Waiting for The Guarantee Before We Move

There is a moment in the Book of Exodus that is easy to gloss over before we fully understand what is it saying.

The people of Israel have just left slavery in Egypt. After generations of oppression, they are finally free—or at least on their way. But almost immediately, they find themselves standing at the edge of the sea with nowhere to go, while the Egyptian army closes in behind them.

They are not confused about what is happening. It is real, and it is terrifying. They are trapped.

What follows is not courage or clarity. It is panic.

They begin to question everything. They turn on Moses. They even start to reinterpret their past:

“Wasn’t it better for us back in Egypt?”

It’s a shocking thing to say. Slavery suddenly sounds safer than freedom.

But that is what fear does. When the future feels uncertain, the mind reaches for what is familiar—even if it was hurting us.

That’s the elephant in the room.

Not just fear of the army. Not just uncertainty about what comes next.

The elephant at the edge of the sea is our demand for clarity before we are willing to move.

We call it thinking things through. We call it being realistic. We call it wisdom.

But often it is something else.

What looks like a lack of direction is often a system overwhelmed by fear, trying to protect us by keeping us where we are.

Moses does what any leader—and honestly what many of us do. He turns to God and cries out for help.

And God’s response is not what we expect.

“Why are you crying out to me? Tell the people to move forward.” (Exodus 14:15)

There is no explanation. No plan. No reassurance.

Just:

Move.

From where they are standing, that makes no sense. There is no visible path. There is only water in front of them and an army behind them.

We tend to imagine this story as if the sea parts first and then they walk through it.

But that’s not how it unfolds.

The command comes before the clarity. The step comes before the path appears.

We often tell ourselves that we are stuck because we don’t know what to do next. We’re waiting for clarity, for confirmation, for something that makes the decision obvious.

So we think. We analyze. We pray for more guidance.

And sometimes that is exactly what is needed.

But sometimes it isn’t.

Sometimes we are not lacking direction. We are resisting movement—because movement requires something we don’t have yet: certainty.

There is a reason this feels so convincing.

When we are overwhelmed or afraid, the brain shifts into a threat response. Our thinking narrows. We focus on worst-case outcomes. Our ability to imagine new possibilities drops.

From the inside, it genuinely feels like there is no way forward.

At the same time, the brain does not generate direction primarily through thinking. It generates it through engagement—through stepping into something and discovering what happens next.

When we stay still in fear, the system loops. The same thoughts repeat. The same conclusions reinforce themselves.

But when we move, something changes. We gather new information. The nervous system begins to settle. The brain has something real to respond to instead of something imagined to fear.

And that is often when the next step becomes visible.

That’s what makes this moment so striking.

The sea does not part while they are standing still, trying to figure everything out.

It parts as they begin to move.

There is one more detail that matters.

They are not alone.

There is a cloud between them and the Egyptian army, holding the threat at bay. In other words, they are already being protected.

But fear has already told them a different story, and fear is always louder.

We can be held, guided, even protected in ways we don’t fully see, and still feel certain everything is about to fall apart.

Scripture says that God’s word is “a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105).

A lamp doesn’t show you the whole road. It shows you enough to take the next step.

And in this story, God doesn’t say, “Wait until you feel ready.”

God says:

Why are you still crying out?

Move.

Not because you have it all figured out.
Not because you feel confident.
Not because the path is obvious.

But because standing still is no longer the answer.

What are you waiting for? Move!

You may not need a complete plan for your life right now.

You may not need more clarity.

You may just need to take one honest step toward what you already sense is in front of you.

Because the sea does not part until you step into it.

“Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on.’”

--Exodus 14:15–16

Where in your life are you waiting for certainty before you are willing to move?

God, in the places where I feel stuck, give me the courage to move without having everything figured out. Help me trust that I do not need the whole path—only the next step. And meet me there.

The Elephant Chronicles are meditations based on my upcoming book “The Lie that Kills Us: We All Have Elephants.” It explores the elephants we avoid: denial, addiction, trauma, death, and grace.

If you’d like me to let you know when it’s released later this spring, send a note to: Pastored@addictionandfaith.com

I’d be honored to keep you in the loop.

The book is now available here:

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