God's people have just escaped 400 years of slavery in Egypt, and as they are marching toward their promised future, they turn around and see the entire Egyptian army – horses, chariots, officers and even Pharaoh himself – chasing after them. They are blocked in by the sea in front and their oppressors behind, and they start to freak out. They are crying out to the Lord and complaining to Moses. “It would have been better for us to stay slaves than to die here in the desert!” (Ex 14:12)  

Though they've seen the Lord do miraculous things in bringing them out of Egypt, the situation before them still looks hopeless. The most powerful army is about to overtake them, and it seems the only options are death by the sword or being driven into the sea. 

Sometimes when God makes promises, He asks for some kind of action. He promises rest for the weary who come to Him (Matt 11:28). He promises wisdom for those who ask (James 1:5). He promises forgiveness when sins are confessed (1 John 1:9). God promises not to forsake those who seek Him (Ps 9:10).

But here, at the foot of the Red Sea, when God promises to fight for His people, He tells them to just stop. Be still and let Him do His job. 

Being still is not in my nature. Don't get me wrong, I can plop myself on the couch and mindlessly scroll through my social media accounts like the best of them. But when I'm trapped, or when I feel I am being attacked? Stillness is not my first line of action.

Intrinsic to our life as cross-cultural workers is being misunderstood. Whether for cultural reasons, language barriers, or clashing worldviews, there is a good chance that our actions, words, and even motives might be misunderstood and mischaracterized. And often this can feel like an attack. And when this happens, I want to fight, to challenge, to defend myself. 

But sometimes God tells me to stop. To be still. And let Him be my defender and my judge. Just as He's promised.