No Regrets in the River

Let it go, let it go!

Little did I know when seven-year old Gracie sang with her Elsa doll in our living room…in the car…on her way to bed…that she sang a word from the Lord. One belted out in the cars and bedrooms of every little girl singing Frozen’s anthem.

Ahh, the lips of babes. They speak the word of the Lord, or rather sing it at the top of their lungs. It doesn’t matter if they have anything to let go. It just feels right to sing it loud and with abandon!

This morning I turned to my daily reading in Genesis, read two chapters and was intercepted by a word from the Lord.

Don’t regret leaving your stuff. (Genesis 45:20 One New Man Bible)

It was Pharaoh, an ancient Egyptian ruler, talking to Joseph, his co-regent. Joseph was the slave who’d been plucked from prison and positioned to administrate the riches of Egypt.

Pharaoh appreciated a man who heard from God. So he was happy when he heard Joseph’s brothers had been found and that his dad was still alive. He had a word of wisdom for the brothers of his friend and co-regent.

“Tell them, don’t regret leaving your stuff, for the goods of all the land of Egypt are yours.”

Canaan had been a land of promise. But Joseph, a son of promise, was stolen out of that land. His dad, Jacob, never expected to see him again. Neither did the brothers who sold him. They watched the promise carted away, beyond reach and never to return.

A Canaan promise is one that comes out of the early days of our faith. Those times God spoke to our hearts and we knew it was Him. His promise was beautiful and filled with such hope. Somewhere along the way of life, though, it got lost. Or stolen. Maybe we gave up waiting for it.

Here’s what I saw this morning. What was stolen ended up in a place of destiny. A promise was positioned by God in an unexpected place, looking all grown up and unlike what it did in the beginning.

Joseph’s brothers didn’t recognize him. But there he was, looking like what they didn’t expect, in a land they would never have visited unless famine propelled them there.

We have promises that appear lost. But they are neither lost nor dead. They’re  waiting in a place we didn’t expect, looking like what we haven’t recognized. Better yet, they are positioned by God to steward the riches of an unredeemed land.

Look around. Our lives may not look like what we planned. That doesn’t mean God’s strategy hasn’t been at work. The promise came to fullness when we weren’t looking. In an unexpected place, in an unexpected way.

So we don’t regret giving up preconceived ideas of how God was going to do it. We don’t mind leaving all the success and failures in His hands. The precious thing we thought was lost is found. And with it comes reconciliation and restoration in a way that will astound us.

After all, it was God’s promise. He remembers – even if we forget.

Shalom,

Laurel Thomas