Sometimes I realize that my story looks a lot like the story of the children of Israel.

God brought me out of a life of unmet needs, unfulfilled dreams, and neglect. He pulled me out of places that were empty and painful and began leading me toward something better—a life that was fuller, richer, and more abundant than anything I had known before. A life flowing with the milk and honey of His grace.

In the beginning, I praised Him loudly.
Just like the Israelites when they crossed the Red Sea.

I was grateful. I was free. I believed anything was possible because for the first time, I could see a future where my dreams might actually come true.

But then the waiting started.

The promises didn’t happen as quickly as I thought they would. The life I imagined didn’t appear overnight. And slowly, my heart began to look a lot like theirs in the wilderness.

Instead of trusting, I turned toward idols—things that I hoped would fill the space while I waited.
Instead of gratitude, I grumbled.
Instead of faith, I complained.

There are days when the discouragement is so heavy that I wish I would just die. Days when the past—even the painful past—looked easier than the uncertainty of the future. Days when I wondered if going back would somehow be simpler than continuing forward.

The Lord speaks, MOVE! Keep going! Put one foot in front of the other.