They weren’t going to do it. Not a chance. It wasn’t going to happen. Following Pharaoh’s defiant lead had long been the norm, but no more. They were done. Enough was enough. They had suffered plenty in the days and weeks since Moses and Aaron showed up with that nifty staff. Unfortunate things. Unpleasant things. Things that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Not this time. They took the warning seriously and heeded it. No matter what Pharaoh chose to do, no matter the choice of prominent social leaders, not caring if they became a laughingstock in their communities, they were doing it. Their livestock would be safely sheltered in barns and stables. Their workers would be in from the fields. Perhaps no one else had learned from the past, but they most certainly had.
Never would they forget that day the ladies went to fetch water, only to come back with blood dripping from their water pots, staining their clothes, tainting their fingertips. Their story was so far-fetched the men hustled down to check its accuracy. The ladies weren’t wrong. It was a mess. The Nile had betrayed them. Where clear water had flowed just the day before, blood ran in its stead. Everything aquatic was dying. Dead fish floated on top of the red river. The smell was atrocious. The river was useless. The people were helpless. Their arrogant leader didn’t care. Faced with the choice to listen to Moses and Aaron, Pharaoh had responded by strutting back into his palace, head held high, back ramrod straight. Not one part of his response indicated concern for his people. Instead, with that singular move, he reduced every household in Egypt to frantically digging along the Nile in a desperate search for drinkable water. (Exodus 7:14-24)
A week passed. Seven days. Days of wild imaginings, worried surveillance, endless suspense. The wait for things to return to normal seemed interminable. Their minds reeled with the possibility of drilling for water and abstaining from fish for the rest of their lives. In the midst of their current disaster, they wondered if another calamity loomed unseen on the horizon. They were right to be concerned. Something else was coming, but it wasn’t on the horizon. It was on land. Inside their homes, leaping from beds, jumping out of ovens, springing from mixing bowls, frogs infested the land. They were everywhere. Horrified squeals echoed across through the air as they hopped from hiding places, surprising even the most alert individuals. It was nothing short of revolting. Everyone hated it. Even Pharaoh. But, although he begged Moses and Aaron to pray for the frogs to be taken away, although God answered, although the land reeked with the stench of decaying amphibians, still Pharaoh hardened his heart. (Exodus 7:25-8:1-15)
It wasn’t the end of it. The Lord wasn’t done letting people know that He alone is God. The smell of rotting frogs had only begun to dissipate when the gnats came. They were worse than the frogs. More elusive. More annoying. The air teemed with them. Animals and people were covered in them. They swarmed around faces and ears, irritating infants and adults alike, making folks tentative to suck in a breath for fear of ingesting a thousand tiny dots of protein. Still, when Pharaoh’s magicians could do nothing about it, when they declared in hushed and awe-filled tones this was surely an act accomplished only by the finger of God, their pompous leader remained just as intractable as usual. He refused to let God’s people go. (Exodus 8:16-19)
The entire land of Egypt, with the exception of the Israelite settlement, would all pay the price. Their suffering would continue with no respite in sight. Enormous black clouds of buzzing, swarming flies moved in to cover the land. Every inch of it. Homes were infested, the walls becoming masses of fluttering wings and bulging eyes. The ground was covered with them. Every step carpeted by the squirming mass. What once had been beautiful land lay ruined in their wake. And, once again, the people held their breath, anxiously waiting to see if Pharaoh would keep his word and let the Israelites go. They surely hoped he would. Their livelihoods were not sustainable should the onslaught of plagues continue. Slave labor meant nothing if they lost everything. Homes and storehouses were excellent things to own, but only if you had something to put in them, and what would they have if the entire land was laid waste by pestilence? (Exodus 8:20-30)
Unfortunately for those longing for a reprieve, Pharaoh wasn’t inclined to back down. It seems his addled brain actually thought he’d win the war. He wouldn’t. Another catastrophe was on the way. One that would bring at least some of the people to their knees in hope and prayer that Pharaoh would take the condition of the land and the deteriorating quality of life in Egypt into consideration before his next ill-fated decision. Their livestock died. Never before had they seen such a fiercely infectious disease, nor one that spread so quickly. They were helpless to combat it. One by one they watched their donkeys and horses, cattle, sheep and camels meet an unfortunate end. Pharaoh didn’t care. Those things could be replaced. He could take them from the Israelites or raid a neighboring land. He wasn’t about to budge. Not for his own household. Not for the people he ruled. Certainly not in obeisance to God. (Exodus 9:1-7)
So badly did they wish he would have! Writhing in agonizing pain at the festering boils on their bodies, the people surely wished Pharaoh would have made a different decision before the next torment befell them. They wished he’d have shown mercy–on them! The pain was unbearable. The situation untenable. There was no way to continue this. They’d lost sanity and livestock and health. Only them. The Israelites weren’t suffering. Not one donkey or lamb had been lost to the mysterious illness. Not one boil arose on the skin of one person in Goshen. They remained completely unaffected. Couldn’t Pharaoh see this? Couldn’t he see what his choices were doing to the people under his leadership? Didn’t he care that his own people were suffering the most? Even he himself was not exempt from the wrath of God. How could he possibly be so obtuse?!?! (Exodus 9:8-12)
If the people were speaking, Pharaoh wasn’t listening. Blinded by his need to prevail, he remained unmoved in his position. Even when a merciful warning was issued beforehand. The worst hailstorm in Egyptian history was coming. Nothing outdoors would survive. Balls of ice would fall like rockets from the heavens, destroying man and beast and decimating crops. Safety could only be found indoors.
As Pharaoh rolled his eyes, insolently slouching into the corner of his throne, others sprang into action. Not because he told them to. Not on his behalf. No. They were done following the nefarious path of their bull-headed leader. The crops would have to be forfeited, but the people and animals could be saved. No matter what choice Pharaoh made, they weren’t going to scoff at the promised oncoming disaster. They were not about to ignore the warning or rebuff the offered safety measures. They believed the words of the Lord. They comprehended His power. They were in awe of His great ability. And they weren’t about to be caught out when He’d planned a way of escape. (Exodus 9:13-20)
Not everyone heeded the warning. Some chose to do nothing at the expense of everything. The wailing in the land of Egypt must have been frightful that day. As the hail subsided and the people walked the fields assessing the damage and searching for the missing, surely the tone across the land was that of immense mourning. Their animals were dead. Their crops were destroyed. Their servants, family and friends lay lifeless in the fields. Sobs shook their frames. Tears drenched their faces. Worry and fear filled their hearts as they stared at the future. And the accusatory question circled around in their minds, with the effects of the first six horrors still echoing in their memories, why didn’t they take seriously the warning preceding the seventh? (Exodus 9:21)
Regret must surely have saturated the minds of those who’d scoffed at the warning. As their world lay in ruins before them, surely they wished they’d made different choices. By then it was too late. Too late to save the servants. Too late to protect the livestock. Too late to call their sons in from the fields. Too late to check the options, change the choices. Too late to save their lives. Everything had been lost for nothing.
It didn’t have to end that way. No livestock needed to die. No people needed to perish. Sorrow and mourning and weeping didn’t need to become the order of the day. They chose that. They chose to ignore the warning. They chose to live in defiance. No one made them do that. As much as he scorned the warning himself, Pharaoh issued no decree forbidding the sheltering of livestock and people until the storm passed. There was no one to blame for the results of the atrocity but themselves. Not God. Not Pharaoh. No one had forced their hand. They were fully responsible for the choice they made. As are we.
Centuries ago, God the Father made the choice to send Jesus, His only Son, to die an inglorious death so you would have the option of a glorious eternity. He had weighed the options and made an invaluable choice that would affect all humanity. Jesus always knew how His destiny looked. He didn’t love it. Wished there was a way around it. Still, in fathomless love and infinite compassion, Jesus looked upon failing, fault-filled mankind and decided they were worth it. You. Me. All of us. Worth it. He spent His earthly ministry warning of eternal death and offering the option of eternal life. Time and again He would offer the facts, explain the options, explicitly spell out the results of each one. His heart desperately hoped you would choose Him. Yet the choice, no matter what it was, would always be yours. (John 3:16-17; Matthew 7:13-14; John 10:27-28; Matthew 26:39; John 14:6)
It’s still your choice. God will never force your hand or reduce your options. So. What have you chosen to do with your life? With the invaluable opportunity of informed choice in your hand, who have you chosen to follow? After assessing the facts, reviewing the options, studying the promised results of each path, where have you chosen to spend eternity? Recognizing that the responsibility for your choices lies solely with you, understanding that life is short and eternity is long, knowing that God’s promises are sure, tell me, friend, what have you chosen to do with Jesus? (Numbers 23:19; Proverbs 14:12; Romans 6:23; Ecclesiastes 6:12; Luke 12:47-48)