“You took me out of Egypt, now take Egypt out of me.”

Oh my goodness, what a quote! I recently came across this quote from an unknown author on social media, and my oh my, how it resonated with me, especially given that I had just finished studying Exodus.

The NIV Study Application Bible says something very similar in the introduction to Leviticus:

“After Israel’s dramatic exit from Egypt, the nation camped at the foot of Mount Sinai for two years to listen to God. It was a time of resting, teaching, building, and meeting with him face to face. Redemption in Exodus is the foundation for cleansing, worship, and service in Leviticus.”

Just as the Israelites found themselves at the foot of Mount Sinai after their dramatic exit from Egypt, I imagine they may have wondered, “What now?” They had been delivered, but their new life was just beginning. Their deliverance became the foundation for learning what it meant to belong to God, worship Him, serve Him, and become holy, which is to be set apart for Him.

For the past year my youngest son has worn the song “Dusty Bibles” like armor; his baseball walk-up anthem and favorite shower hymn. The opening lyrics are engrained into my brain and I, too, catch myself singing them often. If you’ve never heard it, it’s a must listen. It goes like this:

“We got dust on our Bibles, brand new iPhones, and wonder why we feel this way…” (Yes, I’m singing as I type)

It’s a good song: catchy beat, grin-inducing chorus, the kind that makes you nod and sing along. I’m always proud of him for making a good song choice.

I walk from the kitchen to my desk, carrying a large bowl of Fruit Loops. Not a knockoff, but the real Kellogg’s, filled to the brim and swimming in skim milk. I enjoy cereal, though I try to reach for something I consider healthier. Today, I am not particularly concerned with making the better choice as my desire for something artificial and sweet is stronger than my restraint.

So Fruit Loops it is. (I sit and stare at the bowl in front of me, my journal open and pen ready, as I consider “repentance.)

A clean mop rests in a bucket of clear water, ready to glide across the floors and leave them bright. The house is mostly in its place: only a few small stacks of clutter remain in corners I’ve tolerated, a candle flickers on the table, and knickknacks sit in their assigned spots. The house has been carefully curated over time in my favorite traditional pieces.

Just the other day I sat with a single sheet of paper listing 40-50 sins and struggles, that had been photocopied and provided to me. Some raw and obvious, others not so much. I read each word slowly:

My alarm sounded at 6:17 a.m. Normally, I let my eyes rest for a few moments before reaching for my phone and falling into the same familiar rhythm: text messages, work email, work schedule, personal email, a quick scroll through social media, and then a glance at the local and national news. Every single day. In that order.

But this particular morning was different…

I sobbed until my body had nothing left. My face burned; my lashes stuck together; my hair remained greasy and fell in tangles, and the rim of my nose was raw and wet. It went on for days and quite honestly, still does at times. I couldn’t eat; sleep wouldn’t come. This physical response was evidentiary of my aching heart, an ache so deep it hollowed me out…