrate the birth of our Lord, Jesus Christ. That year, my neighbor, who was Jewish, and I were playing outside.

"What are you doing tonight?" Rachel asked.

"We're decorating the Christmas tree!" I boasted proudly.

She looked at me with a blank stare. "What's a Christmas tree?"

My mouth dropped open. How could she not know what a Christmas tree was? "Come on!" I insisted, grabbing her hand. "I've already got one up in my room. I'll show you!"

We scurried up the stairs and into my bedroom to admire my tree (that couldn't have been more than two feet tall).

"It's pretty," she admitted. "But what's it for?"

Without hesitation, I began telling her everything I had learned in Sunday School - everything from the birth of God's son as a baby to His death on the cross and his promise to come back for those who believed in Him.

Rachel nodded along as I talked. We had forgotten to tell her parents where we were going, so it wasn't too long after my story that her mom showed up on our doorstep.

"Michelle showed me her Christmas tree, Mom," Rachel said. "How come we don't have a Christmas tree?"

I remember her mother taking Rachel by the hand and taking her out of our house without another word to me or my parents. Rachel wasn't allowed to come over to our house after that.

But I didn't know that I shouldn't tell her something that was different than what her parents taught her. I didn't know what it meant to be politically correct and religiously tolerant. I just knew that I was telling her the truth and that I wanted my friend to believe in Jesus.

In Matthew 18, the disciples asked who is the greatest in the kingdom of Heaven. Jesus called a child and put him in the midst of the disciples. "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3-4)

So this morning, I got my planner back out, dug some highlighters out of my desk, and began drawing a birthday cake on the square for December 25. I still have two days left before Christmas, and I'm not going to waste it. Sure, there will still be travels, presents, and family like before. But this year, I'm asking God for a Christmas present. I'll have to earn it, but I'll need His grace and blessing too.

This year, I want faith like a child.

Happy birthday, Jesus.

A Christmas Challenge

This sign is displayed next to a Christmas tree and nativity scene in the Capital Building in Olympia, Washington. The conservative response was not quiet. I couldn't help but become angry when I saw the sign. It doesn't stop at the atheist claim that God does not exist. It says that my personal relationship with Jesus Christ hardens my heart and enslaves my mind. I know Psalm 10:17 says that the Lord strengthens my heart. Romans 8:6 says, "For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace." God doesn't enslave my mind. He gives me peace.

I was not alone. Christians were outraged nationwide. Bill O'Reily called it "political correctness gone mad." The sign even disappeared within an hour of being put up. It was soon found in a ditch on the side of the road. A part of me even felt a little satisfaction when I found out it had been stolen.

However, my satisfaction soon turned to conviction.

Annie Laurie Gaylor, co-founder of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, said they would replace the sign with a new note saying, "Thou shalt not steal."

"I guess they don't follow their own commandments," Gaylor said.

Ouch.

Gaylor may be wrong in her beliefs about God, but she does have a point that this is not the way God would want His children to respond.

At today's fall graduation, Paige Patterson, president of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, made a fantastic observation. He said, "Isn't it interesting that atheists are so intimidated by the birth of a little baby that they have to put up a sign to refute it?"

What a great perspective. Newborns can't walk or talk. They can't survive if left to fend for themselves. What could possibly be threatening about a newborn baby to an organized group of adults who claim that there is nothing beyond our natural world?

The only answer is that they are afraid that the birth of Jesus Christ disproves everything they claim to believe. He is God Incarnate. He was prophesied throughout the Old Testament. He was born of a virgin conception. He lived a sinless life, died a voluntary death, rose again to conquer the grave, and ascended to prepare a place for us. He will intercede as our High Priest until He returns one day for those who profess Him as their Lord and Savior.

Philippians 2:1-12 says, So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

It is my prayer this Christmas that Christians will not get caught up in the culprits who try to "steal" Christmas, the cost of Christmas, or any other distraction. Rather, let the Christ of Christmas truly be the only focus this year.

God Doesn't Take Short Cuts

I was not a patient child. The classic “baby” of the family, I wanted 100% of the attention 100% of the time. One of the many embarrassing home videos of me is our family at Christmas the month before I turned three. With so many new toys, (not to mention all of the bubble wrap, bows, and boxes), I was making one breakthrough after another. I announced each discovery loudly, right into the camera.

I have to give my parents credit for their incredible patience with me, as I made sure they saw the new teddybear I unwrapped, all of my favorite candy in my stocking (each individual piece, I might add), and my first pair of “big girl” jeans. My sister tore into her present, having each gift unwrapped in about 2.5 seconds. Not me. I savored as much “screen time” as possible. Christmas must have lasted for six hours that year.

When my sister and I were finally done, my parents began to open their gifts. My dad got my mom a beautiful crystal candleholder set that year. As he helped her unwrap the individual pieces and match each candle to its appropriate holder, I grew restless. In the corner of the screen, you can see me desperately trying to find something that I hadn’t debuted to the camera yet.

Finally, I found something. I took off for my sister’s gift pile and lifted her new hairdryer in the air in victory. “You see, Mom?” I asked. No response. I tried again. “Mom, you see?”

It’s hard for me not to laugh as I watch my younger self’s patience wearing thin quickly. I called again, louder this time. “Mommy, you see this?” Nothing.

In a desperate final attempt, I stomped the ground, took a deep breath, and said, “Do you see, MARY RUTH?”
My mom’s mouth dropped at the sound of her first name from her two year old’s mouth. She and my dad immediately burst into laughter. “Yes, Miss Michelle,” my mom said, between giggles. “I see.” Satisfied, I placed the hairdryer down and went back to playing with my toys.

I’ve gotten older. It no longer tests my patience if my mom is unimpressed that I can lift a hairdryer. However, I still consistently battle responding impatiently toward those who love me most…especially my God.

In high school, I was impatient with God when he moved my family from Memphis to Knoxville. By the end of my senior year, I loved Knoxville so much that I stayed there for college. In college, my friends were surrounded with boyfriends while I remained unattached. Now, I am so grateful that I never gave my heart away before I met James. Why do I never learn that God’s plan is better than one I could ever imagine?

God’s people have a history of impatience with their Creator. After God delivered the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, Exodus 13:17-18 says, “When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was near. For God said, ‘Lest the people change their minds when they see war and return to Egypt.’ But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. And the people of Israel went up out of the land of Egypt equipped for battle.”

I’ve read over this passage dozens of times in my life, and I’ve always missed the depth of the meaning here. God didn’t take them to the nearest land. He didn’t want the quick fix to their problem. He wanted the best solution.

Naturally, the Israelites did not understand why they had to go through the wilderness. Numbers 14:1-4 says, “Then all the congregation raised a loud cry, and the people wept that night. And all the people of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The whole congregation said to them, "Would that we had died in the land of Egypt! Or would that we had died in this wilderness! Why is the LORD bringing us into this land, to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little ones will become a prey. Would it not be better for us to go back to Egypt?" And they said to one another, ‘Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt.’”

I admit it. I’m not exactly a fan of sleeping on the ground and traveling on foot all day. But I can’t imagine a camping trip so bad that I would want to go back being a slave. The Israelites had some growing up to do, and God knew it. Remember, the passage in Exodus said that God led them around by the way of the wilderness. He never left them. But He wasn't just concerned with their final destination. He was intentional about experiences they would encounter who would determine the people they were to become along the way.

Over Exodus 14-17, God provides the Israelites with one miracle after another. He divides the Red Sea to let the Israelites cross safely, and lets the waters crash back into the middle to drown the Egyptians' chariots and horsemen. (I hope heaven has HD DVR - I really want to see that!) He provides water, manna, and meat. He promises to protect them from disease if they obey His commands.

But how quickly the Israelites forget. After they affirm a covenant with God in Exodus 24, they turn right around in Exodus 32 to build a golden calf to worship instead of God. This is the point where the Israelites make me want to call them, "The Boneheads of the Bible." Seriously. How do you walk across dry land on the bottom of the sea with water held up on either side of you by an invisible force and days later, turn to doubt God?

It's the same way I can become impatient with where I am in life - even though God has proven Himself to me over and over again. At different times, I've wished life had a "Fast Forward" button. "God, can I just blink and be done with school? I mean, can't I just write a book and get it published without a degree?"

Imagine falling asleep in the car as someone else drove you to a party. You arrive and begin talking to people. Apparently, there was a huge construction project that caused massive delays on the Interstate. Everyone has a story about what they heard, and what they saw. You cannot relate, and you have nothing to contribute.

My experiences in life, though I may not have understood them at the time, have always prepared me for the next step God guided me to take. It is along life's journey that He teaches us truth, molds us to be more like Him, and gives us time to grow. I may not have made the Bible, but I'm just as much of a bonehead as any of the Israelites.

The prophet Nehemiah offers some explanation of the amazing and patient God we serve. Nehemiah 9:17, “They refused to obey and were not mindful of the wonders that you performed among them, but they stiffened their neck and appointed a leader to return to their slavery in Egypt. But you are a God ready to forgive, gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and did not forsake them.”

He didn't forsake them. He had a plan.

Sometimes, it may seem like God isn't paying attention. He doesn't notice that you can lift a hairdryer by yourself, and you think that justifies your ability for a better assignment than where He has you and His undivided attention. Don't let yourself grow so impatient that you miss it when God parts a Red Sea in your life. He is always at work. Expect delays, and learn from them.