We choose to remain enslaved

I just finished the miniseries Testament: The Story of Moses. It’s amazing how God’s timing is perfect. He knew I was reading this devotional, so He provided me with extra study, which is especially helpful since I’m new to Bible stories.

My biggest takeaway is that staying free is much harder than getting free. God could have delivered the Israelites to Canaan in 10 days. But after Moses went up to Mount Sinai, the people created their own god—a golden calf—which broke Moses’ and God’s heart. A 10-day journey became 40 years, not because God couldn’t deliver them sooner, but because the people weren’t ready.

What good is the Promised Land if the people don’t know how to live there? God treasures our hearts, way more than the Promised Land.

I’ve spent my whole life busy and hustling for a better, dreamt-of life, often complaining that God doesn’t love me enough to grant my wishes. But how foolish I’ve been. He could give it to me right now, but I’m the one who’s not ready to receive it.

“And whatever you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive it all.” Matthew 21:22 NASB2020

Moses freed the people a long, long time ago, but I’m still living like a slave. The only difference is that the Pharaoh now lives in my head 24/7, 365 days a year. I don’t know which is worse. I imagine that when the Israelites were slaves, they at least got a break when they went home and slept.

But for me, my “Pharaoh” haunts me everywhere I go, even turning into nightmares in my sleep.

Oh Lord, I see it now. If it weren’t for my weakness in breaking free from my “Pharaoh,” I would already be living in the Promised Land.

I am the one who chose to be a slave.

Break my heart for what breaks yours

My husband has been really short and impatient with me lately. Last night, I cooked dinner, but he chose to eat cereal instead. I felt so hurt and angry. We went to bed separately in silence.

So I texted him this morning: I sense a strong separation in our hearts. I think we really need a true Sabbath—no TV, no scrolling on our phones. Can I invite you to think about something you’d enjoy this weekend that we can do together?

He replied: 

I feel like I’m driving a complicated machine, and though I can’t tell what’s happening, I just know something is wrong. I can’t bring myself to be around joy or happy people. I don’t feel resentful toward them; I’m just repelled by the laughter and noise. I just want to be alone. I think I don’t want to be seen. I have forgotten how it feels to have spark or passion for anything. My motivation for everything is gone, and my ability to feel happiness is almost non-existent.

I can barely feel that I have a heart at all. The one thing I can feel for certain is despair. It’s like a feeling of loss that cannot be regained. It’s between anger and sadness. There are frequent and random moments in a day that I suddenly just want to scream or maybe cry. Then I will come out of it and maintain a normal status until it wells up again another time. I don’t know why, but my soul is unable to rest. I feel so weary, like I haven’t slept in months. I know I don’t want death, but I can’t tell if I even want healing. I don’t know what I want.

Having known, loved, cared for, and walked with my husband for so long, I should know better by now. He has a heart like mine—why would he ever want to hurt me? It’s not truly him; it’s the evil spirit that’s taken hold of him and is causing this. It’s just so hard for me to separate my emotions from someone I love so deeply. But when it comes to spiritual warfare, that separation is crucial. I need to protect myself so that I have the strength to support him.

Oh Lord, I know only You can truly help both of us. Please be with us and protect us. I have no words or solutions today; the only prayer my heart can offer is: break my heart for what breaks Yours and his.

I can’t fight this battle for him, and I may not be much help either. But if there’s a way I can share his burden, please let me.