Small Things Are Great

“These Are the Names.” That’s 👆 the original Hebrew title of the book we call Exodus. A record written by our brother Moses, it tells a story of rescue, relationship, and restoration. While we often read it as Israel’s story, it is just as much the testimony of every believer. Once, we were bound. God saw our captivity. He heard our cry. And He came down to rescue us. Exodus is not just history; it is a living picture of how God sets captives free. * It is God who sees people in bondage. * It is God who hears their cry for help. * It is God who sends deliverance. * It is God who defines the path of rescue. * And it is God who disciplines us when we refuse His way. In many ways, Exodus reads like a parable — an earthly story carrying a heavenly meaning. That has always been God’s language. Even when He walked among us, Scripture records that He taught in parables again and again. It seems woven into His way of communicating truth. In Genesis, we meet God as Creator, introducing Himself...

Some names in Scripture carry a story within them—an echo of what God intends to do in a life. One such name is Joseph , a Hebrew name meaning “ God will add ” or “He will increase.” When you look closely, you begin to see a pattern: the Josephs in the Bible were not loud, dramatic, or attention-seeking. They were quiet men who walked through deep struggles—and yet, God increased them in remarkable ways. Let’s walk through these Josephs. 1. Joseph, Son of Jacob — Increased After Hardship. He began as the youngest boy with big dreams, hated by his brothers and sold into slavery. From being falsely accused, forgotten in prison, and overlooked by people, Joseph’s life looked like a chain of disappointments. But God kept adding. God added favor in Potiphar’s house. God added wisdom in prison. God added interpretation of dreams. God added authority until he stood second to Pharaoh and preserved nations from famine. Joseph’s silence wasn’t weakness—it was the stillness of a man who trust...

Genesis 33 and 34 end with two strong closing statements. In one, Jacob builds an altar and calls it El Elohe Israel. In the other, Jacob’s sons ask, “Should he have treated our sister like a prostitute?” Two endings—one full of worship, one full of anger—but together they bring us back to a very important question: Who is God? As we’ve read Genesis, God keeps showing up with different names. These names are not random—they reveal who He is and how people experienced Him. So far we’ve met: * Elohim – Creator God (Genesis 1:1) * YHWH – LORD (Genesis 2:4) * El Shaddai – God Almighty (Genesis 17:1) * El Elyon – God Most High (Genesis 14:18) * El Olam – Everlasting God (Genesis 21:33) * El Roi – The God who sees me (Hagar’s name for Him, Genesis 16:13) * El Elohe Israel – God, the God of Israel (Genesis 33:20) Some of these names God reveals Himself while others are names people gave Him after personal encounters—real moments where they understood a new part of His character. In today’s pa...

There is something quietly surprising about this part of Genesis. As we've been reading, we instinctively treat men like Noah, Abraham, and others before Jacob as though they were Israelites. Yet the truth is almost the opposite: there were no Israelites on earth during their lifetimes. The name “Israel” had not yet been spoken. No nation had yet been formed. Instead, the world at that time was organized around families, not nationalities. People drew their identity from the name of their father or the leader of their household. Communities were not built by borders or governments but by bloodline, memory, and a shared story. That is what makes Jacob so important. When God renames him Israel, something entirely new begins. He becomes the first person to carry this name, and his children become the first community to carry that identity. In reality, we should imagine their names like this: Reuben Israel, Simeon Israel, Levi Israel, Judah Israel… and so on. Israel becomes their famil...

Persecution has been on my mind a lot lately. The stories we keep hearing—people losing homes, losing safety, yet still worshipping God boldly—have humbled me. What surprises me every time is the love these believers show for God even when they are threatened or forced to flee. They keep standing. They keep worshipping. They keep saying, “God is worth it,” even when danger is right in front of them. I often think about Daniel when I hear such stories. In the first story, Daniel’s friends refused to bow to the giant statue the king had set up. The king was furious and threw them into a blazing furnace. But what they told him still shakes my heart today: “Our God can save us. But even if He doesn’t, we will not bow.” Their faith wasn’t based on whether God would stop the fire. Their faith was based on loyalty. They trusted God with their souls, even if their bodies burned. Then there is the story from Daniel 6. A law was passed that everyone had to pray to the king. Daniel didn’t even fl...

When we read the story of Hagar and Ishmael, it’s easy for people to mix things up — especially because “Ishmael” and “Islam” sound like cousins. But once you look closely at the story and history, you discover they’re not cousins at all. They’re not even neighbours. Let me explain. When Hagar had Ishmael, what was born was a people group, not a religion. These were real human beings — families, clans, tribes — the kind of people who share food, land, jokes, and family drama. And God looked at this child, Ishmael, and did something very important: He blessed him. He promised to make him a great nation and He kept His word. These descendants of Ishmael are not “bad people” or “wrong people.” They are simply people — and they are included in God’s kindness and mercy. You’ll find kind, honest, warm-hearted people among them just as you will among any other group. Think of it as a child born out of wedlock, rape or unplanned pregnancy. God doesn't look at the child as a mistake or a ba...