Grateful for Egypt

Learn to be grateful for what got you to where you are today. Gratitude for past places and experiences has been one of the hardest, but most transforming, lessons for me.

You know Israel had a complicated history with Egypt before the Exodus. At the end of Genesis, we see them arriving there with a limp.

The nation is but a small family of 70 people and they’re struggling to survive a worldwide drought and famine. Not to mention, they're a bit divided relationally.

And yet, Egypt takes them in. In fact, Egypt gives them the “fat of the land” (Gen 45:18). Grace upon grace. Egypt is initially a place of rescue for the Israelites, a place of favor even. And it’s here, Israel flourishes and grows up as a nation (Gen 47:27; Ex 1:7).

“Egypt is initially a place of rescue for the Israelites, a place of favor even.”

In Egypt, they lived separate from the Egyptians in Goshen and were allowed to retain their distinct identity while allowing God to continue to form them. It was a gift to not be surrounded by pagan Canaanites, intermingling with their godless practices. Those days would come for Israel, but a strong faith and identity needed to be forged in them first.

And so it was in Egypt, this identity as God’s chosen people was deeply forged.

At the heart of this story is Joseph, one of the patriarchs — Abraham’s great-grandson and the son through whom God’s faithfulness continued to unfold. His journey from betrayal and slavery to influence in Pharaoh’s courts shows how even suffering can become soil for redemption. And on top of all this, Joseph was used mightily by God to help save the world. Egypt allowed him, even resourced him, to use his God-given gifts to help serve the world and build up others during a deep season of hardship. Imagine the sense of accomplishment this provided Joseph and his family. Imagine the depth of relationship that was likely formed during this season with so many people.

So much good happened to Israel during their stay in Egypt. Generations of families came and went. Jehovah’s name and fame spread right there in Goshen and beyond.

Now, of course, Israel’s time there ended in slavery and suffering, and that’s not to be overlooked or dismissed. But even that was used to further refine the nation and its identity all the while driving them to a greater dependence upon God (Ex 2:23-25).

All 400 years, the good years and the awful years, was setting the stage for God to use Israel as a platform to display His power, justice and faithfulness. And oh, how He did.

Learn to be grateful for what got you to where you are today.

Now, it's a stretch to apply this analogy directly, especially if you consider the timeline (400 years), the magnitude (an entire 2+ million person nation), or the range of experiences (ends in slavery). But the analogy can be instructive if we shrink it down to a right-sized analogy for our lives.

There are places, experiences, churches, people, leaders, moments, groups where we experienced incredible life-altering, soul-rescuing, identity-forming seasons of beauty and wonder and grace. Places and spaces where God utterly transformed us.

And then, in a moment or a season, we look up and we realize we can’t stay in the same place anymore, at least not without compromising who God is forming us to be.

Maybe, we’ve even been hurt by the same place and people where we once experienced God’s transforming grace. Or maybe we’re just stuck and no longer growing there. It becomes too soul-crushing to stay.

And yet, it feels too risky to leave.

“You can be grateful for what formed you, even if you had to leave it behind.”

The disorientation sets in. It’s hard. It drums up so many questions. And so few answers are provided.

What’s happening in me?
What will become of me?
My calling?
My identity?
My family?
My kids?

All the while, you feel God’s hand guiding you into the wilderness. But it’s still a foreign land, a scary place of discomfort and refinement. So don’t be surprised if you walk into it as a begrudging pilgrim, kicking and screaming a bit.

For not too far into the wilderness, the disorientation feels dark and heavy. You want to go back, but at the same time, you know you’re not supposed to go back. It’s in this moment, it becomes easy to focus on the ending and why you had to leave Egypt. It becomes easy to grow bitter and angry.

To be clear, a season of suffering or pain or betrayal is never to be dismissed or overlooked or to go unprocessed. Gratitude doesn’t mean you call evil 'good' (Is 5:20). It simply recognizes even in dark seasons, God can draw beauty from ashes (Is 61:3).

But it is okay, even right, to be able to look back while in the disorienting wilderness and give thanks for what God accomplished in your former land. You are not the same person today. You were formed and transformed through the various places and people you traversed life with.

“Not everything that shapes you is meant to stay with you.”

You can be grateful for all that has brought you to where you are today AND simultaneously know that what brought you here won’t be what Christ uses to keep transforming you from one degree of glory to another.

I encourage you to be grateful for seasons of previous transformation and the people and places God used to help bring about change in you.

And it’s okay, to not get stuck there too. A new promised land awaits. More goodness is around the corner. There are some lessons God only teaches in the wilderness. You don’t want to miss those lessons because you got bitter about being there in the first place.