Day 36

Exodus 21–22 | Romans 1:16–32

“You shall be holy men to Me…” (Exodus 22:31)

I’ll be honest—today’s reading made me question what I was supposed to do with it.

Two full chapters of case law—rules about servants, property disputes, compensation for injury, animal control. It read more like a legal document than a passage for spiritual growth. I know all Scripture is God-breathed, but as I worked through these verses, I felt… disconnected. What does this have to do with my walk with Christ?

Then came Exodus 22:22–31, and the tone shifted. No longer about oxen and restitution, but about God’s heart—His care for the vulnerable, His demand for justice, His call for His people to be holy, set apart from the nations.

And suddenly, the bigger picture becomes more clear.

These laws weren’t meant to restrict life but to shape it—to mold a people who would reflect God’s justice, mercy, and holiness in a corrupt world.

Then I turned to Romans 1, and it all clicked.

“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who suppress the truth in unrighteousness.” (Romans 1:18)

Paul doesn’t soften the blow. We don’t just sin—we suppress the truth. We reject the God who created us. And in response, God gave them up. (Romans 1:24)

That phrase—God gave them up—should terrify us.

He didn’t give up on them—He gave them over to their sin, to the full weight of their choices, to the devastating consequences of a heart hardened against Him.

I read that and think: That should have been me.

Because I know my own depravity.

I know the pride that sneaks in when I think I have my life together.

I know the anger that flares when things don’t go my way.

I know my maniacal desire to have the last word in arguments with my wife Talacey.

I know how easily I put myself before my daughter Sophia—how selfishness creeps into my choices, my time, my energy.

I know the harsh man I can be behind closed doors in my own home while the world outside sees only my smile and my cheer.

I know the damage I’ve caused in relationships with my hurtful, passive-aggressive comments.

And in these past 13 weeks since my saw accident, I’ve come to know too well the sinful downward spiral that I allow depression to take me down. How I let despair sit like a weight on my chest instead of turning to the God who has carried me through everything before.

I know the sinful thoughts, the selfish desires, the countless ways my heart resists surrender. Left to myself, I wouldn’t just drift—I’d run toward destruction.

And yet.

“You shall be holy men to Me.” (Exodus 22:31)

God still calls me. And His call hasn’t changed. It was the same when He spoke it to Moses 3,000 years ago. He still commands holiness. But the gospel tells me what Exodus only foreshadowed—holiness doesn’t come through law-keeping. It comes through Jesus.

I can’t make myself holy. I can’t cleanse my own depravity. But Jesus did what I could never do. He fulfilled the law I could never keep. He took the wrath I deserved. He was given up so that I would never be.

So yes, today’s reading was hard. But it led me here—to the sobering, terrifying reality that I deserve God’s judgment… yet I stand covered by His grace.

Lord, help me grasp the weight of my sin so I can stand in awe of Your grace. Let me not take holiness lightly. Teach me to live set apart—not by my own strength, but by the blood of Christ. Amen.