Have you read the story of how God rescued the Israelites from their heavy yoke of slavery? How God called out to Moses from a burning bush, informing Moses that he would be the one to deliver the Israelites from Egypt? It was only after God sent plague after vicious plague, ending with the death of Pharaoh’s first-born, that Pharaoh relinquished and released the Israelites.
God brought the Israelites out of Egypt, guiding them by cloud during the day and fire by night. Pharaoh changed his mind (actually, God changed it for him!) and pursued the Israelites, finding them camped out by the Red Sea.
“It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert.” (Ex 14:12 NIV).
Can you just picture them? The water from the sea licking their backs, the approaching Egyptians armed for battle? Scared for their lives, yet that’s what spews from their lips? Complaints??
It’s beyond me.
Yet, God rescues them again. With a mighty wind, He pushed back the waters so that the Israelites crossed over on dry land, a wall of water on both sides. When the Egyptians followed them into the sea, the water fell back and crushed them.
The Israelites went on their merry way, praising and fearing God.
For three days anyway.
When they didn’t find water, they grumbled. God provided water. For lack of meat, they grumbled. God sent manna and quail.
What was wrong with these people? How could they complain? They witnessed God’s miracles firsthand every day. Miracles like the parting of the Red Sea. Water from a rock. Just enough manna to provide for their daily needs.
I’m quick to point my finger and say I would never do that.
I’m hanging my head right now because just like these Israelites, I witness God’s miracles every day. Miracles in the form of a loving and supportive hubby, an income, a beautiful home, a family we cherish.
Yet what spews from my mouth? Complaints.
We arrived home from Denver late yesterday. Usually Hubby’s pretty good about helping me unload the suitcases. Not last night. He toted them upstairs, left the packed bags in the bedroom, then planted his tush on the recliner in front of a blaring television.
I fumed. I huffed. Resentment broiled.
Then, God convicted my lousy little heart this morning with this story from Exodus.
How many blessings does my husband pour out for me everyday? He uses his vacation time to attend book signings with me. He brainstorms blog posts and story lines with me. He encourages me to adjust my schedule so he can help with chores like lawn care and groceries, so that I can devote more time to writing. And techie issues? He’s my man! He’s my biggest fan, my loudest encourager, my best friend.
Yet I complain.