I've been thinking all week about those Israelites at the seashore and their second thoughts about leaving Egypt. Faced with the vast uncertainty of what awaited them on the other side of that frightening sea, they were quick to wax nostalgic about the life they had left behind. Whitewashing the memories of brick-making quotas, the whips of their masters, and the greed of Pharoah, they only remembered the security of sameness.
"Let us serve the Egyptians." How many times have I chosen the predictability of the past rather than risk walking off that set? How often have a taken tentative steps toward freedom only to look over my shoulder and wonder if I could sprint back to where I was? God help us, lest we forget that freedom lies on the other side of the sea change.