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When Allegiance Costs Belonging

  Exodus 12:7, 12–13 (ESV) “Then they shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it… For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night… The blood shall be a sign for you… And when I see the blood, I will pass over you.” The blood on the doorposts was not only an act of obedience — it was a visible break in belonging. For Egyptians who feared the LORD, applying the blood meant leaving behind national identity, religious tradition, and social safety. It marked their households as no longer fully Egyptian. Obedience required a loss of belonging. Silence was not safer. To remain unmarked in order to preserve acceptance was to choose death. Faith that stayed hidden did not protect lives — it exposed them. Obedience, costly as it was, chose life. That night, belonging to Egypt and allegiance to God could not coexist. For Israel, the command carried a different but equally serious weight. They had been protected thr...

The Hardest Surrender

  Exodus 11:4–6 (ESV) “So Moses said, ‘Thus says the LORD: About midnight I will go out in the midst of Egypt, and every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die… There shall be a great cry throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there has never been, nor ever will be again.’” This final plague strikes at the deepest place of human attachment: our children. Egypt’s firstborn represented legacy, future, security, and hope. They were the most guarded, the most cherished, the least imaginable loss. This is why the final plague is so devastating — not because God delights in pain, but because it reveals what has been held most tightly outside of His care. For parents, this story lands in the gut. There are many things we may be willing to surrender to God — time, plans, resources — but our children feel untouchable. Love tells us to protect them at all costs. Fear tells us that if we let go, everything could fall apart. Yet Exodus reveals a hard truth: what we refuse to entrust ...

When the Lights Go Out

  Exodus 10:21 (ESV) “Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Stretch out your hand toward heaven, that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt, a darkness to be felt.’” This plague is different from the others. It brings no noise, no destruction, no immediate physical pain — only darkness. And not ordinary darkness, but a darkness that can be felt . The people cannot see one another. They cannot move about. Life comes to a standstill. This darkness directly confronts Egypt’s trust in Ra, the sun god — the source of light, life, and order in their worldview. When Ra fails, everything collapses. What the Egyptians trusted to give them clarity and meaning offers nothing at all. This is not just a challenge to a false god; it is a revelation of reality. Light does not come from creation. It comes from God alone. When God withdraws His sustaining presence, darkness is what remains. The darkness reveals what life is like apart from Him — disorienting, isolating, paralyzing. Pharaoh ...

When We Try To Negotiate With God

  Exodus 10:8–11 (ESV) “So Moses and Aaron were brought back to Pharaoh. And he said to them, ‘Go, serve the LORD your God. But which ones are to go?’ Moses said, ‘We will go with our young and our old. We will go with our sons and daughters and flocks and herds, for we must hold a feast to the LORD.’ But he said to them, ‘The LORD be with you, if ever I let you and your little ones go! … No! Go, the men among you, and serve the LORD.’ And they were driven out from Pharaoh’s presence.” Pharaoh no longer outright refuses to obey God. Instead, he negotiates. He offers obedience with limits. Worship is allowed—but only on his terms. Only the men may go. Families, children, and possessions must stay behind. What sounds like compromise is actually control. By keeping part of the people back, Pharaoh keeps leverage and ensures that true freedom is never possible. God has never asked for partial obedience. From the beginning, the command has been clear: all the people are to go. Pha...

Power That Waits

  Exodus 10:1–2 (ESV) “Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Go in to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the heart of his servants, that I may show these signs of mine among them, and that you may tell in the hearing of your son and of your grandson how I have dealt harshly with the Egyptians and what signs I have done among them, that you may know that I am the LORD.’” At first reading, these words can sound unsettling. It can seem as though God continues the plagues simply to display His power, as though suffering is being prolonged for the sake of a dramatic story told to future generations. But when this passage is read alongside everything that has already unfolded, a different message emerges. God has repeatedly warned before acting. He has given opportunities to respond. Egyptians who feared the word of the LORD listened and were spared. Repentance changed outcomes. Choice was always present. This tells us that the story being passed down is not one of terror, but of re...

When Peace Reveals Allegiance

  Exodus 9:34 (ESV) “But when Pharaoh saw that the rain and the hail and the thunder had ceased, he sinned yet again and hardened his heart, he and his servants.” In the middle of the storm, Pharaoh admits his sin. He acknowledges that he is in the wrong. He asks Moses to pray and promises to let the people go. His words sound sincere, and in the moment of crisis, he appears humbled. But when the plague ends and relief comes, his heart hardens again. The confession does not last beyond the discomfort. This is an uncomfortable mirror. How often do we come to God in the middle of hardship begging for relief, promising faithfulness, surrender, or obedience if God will only take the pain away? In the pressure of suffering, we recognize our limits and God’s authority clearly. But when life stabilizes and the crisis passes, it is easy to reclaim control, soften our urgency, and quietly step back into self-reliance. Pharaoh’s problem is not that he confesses sin — it is that he neve...

Power Restrained by Love

  Exodus 9:15–16 (ESV) “For by now I could have put out my hand and struck you and your people with pestilence, and you would have been cut off from the earth. But for this purpose I have raised you up, to show you my power, so that my name may be proclaimed in all the earth.” By this point in the story, God has already demonstrated that He is greater than Pharaoh and Egypt’s gods. The magicians are incapacitated. The signs can no longer be copied. God’s superiority is not in question. Yet instead of ending Pharaoh’s life and stopping the suffering immediately, God explicitly says He has chosen not to do so. At first, this is deeply unsettling. Instant death would seem more merciful than prolonged suffering. But God reframes what “power” means in this moment. His power is not shown by how quickly He destroys His enemies, but by how deliberately He restrains Himself. God acknowledges that annihilation is within His ability — and then names His choice not to use it. Pharaoh is ...