Missions Paul

Have you ever been in a fight you didn’t start and weren’t sure you could finish? A battle that came out of nowhere?  A health crisis, a broken relationship or a spiritual dry season, and you ask the question: Is anyone fighting for me?

The Lord has never lost a battle!

“The Amalekites came and attacked the Israelites at Rephidim. ⁹ Moses said to Joshua, “Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.” ¹⁰ So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. ¹¹ As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. ¹² When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. ¹³ So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword. ¹⁴ Then the Lord said to Moses, “Write this on a scroll as something to be remembered and make sure that Joshua hears it, because I will completely blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven.” ¹⁵ Moses built an altar and called it The Lord is my Banner. ¹⁶ He said, “Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.” (Exodus 17 v 8-16)

Joshua fought, Moses prayed, but only God gave the victory over Amalek. It wasn’t Israel is my banner or Moses is my banner, or Joshua is my banner; rather, it was Yahweh-Nissi: THE-LORD-IS-MY-BANNER.

After this amazing victory, Moses built an altar.

It was a prophetic declaration. The altar stood in sight of the community. When future generations asked, “What is that altar?” the answer would be a testimony: “The Lord fought for us here.”

It had a name — Yahweh Nissi. “He called it The Lord is my Banner.” It said: “This is who we fight for, and this is who fights for us.” God Himself is our Banner. We don’t look to our weapons. It is Yahweh and Him alone. Today, it is the cross that is the banner. The cross is the altar. The name of Jesus is our Nissi — the banner we rally to when the battle rages and our arms grow heavy.

It carries a generational promise. “Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.” When the enemy comes against you, he is not just attacking you. He is attacking the one whose banner flies over your life. The banner has not been lowered. Yahweh Nissi has not retired.

Speak the name of Yahweh Nissi over your circumstances, as a faith declaration: “The Lord is my Banner over this marriage, over this illness, over this financial crisis, over this prodigal child.” He was the Banner at Rephidim. He was the Banner at Calvary. He is the Banner today over your home, your heart, your hardest days.

Build your altar. Speak His name. Hold up those around you. And know this above all: the Lord is still at war against every enemy of your soul, and He has never lost a battle.

Moses woke one day and found that the people he was responsible for were about to stone him. It’s a brutal way to start a morning; the very people he’d led out of slavery, fed with bread from heaven, and carried through the sea now had rocks in their hands. Leadership had turned, overnight, into a threat to his life.

Are you waking today to responsibilities that feel like too much? A workload, a family, a church, a decision, something that’s gone from manageable to overwhelming while you slept?

God’s way forward is this: “The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. ⁶ I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” So Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel.” (Exodus 17 v5-6).

1. Get some distance between you and your responsibility. Walk on ahead.
“Go out in front of the people” (v5). Before Moses can lead them again, God moves him away. Sometimes the first act of leadership is a step back, not a step forward.

2. Get a small accountable group of friends that you trust, and meet with them.
“Take with you some of the elders of Israel” (v5). Moses doesn’t go alone, and he doesn’t go to everyone. He takes a few people who’ve earned the right to see him under pressure. Isolation and crowds are both dangerous.

3. Take up again that person you really are: your identity (your staff) again. Believe in who you are.
“Take in your hand the staff” (v5). This is the same staff that turned into a snake before Pharaoh, that split the Red Sea, that has been in Moses’ hand through every act of deliverance so far. Picking it up again reminds him of who he already is.

4. Remind yourself of what you have achieved in the past. (You struck the Nile.)
The staff “with which you struck the Nile” (v5). God is specific. He doesn’t just say “your staff,” He points Moses back to a particular victory.  God corrects that lie of being overwhelmed by naming the last time you thought you couldn’t and yet you did.

5. Meet with me.
“I will stand there before you” (v6). God simply says, “I’ll be there.” Whatever today’s crisis is, it doesn’t get solved before you’ve stood in front of Him.

6. Let me take you back to the time when I first called you. (At Horeb.)
The rock is “at Horeb” (v6), the same mountain, almost certainly, where God first met Moses at the burning bush and called him to this task (Exodus 3:1). God brings him back to the place of calling, not to relive the past but to remember the voice that started it.

Let these lessons of Moses help you if you find yourself at Rephidim today.

The people of Israel had seen the sea split open. They had watched Pharaoh’s army swallowed by the waves. They had eaten bread from heaven every single morning for weeks. And now, camped at Rephidim, they were dying of thirst. So guess what they do?

“The whole Israelite community set out from the Desert of Sin, travelling from place to place as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. ² So they quarrelled with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses replied, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the Lord to the test?” ³ But the people were thirsty for water there, and they grumbled against Moses. They said, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?” ⁴ Then Moses cried out to the Lord, “What am I to do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me.” ⁵ The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. ⁶ I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” So Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel. ⁷ And he called the place Massah and Meribah because the Israelites quarrelled and because they tested the Lord saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”  (Exodus 17 v 1-7)

It seemed they’d forgotten everything God had already done.

“Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?” (v.3)

Today’s thirst has a way of erasing yesterday’s miracles. Present pain has a habit of making past faithfulness feel very distant.

Moses takes it to the Lord: “What am I to do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me” (v.4). Leadership always carries complaints upwards. It never internalises them.

God’s plan is mirrored in the New Testament.

Paul later writes that Israel “drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ” (1 Corinthians 10:4). The rock that was struck (only once – important for what will transpire!) is a shadow of the cross. Christ, judged in our place, becomes the source from which grace flows freely to those who deserve judgement instead.

That’s what makes Massah and Meribah, “testing” and “quarrelling”, such a strange kind of memorial. The place named for Israel’s failure becomes, in the same breath, the place of God’s provision. He doesn’t wait for their complaint to become gratitude before He acts. The water comes while the grumbling is still in the air. The epitome of grace.

“The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a land that was settled; they ate manna until they reached the border of Canaan. (An omer is one-tenth of an ephah.)” — Exodus 16:35-36

We come to the end of this chapter with a short reminder: an omer is a tenth of an ephah, and the manna lasted forty years.

Forty years. Every morning, God fed His people who came to rely on His provision.

Is that your testimony? Years of God turning up for you, providing for you, simply being there for you, day by day. Until they reached Canaan, they met the faithfulness of God every single day.

They could have reached Canaan far sooner. But in this wilderness wandering, God taught them many things, and so many of them didn’t survive the experience. They went into the wilderness but never came out. And yet every day, God was there for them. This is the epitome of grace.

The wilderness was never meant to be their destination; it became their destination because they refused to trust God.

“It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.” — Deuteronomy 1:2

Eleven days. Forty years. The distance was never the problem but the trust was.

Whatever wilderness you’re walking through, however long it’s lasted so far, God will continue to feed you until you reach the Promised Land. Amen!

I remember a song from my childhood that was incredibly simple:

He’s all I need, He’s all I need,
Jesus is all I need.

That was about it. Nothing complicated. And perhaps that is why I remember it. A little boy knowing that God was my everything.

“The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a land that was settled; they ate manna until they reached the border of Canaan.” (Exodus 16 v 35)

God knows what His people need, and He provides it.

Fancy eating the same thing for forty years?

That was Israel’s experience in the wilderness.

Every morning, except on the Sabbath, manna appeared on the ground. They didn’t even really know what to call it. When they saw it, they asked, “What is it?”—and the name manna is connected with that question.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t exciting. It was simply God’s provision.

And there was enough.

Those who gathered much did not have too much, and those who gathered little did not have too little. God provided what was needed. He even instructed them to gather twice as much on the sixth day so they would have enough for the Sabbath.

For forty years, God faithfully provided for His people.

The wilderness was not their destination, but God did not take them through the wilderness without provision.

Eventually, the manna stopped. When Israel entered the Promised Land and began eating the produce of Canaan, the manna ceased.

But there is something deeper here for us.

Today, God’s provision is not manna.

His provision is Jesus.

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” (John 6:35)

The manna sustained Israel in the wilderness for a season. Jesus sustains us for the whole journey.

Every morning, the answer is still Jesus.

Day after day, there is no need to search for another source. No need to look somewhere else for what will ultimately satisfy the soul.

He is enough.

He is the All-sufficient One.

There may be seasons when life feels like a wilderness. There may be days when we don’t understand what God is doing or where He is taking us. But we can trust this: God will never ask us to walk where His grace cannot sustain us.

Until we reach the Promised Land of heaven, Christ remains our bread, our strength and our life.

He’s all I need.

And He always will be.

Two things are needed in our lives. An awareness of what God wants from our lives and an acknowledgment of what God has done for us. 

“The people of Israel called the bread manna. It was white like coriander seed and tasted like wafers made with honey. Moses said, “This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Take an omer of manna and keep it for the generations to come, so they can see the bread I gave you to eat in the wilderness when I brought you out of Egypt.’ ” So Moses said to Aaron, “Take a jar and put an omer of manna in it. Then place it before the Lord to be kept for the generations to come.” As the Lord commanded Moses, Aaron put the manna with the tablets of the covenant law, so that it might be preserved.” Exodus‬ ‭16‬:‭31‬-‭34‬ 

Manna didn’t last. That was the whole point, trust God for tomorrow. It was meant to teach a wilderness generation that provision comes from the hand of God, not from their own storehouses. Except.

Except for one omer. One jar, set apart, not to be eaten, but to be seen. Manna that didn’t rot, kept precisely so a people prone to forgetting would remember.

Every generation needs its equivalent of the jar of manna. Some tangible reminder that we did not get here by our own success.

The tablets of the law said what God required. The jar beside them said what God had already done. Law and grace, side by side in the same space. 

Six days of gathering manna had trained Israel to reach for what they needed each morning. So when the seventh day came, they just did the same as yesterday, even though they had been told to rest. The result was emptiness.

“Nevertheless, some of the people went out on the seventh day to gather it, but they found none.  Then the Lord said to Moses, “How long will yourefuse to keep my commands and my instructions? Bear in mind that the Lord has given you the Sabbath; that is why on the sixth day he gives you bread for two days. Everyone is to stay where they are on the seventh day; no one is to go out.” So the people rested on the seventh day.” (Exodus 16 v 27-30)

Every morning, for six days, manna was there. On the seventh day there was none, ever. Yet there is always one, or in this case, some! The day before, the sixth day, they had a double portion which would last them into the seventh day. However, there they were again, looking for manna on the seventh day. They were not doubting God would provide. In doubting the request to stop on the seventh day, they chose not to believe in the importance of rest.

What I love is the preparation God makes on the sixth day. In effect, it was God saying:

I have already thought of tomorrow. You don’t have to.

The Sabbath was never a reward for finishing all the work (does it ever get finished?!) It was a gift so that we would believe that what God had given in the six days was enough for the seventh. So the people rested on the seventh day.

Eventually.

That rest was still there waiting for them when they finally stopped reaching for what they’d already been given.

Every generation must enter into the rest God has given. It is not only the Sabbath, and it is not just for one day. The manna-free day prophesies into our lives lived under the Lordship of Christ now, where there is no place for working for our salvation. This is what it means to have the Sabbath rest. We don’t work for our righteousness. And yet our enemy, ingrained in us, is the belief that God is not pleased with us, that He wants more from us.

There is nothing you can do to cause you to be saved, not one thing. It is total grace. Not one performance, not one sin-free day, not one commandment or act of purity or sacrificial giving. Nothing. Get rid of the whole notion.

Sit back, receive His presence, be thankful for His forgiveness, and be happy today. This matters enormously, because if we fail to enter that rest, where is there left to go? Everything hangs on this one thing: that our obedience is to enter into the finished work of Jesus.

This is incredible, but true. There is a day, every day, now, when you don’t need to look for provision. It has already been given.

On the sixth day, the manna doubles. No new instruction has come. The people simply gather twice as much and bring it to Moses, unsure what to make of it.

“On the sixth day, they gathered twice as much—two omers for each person—and the leaders of the community came and reported this to Moses. He said to them, ‘This is what the Lord commanded: Tomorrow is to be a day of sabbath rest, a holy sabbath to the Lord. So bake what you want to bake and boil what you want to boil. Save whatever is left and keep it until morning.’ So they saved it until morning, as Moses commanded, and it did not stink or get maggots in it. “Eat it today,” Moses said, “because today is a sabbath to the Lord. You will not find any of it on the ground today. Six days you are to gather it, but on the seventh day, the Sabbath, there will not be any.”” (Exodus 16:22–26)

Only after the leaders report the double portion does Moses explain what God had planned all along: tomorrow is a Sabbath, a holy rest, and today’s extra gathering was preparation for it. Bake and boil whatever you want, and unlike every other day, save the rest until morning. What would have rotted on any other day stays fresh this time.

The instruction is simple: work today so that you can rest tomorrow.

Rest isn’t the absence of provision; it’s built into it. Today may have felt like double shifts. God may be preparing you, like Israel, for the rest that is yours to follow.

It’s a rest the writer of Hebrews later points back to, the same rest God entered on the seventh day of creation, still standing as a promise for those who trust Him rather than harden their hearts. Provision and rest were never in competition. Gather today. Rest tomorrow. That rhythm hasn’t changed.

Moses gave a simple instruction: gather today’s portion and leave nothing until morning. Some ignored it. What they hoarded turned rotten before their eyes.

“Then Moses said to them, ‘No one is to keep any of it until morning.’ However, some of them paid no attention to Moses; they kept part of it until morning, but it was full of maggots and began to smell.” (Exodus 16:19–20)

What they tried to secure for tomorrow became a reminder that faith can only be renewed daily. God gives generously and lets it go just as freely, teaching a people to do the same. Whatever you’re hoarding out of fear of further provision, ask what it will look like by morning. God isn’t stingy with tomorrow. He’s just insistent that today’s trust cannot be kept for tomorrow.

Remember this: give us today our daily bread?

Jesus says the same thing:

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34)

Hoarding manna and hoarding worry are the same. Both refuse to leave tomorrow in God’s hands. Both try to carry today what was only ever meant to be carried by grace, one day at a time.

God hasn’t promised to remove your uncertainty. He’s promised to be present inside it, today, and again tomorrow when tomorrow comes.

So don’t keep today’s manna till tomorrow. Don’t carry tomorrow’s trouble into today. Gather what you need, trust the One who sends it, and let the rest melt away in the sun because it was never yours to keep.

“Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:33)

Open your hand. Let today be enough. And trust that when tomorrow comes, there will be manna for that day too.

We are chronic comparers. We measure everything against theirs, even if we don’t know anything about who ‘theirs’ is. Social media helps a lot. We read one post, and we compare their ministry against our influence. We hear a testimony, and we think about our prayers waiting to be answered. No one sees. It is our secret. Comparison sits with us throughout our lives, hand in hand with injustice. Someone always seems to gather more: more gifting, favour, visible fruit, or whatever we have decided matters this week. We can forget it works both ways. Somewhere, right now, someone is gathering less than you.

This comparison of measuring my basket against someone else’s is one of the oldest thefts in the human heart. It robs us of the gratitude for what’s actually in our hands.

In the miraculous provision from God of the manna and meat from heaven, it would seem He had this comparison problem in mind.

“That evening quail came and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, ‘What is it?’ For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, ‘It is the bread the Lord has given you to eat. This is what the Lord has commanded: “Everyone is to gather as much as they need. Take an omer for each person you have in your tent.”‘ The Israelites did as they were told; some gathered much, some little. And when they measured it by the omer, the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.” (Exodus 16:13-18)

An omer is a Hebrew unit of dry measure — roughly one person’s daily food. God sent quail as meat and manna as bread, enough to blanket every tent in the camp.

Here’s what we need to take note of: the people go out and gather different amounts, some much, some little, yet when it’s measured, no one has too much, no one has too little. That doesn’t add up. But grace never does. God’s provision isn’t identical for everyone; it is sufficient for everyone. The one who gathered much gained nothing by it. The one who gathered little lost nothing by it.

So stop measuring your gathering against someone else’s. The miracle was never that everyone got the same amount but that everyone got exactly enough. What you’ve gathered today is your omer. Be thankful.