God of the Journey,
You meet us at the turning points.
You speak in the silence
between decisions,
when faith is trembling
and the road ahead feels foreign.
Jacob stood at Beersheba
his roots, his memories,
the place where promises once echoed.
And now You called him to leave it all.
He had just heard the unthinkable
“Joseph is alive.”
Could it really be?
His heart, numb with years of grief,
began to beat with hope again.
Lord, I know that place
where good news feels too good,
where joy stirs fear,
where faith and questions hold hands.
He stopped to worship.
Before he moved forward,
he bowed.
God, teach me that rhythm.
To pause at the thresholds,
to build altars before transitions,
to seek Your voice when all I want is motion.
And You spoke.
“Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt…”
Because even Egypt
a place of former fear,
a land of the unknown
was now wrapped in Your promise.
“I will go down with you…
and I will surely bring you up again.”
Lord, what assurance.
You don’t just send us You accompany us.
You don’t just call us to unknown places
You carry us through them.
Jacob gathered his sons,
his grandsons,
his legacy.
They all went down
not fleeing famine,
but following favor.
Lord, I bring You my fear of the unfamiliar.
My reluctance to leave what I’ve known.
My hesitation to believe
that You still have more in store.
But if You go with me,
I can walk forward.
Jacob saw Joseph
not in a vision,
not in a dream,
but face to face.
He clung to him and wept.
You are the God
who restores what was thought lost,
who brings dreams to life again,
even in our old age,
even after decades of doubt.
So I trust You with my Egypt.
With the places I never expected to go.
With the journey I never thought I’d take.
Because You go with me.
You will bring me up again.
And until then,
I will worship.
In the name of Jesus,
who descended with us
and ascended to prepare our final home
Amen.