We live out our Christian lives in a place between Egypt and the Promised Land. We have been justified but not yet glorified—we have been delivered safely through the Red Sea but have not yet forded the Jordan and arrived on its far bank. We may not physically wander as did the Israelites of old and we may not actually follow pillars of fire and cloud, but we no less make a pilgrimage and we are no less dependent upon the goodness, the grace, and the guidance of our God. We are no less reliant upon his promises to sustain us when the path is uncertain, when our enemies rise up, when the way before us seems to stretch on interminably.
The Israelites were prone to doubt God—to doubt his strength, his power, his intentions. They were prone to doubt that he would prove true to his promises and lead them to the land that flowed with milk and honey, the land that would be their home and their rest.
In so many ways the story of the Pentateuch is the story of God proving his faithfulness over against his people’s faithlessness. It is for good reason
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