If the first commandment is about holding God as supreme over our lives, not having any idols or distractions that take precedence over Him, then it might seem at first glance that the second commandment is a little redundant. Sure, the second commandment talks about not making images and bowing down to them. In ancient times, those ideas were closely linked. The Egyptian gods all had likenesses and images. Each god had animals that incarnated and represented each of their deities. As such, these animals were considered sacred, such as the cat which represented Bastet the goddess of protection, pleasure and good health, or a jackal which embodied Anubis the guide to the underworld and protector of graves.

The Ten Commandments. What is your knee jerk reaction to them? Do you picture two stone tablets with each command written out? Do you think of the Old Testament law? Do you think of a moral code of ethics given to us by God? Ultimately, all those things are correct, but just because the Ten Commandments were given to the people of Israel and represents a part of Old Testament law, doesn’t mean we can just gloss them over or throw them away. Because despite the fact that they are found in the Law, doesn’t mean they don’t apply to us. At their core, these commandments are all things that we should gladly sign on to. Don’t murder. Don’t steal. Honor God above all else. Nothing about those things are negated by the cross or the New Testament.

This Christmas, I was gifted a book that lists out 150 popular hymns, their sheet music, and a bio of where the hymn was inspired. I picked it up over the past few days and I’ve been leafing through it; finding the hymns I have sung all my life and reading the backstory on where they come from. I have to admit, there are so many hymns that I don’t know, and yet the words to them are sincerely profound and beautiful. This past weekend, I found myself singing “It is Well with My Soul” over and over again as I did housework, so I decided to look it up in the book and find out the inspiration from the song.

I think as Christians, we all have at least one person that we pray would come to know Jesus. A few years ago, when my dad and I were running a youth group, there was one kid that came week in and week out, but he was adamantly rebellious against anything to do with God. He only came because his parents made him and it was one of the only times he got out of the house. For years, I watched my dad and other men in the church try to reach and witness to this kid. There was a lot of prayer, energy, and attention that went into him, and one night the Holy Spirit finally intervened and he admitted to believing in God. He prayed a prayer, and that night there was a lot of rejoicing among the youth leaders. It felt like God finally gave an answer to something long prayed for.

I don’t know about you, but my prayer life could use a refresh. Between my family, being pregnant again, work, and everything in between, I can slack in that department. Of course, I pray with my daughter and here and there, but sometimes, my prayers can be weak. They can become the same phrases, needs, and topics. That’s common. I think if you polled a group of people and they were being really honest, most would say the same. So I know I’m not alone in saying that my prayers could most definitely be deeper. I don’t want the Lord to see me as someone who checks in briefly with the same, old, tired pleasantries and then moves on to the next thing.

This year, I gifted Sam a rather unusual gift. It was a framed illustration I drew of a three-legged stool. Without context, it’s a little bit of a head-scratcher, so let me clue you in. Recently, we heard a story from medieval church history. In 1625, King Charles I ascended to the British throne. Being of the Anglican church and a staunch believer that he had a divine right to rule the church as king, he was not a popular figure in Northern Scotland where the people were largely reformed protestant. Together with his archbishop, the king introduced a book of prayer throughout the kingdom that was much more in line with the Church of England.

Could you imagine being Zecharias? He encountered an angel in the temple that told him he was going to be a father in his old age. His first reaction was doubt and he lost his voice as a result. This rendered him a mute for the entirety of his wife’s pregnancy; and as he watched the evidence of this miracle grow within his wife– the very proof he asked the angel for when he found out about his son– he was unable to rejoice in it with his words. During Elizabeth’s delivery, Zecharias could not offer her words of comfort or encouragement. In the first days of John’s life, Zecharias watched God’s marvelous plan unfolding in real time, in the midst of it and yet somehow sidelined at the same time.

For most, not being able to speak would be a severe punishment. Not being able to speak in the middle of a miracle would be even harder. And for Zechariah? He was about to experience the miracle of his lifetime. If you know about having a baby, you know that when it comes time to tell people you’re expecting, it’s some of the most exciting news to share with others. It’s news you’re bursting to give. And if you’ve experienced years and years of wanting a child, living through all the anticipation turned disappointment as time marched on well past the time where it was possible, then the news that a baby is finally on its way is incredible.

When I was growing up, Black Friday was a huge event. People would finish up their Thanksgiving meal and head out to camp in front of a store all night in the freezing cold to get in as soon as the doors opened early morning the next day. There would be news stories of people that were trampled and died trying to get the next best deal. Flash forward to this year, and you’d never even know that people would literally risk their lives to kick off their Christmas season. I don’t think I know one person that got up before dawn let alone ventured out to shop. Whether that has something to do with online shopping, the lack of sales, or money being tight, maybe we should take advantage of the fact that this Christmas isn’t starting off with the same consumerist kickoff it has in the past.

In every good marriage, there’s a worrier and someone who is not easily rattled. In mine, I take the position of the worrier, and Sam is the one who is always telling me to let things go. Even if you’re not married, you probably know whether you’ll end up being the worried one or the other half who will constantly be telling your spouse to take a breath and change their perspective.

I am dissatisfied. I don’t want to be but I am. It’s so easy to fall into a habit of discontentment. As a young person, I was taught that there would be so much to accomplish in all the areas of my life. I was praised by others constantly for my potential, talents, and promise. Naturally, as you grow older and make decisions in your life, it feels like that endless potential you’re told about when you’re in school grows limits. And that's a hard feeling to grapple with. You think to yourself: I’m almost x years old! I thought I’d have accomplished this by now! I thought I’d have this much in my bank account! I thought I’d be in a much easier place! Where did all that potential go?

It took Israel three months from their exodus of Egypt until they took up residence around Mount Sinai. In those three months, they saw the end of their slavery, deliverance from Egypt, they walked across the Red Sea, witnessed God’s miraculous provision of food and water, and won a war in God’s name. They saw evidence upon evidence of God’s love and care for them; His strength and power over their enemies and yet His protection over this chosen nation. Israel would go on to spend a long time in the wilderness of Sinai and a lot of their societal structure would be established there. Nevertheless, God wanted to meet His people at Mount Sinai the way He met Moses from within the burning bush.

The first war Israel had to fight after becoming a free nation of people is seen in the latter half of Exodus 17. Their enemy, Amalek, and his army attacked the nation of Israel unprovoked and in a reprehensible way. Instead of attacking Israel’s camp head on, they attacked them from the back. In ancient times, the elders, leaders, and strongest among a group would be out in front, leading the way and providing the protection needed for their more vulnerable members located in the back. Taking up the rear were usually women, children, elderly, and the infirm. For Amalek to surprise attack Israel and target their defenseless citizens was not only below the belt but despicable and cowardly.

It seriously boggles my mind how quickly Israel could forget God’s goodness, mercy, and provision towards them. The Jews left Egypt and began their journey in the wilderness in Exodus 15, and here we are in chapter 17 and already we’ve seen 3 different iterations of them having a need, shaking their fists and Moses and God about it, not trusting in God to fill it, and God supernaturally proving Himself by fulfilling their need with a miracle. And what’s worse is that those are just a couple of chapters at the beginning of a 40 year-long journey! We know that there are still many, many more times that Israel repeated that same pattern.

But we are the same way. And just think: If Israel found it hard to rely on God and constantly fell into habits of questioning Him despite the miracles and wonders they witnessed, how much more so is it for us?

The Israelites ate manna for all forty years they wandered in the wilderness. For a younger generation of Israelites, that was for all their lives. Think about that: Every day, for forty years, everyone would go out at the break of dawn and sweep up manna. And even though manna is known as “bread from heaven,” it didn’t drop down from the sky in loaves. Angels didn’t deliver it to the entrances of each tent wrapped in a tea towel and warm from God’s heavenly oven. No, every morning, Israel would wake up, head outside, and sweep up the manna– it materialized in the morning dew and as the sun rose, the water would evaporate off and leave behind a small seed the size of coriander or a mustard seed. Because it was so small and fine, most people swept it up rather than gathering it piece by piece; which they had to do early in the morning, because as the sun rose later in the day, that manna would also melt away.

This week, I met a new friend for dinner. While praying to bless the food, I said something along the lines of, “Lord, give us the courage to walk in your will.” When I finished, she asked me what I meant by asking for the courage to walk with the Lord. And I sort of paused, because it’s something I have been asking God a lot lately in my personal prayers. Have you ever been praying to God for something, and in your own mind the path from A to B is obvious? Have you ever mistaken that easy, obvious path as God’s will? Or maybe God closed the door on that route and left you feeling confused. Why would God tease us with something that seemed like an answer to prayer, only for it to pass right over us?