Day 1: When The Shelf Starts to Wiggle

Scripture: Exodus 5:2

Let’s talk about Pharaoh for a second. I think we have in our head that he is some cartoon villain with a twirly mustache and a snake cane.

But that isn’t entirely true. He’s not just a caricature of evil. He’s a real guy running a real empire built on real oppression. And he owned slaves. He benefited from a broken system that worked great for him. Power, comfort, control, he had it all. And the idea of giving any of that up? Not appealing. So when God shows up like, “Let My people go,” Pharaoh’s first reaction is basically, “Uh… who do You think You are?”

Sound familiar?

It should, because deep down, we do the same thing. God presses on something in our life (our time, our money, our influence, our priorities) and we’re like, “Hold up… I’m not sure I want You messing with that.” Not because we’re trying to be rebellious monsters, but because we’ve built a life that feels safe, and surrender feels like a threat.

But God still comes knocking. It’s not always dramatic; sometimes it’s just a quiet conviction. A whisper in your spirit about how you’re spending your time. A tug on your heart about that relationship. A nudge to let go of something you’ve white-knuckled for years.

And what do we do? We push back. We make excuses. We say stuff like, “I don’t think God really meant that,” or “It’s not that big of a deal,” or “I’ll deal with that later.” Not because we’re evil. Not because we hate God. But because deep down, we think our way is working.

Until it’s not. Until the thing we’re holding onto starts holding us. Until the comfort starts controlling us. Until the life we built starts to collapse, and we’re left scrambling, wondering what happened.

That’s where Pharaoh ends up. And honestly? That’s where a lot of us end up too. Not because God wants to crush us. But because He loves us enough to confront us. To say, “I’m not just here to bless your empire. I’m here to free you from it.”

And that’s when we have a decision to make. Do we keep pretending we’re in charge? Or do we finally let go? But don’t answer yet… we’re not there. Not today. Today, we just sit in it and admit: maybe Pharaoh isn’t just the bad guy in the story. Maybe he’s a mirror.

Application:

Where are you acting like Pharaoh right now? Where are you saying with your choices, “I don’t know the Lord, and I’m not bowing to Him”? Name it. Write it down.

Prayer:

God, I don’t want to be Pharaoh. I don’t want to wait until everything falls apart to listen. Help me notice the places where I’m holding on too tightly, and give me the courage to open my hands before You have to pry them open. Amen.

Day 2: The God We Don’t Know We Worship

Scripture: Exodus 8:1-2

Frogs. Everywhere. I’m talking in your bed sheets, in your cereal bowl, in your sandals, in your iPhone charging port...if they had iPhones in Egypt. Just picture trying to make your morning coffee, and a frog launches out of your Keurig. Disgusting.

And here’s the irony: Egypt worshiped frogs. They were a sign of fertility, abundance, and divine favor. So God, in His holiness and sarcasm, says, “Oh, you like frogs? Cool. I’ll give you so many frogs that the sound of croaking will haunt your sleep.”

See, this wasn’t random. God wasn’t being petty. He was being pointed. He took what Egypt idolized, multiplied it, and let them live in the reality of their own false worship. You see, sometimes the judgment isn’t fire from the sky. It’s God giving us exactly what we asked for.

We pray for the job, the platform, the relationship. Not necessarily because we want to honor God with it, but because we think it’ll make us somebody. We want blessings without submission, purpose without surrender. And sometimes, in His mercy, God lets us sit with the very thing we thought we couldn’t live without. Until we realize it’s not a blessing, it’s a burden. It doesn’t satisfy. It suffocates.

That’s the grace in it, though. God doesn’t expose our idols to shame us. He does it to free us. He says, “You think this is where life is? Let Me show you what that thing really is.” Not to crush us, but to call us.

Because when your bed is full of frogs, you start praying differently. You start seeing differently. You start realizing that the things you built your life on can’t hold you.

Only God can.

Application:

Ask yourself: What am I clinging to because I think it gives me identity, comfort, or control? Then ask this question: Is it actually delivering what it promised?

Prayer:

God, I’ve made gods out of things that were never meant to carry that weight. Forgive me. I don’t want to worship comfort, control, approval, or success. I want You. Help me get there...even if it’s messy. Amen.

Day 3: The Breaking Is Mercy

Scripture: Exodus 12:12

The final plague isn’t just the most devastating moment in the Exodus story. It’s the most revealing. It doesn’t just challenge Egypt’s power. It reveals the foundation on which it was built.

The Pharaoh wasn’t just losing a son. He was losing the future he had banked everything on. That boy was the heir, the legacy, the continuation of the family’s strength, name, and supposed divine connection.

So when God takes the firstborn… it’s not random. It’s surgical. It’s like God is saying, “Let’s get to the heart of what you really trust.” Not your army. Not your buildings. Not your systems. Your son. Your legacy. Your control over the future.

It’s not about frogs and gnats and blood anymore. It’s about what happens when God touches the thing we swore we’d never surrender. The thing that we thought was holding everything together.

It sounds harsh, but God will absolutely shake the foundations of our lives if it means opening our eyes to the truth. He will allow the disruption. He will cause the shaking. Why? Because sometimes the greatest threat to your future isn’t what’s attacking you. It’s what you’re clinging to.

God will let the idols fall. He’ll knock the breath out of your lungs if it means filling them with something better. He’s not petty. He’s not cruel. He’s committed. Committed to freedom. Committed to you living wide-awake to His presence and purpose.

So yeah, it feels like a loss. But maybe what we’re really experiencing… is love. Maybe this is mercy in disguise. Maybe the broken pieces are just the beginning of something holy.

Because what you built without Him might’ve looked good, but it was never gonna hold. And Jesus? Jesus doesn’t just want to fix your life. He wants to rebuild it on Him.

Application:

What’s something God may be trying to break in your life, not to punish you, but to free you? Pray about it. And ask Him what it looks like to trust Him in that space.

Prayer:

God, I don’t always understand what You’re doing. But I trust that when You tear things down, You’re trying to build something better. Help me stop fighting You. Help me surrender, even when it hurts. Amen.

Look, I know what it feels like when life starts crumbling. When the plans you made fall through. The job gets shaky. The relationship goes sideways. The stuff you built your life on, your schedule, your title, your income, your reputation, starts to feel more like quicksand than a foundation.

And yeah, our first instinct is usually to blame the enemy. “Satan’s really after me right now.” And maybe he is. But sometimes? It’s not the enemy at all.

Sometimes it’s God.

Sometimes it’s the kindness of God showing up in a way that doesn’t feel kind, tearing down the very things we asked Him to bless us with. Not because He’s out to ruin us, but because He’s rescuing us. He’s breaking down what was never meant to hold us in the first place. Because He knows something we don’t: that if we keep leaning on that thing, we’ll eventually fall with it.

So maybe instead of white-knuckling our way through life, asking, “God, why is this happening to me?” Maybe we start asking a different question. “God, what are You making space for in me?”

And here’s the deal, we’ve gotta be brave enough to stick around for the answer. And then we’ve gotta trust Him enough to follow wherever He leads… even if it means walking through some rubble first.