On those rare occasions when John and I could get away, we’d farm our eight kids out to three or four different families. Once, two of our boys were staying with a family whose father worked graveyard. I explained this to our boys, adding they’d have to be very quiet as the dad slept during the day, because when it got dark, he went to work. One son thought about this and said, “You mean, he’s NOCTURNAL!?”
I sometimes have to remind myself I serve the Eternal Nocturnal God. He works nights. When I can not see, when all is dark, when day has left me weary and weak, God works.
In Exodus 14, it was night, and the Israelites were wrought with anxiety. No longer in Egypt (thank God!), but neither in the promised land. They faced a certain watery death. And, as if that wasn’t stressful enough, a “strong east wind blew all night long.”
I just hate picking sand out of my teeth.
But even more dreadful is finding myself in the land of in-between: that purgatory of Moved Out, but Not Moved In. Obnoxious travel companions crawl out of the woodwork and attach themselves: Uncertainty, Fear, and Questions.
But our Nocturnal God is working in the night, in the wind; to open a way for His Children. The murky waters of the Red Sea parted, and the Israelites passed through. He does no less for us. The dark and the storm are the tools He uses back in Exodus 14, and today, to make the No Way a Freeway for us.
Exodus 12:30 “…in the night, the manna fell…”