In reading Exodus, I began to think of other exodus' by peoples to this land that God kept hidden and preserved for us from Europeans for so long. Then, He began sending migrations of outcasts from other societies around the world. Many of them were religious outcasts such as my mother's side of our family. They were Quakers. On my wife's maternal side was a family of missionaries that accompanied the Cherokee Indians on the trail of tears from the east coast to Oklahoma. That must have been a terrible journey to what appeared to be a God forsaken wilderness. There are many exodus', but the exodus of the Hebrews was the mother of them all. The exodus of my mother's family from Ohio to Oklahoma for the land run of 1889 must have taken great faith in God that something good awaited them and that He would watch over them. We seem to love and remember God most at moments of greatest risk. During the good times, most of us go about the rudimentary motions of worship in a robotic way at best. If we could take a little more time to praise God and talk with Him during the good times, perhaps we wouldn't waste so much time crying before we turn to Him in the bad times. He might help us make better decisions in the good times, if we gave Him a little more one on one time. Now, what really are the good times? The bad times are when we learn the most, find out who really loves us, find out what we are made of, have the biggest adventures, and find out how much faith we really possess. Without faith you will not make it through any exodus, big or small.
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