They stood on the edge of everything God had promised them.
Freedom. Flourishing. A land flowing with milk and honey. A life they had only dared to imagine. And God had told them, “It’s yours. Go in and take it. I’ll be with you.”
But the moment they saw the giants in the land, something shifted.
“We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes,” they said, “and we looked the same to them.”
And just like that, they forgot who they were.
The fear spread like wildfire. The people wept through the night. They blamed their leaders. They doubted God’s goodness. And then, in a heartbreaking turn, they said something we still echo in our own ways:
“Let’s go back to Egypt.”
Back to captivity.
Back to what was familiar.
Back to what was broken—but known.
Because stepping into freedom felt scarier than staying in chains.
Can you feel the weight of that moment?
It’s not just their story. It’s ours too.
God begins to stir something holy in your spirit. He starts to unveil the unique way you’ve been wired to love, to restore, to carry His heart into the world. You feel the ache—deep and sacred—that whispers, You were made for more.
But then you see the “giants.”
The scale of the need.
The gifts you don’t have.
The people already doing it better.
The fear that you are not enough.
And like the Israelites, you look at yourself through a distorted lens. You shrink down. You retreat. You start planning a return trip to the very places God once delivered you from.
We all have our Egypts. The default patterns. The safer stories. The small visions.
But God is still speaking the same invitation:
“Step into what I’ve prepared. I’m with you. Ask Me for wisdom. Ask Me how to love. I will answer.”
The truth is, your purpose was never meant to be carried in your own strength. It was meant to be discovered—and stewarded—in partnership with the One who called you.
You were made with a redemptive purpose. That purpose isn’t about platform or perfection. It’s about people. It's about loving others in the way only you can. And when you ask God to show you how, He will—every single time.
“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault... But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt...”
(James 1:5–6, NIV)
So ask.
Ask Him how He’s inviting you to love.
Ask Him where He’s asking you to step in.
Ask Him to show you what He sees when He looks at you.
Because you’re not a grasshopper.
You are a child of God, filled with His Spirit, carrying His heartbeat into a hurting world.
And when you believe that, even a little, everything starts to change.
You stop measuring your worth by someone else’s scale.
You stop comparing your capacity to someone else’s calling.
You stop running back to Egypt and you start walking into freedom.
Your redemptive purpose isn’t somewhere far off. It’s right here, waiting for you to say yes. And it begins when you trust that what God placed in you is enough because He is with you.
Let that truth undo the fear. Let it stir wonder again.
Then lift your eyes, and start looking for who He’s inviting you to love.
Reflective Journaling Prompts
- What “giants” do I keep focusing on that make me doubt I can step into my purpose?
- Where have I been tempted to go back to “Egypt” instead of trusting God for more?
- What would it look like to believe—really believe—that I carry something of God’s heart that the world needs?
-
Prayer
God, I confess how often I let fear shrink my faith. I see the obstacles and forget You are the One who overcomes. I hear the lies that I’m not enough and forget that You made me on purpose. Thank You for calling me into a life that matters—for others, and for Your glory. I ask for Your wisdom. Show me who to love. Teach me to listen. Give me the courage to move with You, not in my strength, but in Your presence. I want to say yes to what You’ve prepared. Even when I’m afraid, help me keep my eyes on You. Amen.
With Joy and Wonder,
Ashley