The Need to Know God - Exodus 5
Every February, a groundhog emerges to see whether it notices its shadow. We smile, shrug, and move on—but beneath the folklore is a deeper question: How do we respond when the light hits us? In Exodus 5, Pharaoh becomes the groundhog, Moses the watchful meteorologist, and God’s shadow looms large. What follows is not a quick fix, but a slow, intentional unveiling of who God is.
God Speaks in the Wilderness
Before Moses ever confronts Pharaoh, God meets him in the wilderness. In Hebrew, the word for wilderness—midbar—shares its root with the word debar, meaning “to speak.” The wilderness is not just a place of emptiness; it’s the place of speaking. God meets Moses there and sends him to speak to Pharaoh so that Israel might journey back into the wilderness—back into the place where God speaks.
For many of us, the wilderness feels like punishment or delay. Scripture reframes it as invitation. If you find yourself in a desert season, it may be because God wants to speak to you there.
A Surprising Request
When Moses finally stands before Pharaoh, he delivers the famous command: “Let my people go.” But the request that follows feels strangely timid—a three-day journey into the wilderness. Why not total freedom? Because God is not playing checkers. God is playing chess.
A quick, forceful victory would show God’s power. A long, unfolding story reveals God’s name. God doesn’t just want liberation; God wants relationship. He doesn’t merely want to win a battle—he wants to win hearts.
Chess, Not Checkers
Throughout Scripture, God consistently chooses the long game:
Israel spends 400 years in Egypt.
Moses spends 40 years in Midian.
Israel wanders 40 years in the wilderness.
God could intervene instantly—but chooses formation over speed, depth over spectacle. As Scripture reminds us, a day is like a thousand years to the Lord. This is not delay; it is intention.
This truth matters deeply in a world marked by violence, injustice, and exhaustion. The hope that lets us sleep at night is not that God will always act quickly—but that God is always acting faithfully.
When Things Get Worse
Pharaoh’s response is not repentance, but retaliation. Work becomes harder. Straw is removed. Quotas remain. The oppression intensifies.
This moment introduces a painful but honest truth: sometimes things must get worse before they get better. Scripture echoes this pattern again and again:
Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.
Present affliction prepares future glory.
Trials produce steadfastness.
God is still speaking—even when the message feels buried beneath suffering.
The Oppression of Busyness
One of Pharaoh’s most effective weapons is busyness. By increasing demands without increasing capacity, he strips the people of rest, reflection, and freedom. Chronic busyness becomes a tool of empire.
Busyness, we are reminded, is not a badge of honor. It is often a form of oppression. God’s invitation to a three-day journey into the wilderness is a seed of Sabbath—a radical idea for people conditioned to work without rest.
“Be still and know that I am God.” To know—yada—is not intellectual awareness, but intimate relationship.
Knowing God, Not Just About God
Pharaoh mocks Moses: “Who is Yahweh?” That question sits at the heart of the story. God’s goal is not merely that Pharaoh release Israel, but that Pharaoh—and the whole world—know who Yahweh is.
This distinction matters for us too. Scripture warns that it is possible to know about God without actually knowing God. Obedience, stillness, trust, and intimacy are the markers of true knowing.
A Question to Linger With
So the question remains:
What is keeping you from knowing God?
Is it chronic busyness?
Frustration with God’s timing?
Disillusionment with the world?
A wilderness you’re trying to escape instead of inhabit?
God is still playing chess, not checkers. He is still speaking in the wilderness. He still desires not just to display power, but to reveal his name.
May we resist the urge for quick fixes. May we trust the long game. And may we seek first the kingdom of God—believing that, in time, everything else will be added.
