Did I Stutter? Setting boundaries in a power-hungry world

While I have been searching for a home on and off over the years, I would reach breaking points where I felt like no forward progress was being made. And every time a promise was made with those I was seeking counsel from, it would land flat. To say the least, I felt like a prisoner in my situation. No matter how hard I tried, I felt hopeless. And in times like these, I cried out to God, asking Him to be my Deliverer! Can’t He see me here under the oppression of Egyptian rule? I am their slave, and I get nothing in return. So God, why won’t You intervene? Why won’t You part the Red Sea for me? Why won’t You say, “Let My People Go”?

For a long time, I lived with the belief that if I just waited long enough — if I stayed patient and kept praying — God would move on my behalf at the right time. And while I still believe God’s timing is perfect, I recently found myself undone by the possibility that maybe I had misunderstood something. Maybe I misheard Him. Maybe I missed Him altogether.

Several weeks ago, while praying about housing, I felt this sudden and firm message: I had missed an opportunity. At first, my flesh reeled. How could I — someone who had been so diligently waiting for a sign or an answer — have gotten it wrong? How, after sitting night after night at the feet of Jesus, could I have missed it? So at first I dismissed the thought in my pride. But then a small whisper came: What if I did miss it? What if the opportunity was at the very beginning? When I first started looking at houses — when interest rates were low and prices were more manageable — maybe that was my time. And maybe I missed it.

Fast forward to today: I can see that was true. But in God’s goodness and graciousness toward me, He offered me another opportunity to step out of “Egypt.” And this time, I didn’t just understand my assignment — I had the strength to walk it out. Not because I suddenly became strong, but because the pain of staying where I was drove me deeper into the presence of Jesus. It was in those quiet, lonely moments with Him that He built my strength and my faith. After four years of coming to Him daily, the day arrived where I saw He was offering me another chance.

But the gate was still the same. I still had to confront the same Pharaoh. The difference was: this time I didn’t walk alone. Just like Moses, I needed my wilderness experience to draw close to the heart of God, and I needed my community (my Aaron and Israelites) to hold me accountable as I faced what I had avoided for so long. I always thought the Exodus story was purely about God’s deliverance from oppression — and yes, it absolutely is — but there’s also a subplot about forming Moses into the leader God wanted him to be.

Let’s look at his story for a moment. We have a Hebrew boy rescued and raised in Pharaoh’s household. Then, after discovering his true identity, he flees into the wilderness in shame after a murder. After years in the wilderness and an encounter with God through the burning bush, Moses knows it’s time to return to Egypt and set the captives free.

But here’s the catch: he has to confront his "brother", Pharaoh, in the process.

So here is this exiled, orphaned man — with a past, with guilt, with a stutter — returning to face the most powerful person in the land. God didn’t give Moses a free pass. He didn’t say, “This is too hard for you with everything you’ve been through, so I’ll handle it.” No. Moses still had to go to Pharaoh nine times to call him to repent.

Let’s break this down. Moses — a former member of Pharaoh's house, a murderer, someone who has been essentially AWOL for forty years — walks back into the kingdom, stuttering his way through demands that Pharaoh release his workforce.

Cue the eye roll from Pharaoh. If anything, he probably thought Moses belonged in prison or dead. And yet — this is exactly what God wanted. God chose this messy, uncomfortable confrontation as the path of deliverance and as the making of Moses.

And on top of that, with every “no” from Pharaoh, a plague falls — on Moses’ former "family". Talk about messy. Talk about painful. The conflict escalates until the firstborn of Egypt dies, including Pharaoh’s son. Heart-wrenching doesn’t begin to describe it.

So where am I going with this?

God’s salvation and redemption come freely — but walking in them often costs us something. Matthew 16:25 says, “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.”

I wasn’t willing — actually, I wasn’t able — to confront the Pharaoh in my life who was keeping me from stepping into the calling God had for me. And because I wasn’t ready, I stayed where I was for four more years. Praise God it wasn’t forty. But even in those four years, God was with me, forming me, strengthening me, and preparing me.

Now I can see His equipping. I can see His nudging, urging, and encouraging me to stand for what I know is right — and still love “my brother” with invitations and clear boundaries. I am being held accountable and lifted up by my community of believers walking with me through this.

And lastly, on paper, I have zero authority compared to the “Pharaoh” in my life. But I’ve learned it is God who justifies, and that our highest family allegiance is to our brothers and sisters in Christ — and to our Heavenly Father — above any earthly structure or relationship.

I am so grateful and privileged that God opened my eyes to this opportunity to step out in faith, and I am excited to see how He parts the Red Sea for me.

Where in your life is there a Pharaoh you need to confront, a boundary that needs to be put in place, or a calling you need to step into?

P.S. For all you introverts out there I would recommend reading Susan Cain's "Quiet". Unleash the power you have in your silence and your voice!