Had we been in charge of the Red Sea project, we would have handled it differently. Our group of engineers would have pushed back that water a week in advance. We would have installed great, massive fans to dry out the land. We would have erected huge neon signs. Somebody would have brought in concession stands to handle the hot dogs and drinks. You see, when people do it, the project takes on all the trademarks of market-driven hotshots. The supernatural is easily eclipsed by human ingenuity.
That’s not God’s plan. When He wants you cornered, outnumbered. And there are no signs. There is no slick ad campaign. There are no great human resources to trust in. There’s just an uncrossable Red Sea and an encroaching army of impossibilities. So you wait. And time passes. He will fight His way at His time. Bite your nails all you want to—He’s in no hurry.
Do you feel cornered right now? Up against it? Overwhelmed? Listen, child of God, your predicament is by His design. It takes those dark and dreary streets of heartache and those dead-end feelings of intimidation to prepare you for the glorious days of deliverance.
Perhaps you’re a single adult. Those can be frustrating, hard years and lonely times. More than anything you’d like to find a spouse.
Or maybe you’re married. You can be so involved in making a living that you fail to make a life, and then the time is gone.
Or perhaps you feel backed into some physical cul-de-sac, where you’ve languished for weeks, months, maybe years . . . still in that wheelchair.
Listen carefully. Read this slowly. Coming to the Red Sea is just as much a part of His plan as crossing it. It may well be that the Lord is breaking a habit born in Egypt, a habit that has no business living in Canaan. Those habits are tough to break. The tears flow as God works in His time. But in the burning of those tears, God becomes very significant and real. And we realize, at last, that a predicament in God’s hands finally leads to a highway to the Promised Land.