The beginning of the book of Exodus is hard not to enjoy. With the burning bush, the Nile turning to blood, the dramatic exit through the Red Sea, what's not to love? With so many big events, it's easy to miss the details. Details like the fact that most of the main characters in the first two chapters are women. Each one of them acts in the interest of children, even when their own safety is threatened. Without these five women, Israel's story of redemption doesn't happen. Without these five women, Moses doesn't survive the infanticide occurring in Egypt, and there is no leader to be God's instrument of deliverance.
At the first snow of manna in Exodus 16, God introduces His people to a Sabbath day. Two-and-a-half months after leaving their former slave drivers, God's people hear an odd command from their new Master—rest.
Though we might not be slaves, our present culture prizes productivity so highly that taking a day off also sounds absurd. "Maybe God meant take a rest from my normal work and do a different kind of work. I can't just waste time."
To be honest, this is exactly how I think. If making to-do lists was a viable hobby, it would be mine. I treat productivity like a sport, seeing if I can beat my previous record of tasks completed in one day. Sad but true.
I see my generation on the other side of their childhood dreams, entering their 30s somewhat disillusioned. For some working 9-to-5 jobs, the greatest success is keeping the bills paid and the boss happy. For many moms, the biggest accomplishment of the week is a clean kitchen and 15 minutes of Bible reading. Others did some "great" things for God right after college... 2 year mission trips, interning in a ministry, striving to hit it big as a [fill-in-the-blank-with-ministry-job], but seeing that work dwindle they are wondering what's next. So much for changing the world for Jesus.
Spiritual gifts and noble desires sit on the shelf unused, itching to find an outlet to prove their effectiveness while whispers of what could have been hang in the air.
I want to pose a very important question. A question my soul needs answered every day. Does God want us to do something great for Him?
The amount of information available to us each day is overwhelming. While often helpful, the sheer amount of books, blogs, articles, and Pinterest ideas often clutter the only information that is truly life-giving: God’s Word. It's a hard choice, to pick up your Bible, old and unchanging as it is, when a world of new and fresh info is being put out as fast as you can hit refresh. The continual presentation of new articles and information (just one click away) can suck you in for hours before you know what hit you.
Do you feel distant from God? Do you feel at odds with Him? Do you desire to draw closer to Him? There is one mediator between you and God. It’s not your favorite author. It’s not a book or Bible study. It’s not your pastor, your counselor, your friend, or your parents. For there is only one mediator between God and men, the man Jesus Christ, who gave Himself as a ransom for all. Your pastor or friend or favorite blogger have not given themselves as a ransom for you. Only One person has done that… the man Jesus Christ.
Do you have loved ones who are far from God and hope to see them reconciled to Him? Does it seem like it’s all up to you? Like you’re the only one in their life speaking truth and pushing them to God? Remember, there is one mediator between God and men, and it’s not you. You have no power to reconcile others to God. The best you can do is point to the man Jesus Christ who gave Himself as a ransom for all.
We're all pretty glory-hungry. We care deeply about what others think of us, or at least what the right people think of us. We want to be important, special, gifted, spiritual, unique, mature, wise, wealthy, popular, successful, and well-liked. We want to be made much of, to be glorified. Some of us might not want a ton of glory, only enough to make us feel better than the next person. Either way, we have a glory-seeking problem.
And into that glory-seeking world came a glory-forsaking God.
It doesn't matter how real God felt on the mountaintop, sooner or later we end up in the valley asking, "God, where are You?" This up-and-down faith journey is fairly common to all of God's people. One minute you're wondering how you could ever doubt God, and the next you're quite certain you've made it all up.
Though we'd like to avoid them, the valley seasons are good for our souls. They force us to walk in true faith, being assured of the God we hope in when He is not seen or felt. And like most things that are good for us, the valleys aren't very enjoyable. God has given many graces for the hard seasons of life (His Word and the community of other believers to name a couple), but there is one I rarely see embraced—rocks.
Most stages today aren't like the ones in your old high school auditorium. A stage can be anything that creates an audience for you. Twitter and Instagram, blogs and YouTube channels, websites and books are all forms of stages. Through these online avenues, you can now create your own audience with little to no risk at all. You don't have to stare people in the eyes from your stage. It can be a stage on your own terms.
In addition to the easy access to a stage, our culture celebrates audience building. Wowed by those who've made it to the top, many long to join the ranks of those vloggers and bloggers with millions of followers. But for those who follow the Jesus who taught us that true greatness is servanthood (Mark 10:43–45), is it ever okay to pursue a stage? To promote a blog? To write a book? To seek out new followers? If the stage is so dangerous for our hearts, how do we view platforms we might already have?
Being left out will always be a litmus test for pride. As soon as you realize you didn’t get the invite, you aren’t in the inner circle, or you are on the outside, one of two responses happen.
The first is the most common: hurt, disappointment, and/or anger. Under those surface feelings are deep roots of entitlement (a.k.a. pride). A feeling that you deserve to be included or that you have merited inclusion. Or that you are owed the opportunity to be included, assuming that it's the fair thing to do. But our God isn't fair, mercifully so (read more about that here). We live under grace and that changes the game.
To boil it down, being included is about being honored. Like the kids picked first for the kickball team, being chosen for any group is position of honor. No one wants to be last on the team, or worst of all, not picked at all. We want the places of honor.
God is unfair.
Matthew 20 forces us to deal with this hard reality. Though an equitable God who treats everyone with the same favor would be easier to handle, that's not our God. Jesus makes this clear as He tells this parable.
