Holy Reminders in Hurried Moments

In the book of Exodus, the Israelites, God’s chosen people, were told to prepare a feast, but to eat with their shoes on, ready to leave at any moment. God did not say, “Skip dinner. You won’t have time to eat tonight.” He commanded them to eat but to be ready. In his kindness, God even instructed that the bread be unleavened. There was no time to let it rise, for God knew that Pharaoh would soon release them from slavery and let them leave in the night. God lets Israel in on his sacred plan—this feast will be a memento, an annual reminder of their rescue from Egypt and later point to the true and better Passover Lamb. In leaving the leaven out of their bread that night when the angel of death passed by their homes, they baked in haste, but with purpose. In celebrating the Passover in future years, leaven is again left out (and even not to be found anywhere in their homes) with purpose. 

Though hurry is not something to be sought, God can use even hurried moments to remind us of his provision. On a very lesser scale, perhaps the preparation of the Israelites' feast can remind us, when we cook, of a farmer who toiled in haste, for the ingredients on our counter. The farmer hurries while it's still daylight—fighting with the ground as he pulls and tugs both in harvest and in weeding just to obtain sustenance from the dirt.  We may remember the employees at Costco, rushing to stock the shelves before the Sunday afternoon rush. Likewise, in cooking, we are fighting against time for our day. Time always seems to win, because no matter how busy we are, we still have to stop and eat.

But most of all, perhaps hurry, coupled with purpose, can be of great benefit to remembering our place in relation to God. We are not God. We do not have control of the ground, of the clock, of the chemical reactions that turn raw meat edible. Maybe hurry can elicit a prayer of thanks to the Father for being in control, or even a groan to the Son, begging that he return soon and restore all of creation. Or maybe the Holy Spirit will use earthen hurry to simply nudge our minds away from this world and onto his unhurried kingdom (that we can access now)—a kingdom that has green fields and clear ponds, laid burdens and promised rest. Sometimes, we have to eat with our shoes on.