I used to think my story ended before it even began.

I was born in a time when boys like me were marked for death. Pharaoh feared the growing number of Hebrews, so he ordered every Hebrew baby boy to be thrown into the Nile. But somehow, through a basket floating on a river and the courage of a mother who refused to give up, God preserved my life. (Exodus 1:22, Exodus 2:1-10)

I grew up in Pharaoh’s palace, surrounded by power, yet never fully belonging there. I knew where I came from. I saw the suffering of my people. And one day, anger got the best of me. I killed an Egyptian man and ran into the wilderness, hiding for forty years with nothing but regret, silence, and sheep. (Exodus 2:11-25)

Maybe you know that feeling too.

The feeling of failing so badly that you think God can no longer use you. The feeling of running away from your calling because your past keeps haunting you.

But God has a way of meeting people in the wilderness.

For me, it was through a burning bush. A fire that burned without being consumed. And from that fire, God called my name. (Exodus 3:1-12)

I argued with Him. I told Him I wasn’t qualified. I stuttered. I doubted. I questioned everything. But God wasn’t asking for perfection—He was asking for obedience.

So I went back to Egypt.

What followed were plagues, confrontations, impossible moments, and finally, freedom. After generations of slavery, my people walked out of Egypt. But freedom didn’t immediately feel victorious. Because not long after leaving, we found ourselves trapped.

The Red Sea stood in front of us.
Pharaoh’s army charged behind us.
Mountains surrounded us.

There was nowhere to run.

People panicked. Fear spread everywhere. And honestly? For a moment, even I felt the weight of impossibility. Because sometimes God will lead you to places where the only solution is Him.

Then God told me something I’ll never forget:

“Why are you crying out to Me? Tell the Israelites to move on.” (Exodus 14:15)

Move on?
Toward the sea?

It didn’t make sense. But faith rarely does in the beginning.

So I lifted my staff.

And suddenly, the sea split apart.

Walls of water rose on both sides as dry ground appeared beneath our feet. What once looked like an impossible ending became a pathway forward. The same sea that terrified us became the very thing God used to deliver us. (Exodus 14:21-31)

That moment changed everything.

Because the miracle was never just about the sea. It was about trust. About believing that God can make a way even when there isn’t one.

Maybe you’re standing in front of your own Red Sea right now.

Maybe it’s anxiety.
A broken family.
A dream that feels impossible.
A battle you’ve been fighting quietly for years.
Maybe you feel trapped between fear behind you and uncertainty ahead of you.

But hear this: God still makes paths where there are none.

The sea didn’t part before we moved. It parted when we trusted Him enough to take the step.

And maybe that’s what faith looks like for you today.

Not having every answer.
Not knowing how things will work out.
But choosing to move forward anyway.

Because sometimes, the greatest miracles happen when you stop staring at the obstacle and start trusting the God who stands above it.

So what sea is standing in front of you?

Want to read more about Moses’ life?

● Moses in the Basket: Exodus 2:1-10
● The Burning Bush: Exodus 3
● Let My People Go: Exodus 5-12
● Crossing the Red Sea: Exodus 14:1-31
● The Wilderness Journey: Exodus 16-17

The sea didn’t stop God’s plan for His people.
And your obstacles won’t stop His plans for you either.