The Places You've Lived that Live in You ~ Part 2

 

One of my favorite stories in the book of Exodus is after God’s liberating love made a way when there was no way by parting the Red Sea…as you’ve all seen in the movie The 10 Commandments.  After Miriam led a worship service on the other side of the Red Sea, she took a tambourine into her hands and singing prayer/praise to God.  After the people of God had walked a few steps into what would be a 40-year-long journey, they didn’t know it, because if we knew then what we know now, how many of us would choose to travel the roads that have brought us here?  A few steps into the wilderness, the people start mumbling and grumbling about how much they miss Egypt.  You know, where they were enslaved and forced into hard labor.  You know, where there were whips and oppression.  You know, where they barely had enough food to live on and longed for freedom.  You know…the good ole days!?  One of the truths of Exodus is that even when the people of God leave Egypt, Egypt doesn’t leave the people of God.  It takes time to get the soil of oppression out of their souls.  In fact, some might suggest that we are all still enslaved, captive, beholden to something.  This could be everything from addictions to drugs, alcohol, work, shopping, vacation, meaningful experiences, and even needing to be needed. 

 

The soil of the places you’ve called home still resides in your soul.  You will compare where you are to where you have been.  For example, one of the truths of growing up in Iowa was that frugality was next to godliness.  Couple this with the fact that I grew up in a working-class family that rarely had extra money, and I won’t spend one cent if I don’t have to.  This can be good.  But it can also have consequences when I delay a decision, pouring money into something that is clearly broken.  Look back over the places you’ve lived because there were lessons from those places and people left in you.  You may want to jot down one lesson you learned in each place you’ve lived.  I learned about Minnesota nice, New England stoicism, Wisconsin love of all things cheese and football, and now Florida family that connects people to people beyond DNA.  You can make a few notes under each rectangle about the good and not-so-great lessons of the land where you’ve received snail mail and where you laid your head down to sleep and prayed the Lord your soul to keep.  May this invitation awaken you to the way that the soil of a space gets into your soul and impacts the story you tell yourself today.  Amen.