Embracing Change: Lessons from Exodus 12
- Carissa Dore
- May 19
- 5 min read
The Power of Unleavened Bread
I was reading the Book of Exodus, chapter 12 today. You know, the chapter where the firstborn of the Egyptians die and the first Passover takes place. As I read, what struck me was the instructions about the unleavened bread. Sentence after sentence, they were told to get rid of the yeast. At one point, you almost want to interrupt the passage and say, “Ok, I think we got it. No yeast.”
But then it keeps going.
No yeast in the bread. No yeast in your house. No one can eat it during this time, even foreigners living among you. And if someone does eat it, they are removed from the community.
Over the years, I’ve learned that when something keeps getting repeated in Jewish literature, there is usually a significant theological point being made by the writer. As I read this passage, my guess is that the yeast likely represented the old life in Egypt. They were leaving their old life in Egypt and were not to take it with them into the Promised Land.
The Sequence of Change
Then another thing stood out to me. I noticed an interesting sequence laid out in the text:
Sacrifice the lamb
Apply the blood
Remove the leaven
Eat in readiness
Depart Egypt
Sacrifice comes first. The removal of leaven follows redemption rather than causing it. Israel was not told to clean themselves up first and then God would save them. They were first covered by the blood and then called into consecration, obedience, and action.
Most people do not change the moment they realize they need to change. Just like we see in Exodus, there is awareness, contemplation, preparation, and eventually action.
Sometimes we are physically out of Egypt long before Egypt is out of us.
And maybe that is part of what the unleavened bread represented. God was not only leading Israel out of slavery geographically. He was preparing them to stop carrying the old life into the new one.
The Challenge of Change
When we are challenged to change, it often means our old ways of doing things are no longer working. In Israel’s case, they outgrew Egypt. At one time, Egypt had represented rescue and blessing. But 400 years later, they had literally outgrown it. They became so numerous that the Egyptians feared they would take over. Sometimes change happens, not because we are doing something wrong, but because it is time for the next step.
The more I sat with this passage, the more I realized how much this pattern shows up in life. I can see several areas where God has called me to change. I’d love to say that in those moments I embraced the change and cheerfully said, “Yes! Of course.” But if I’m really honest, sometimes I’ve known exactly what God was asking me to leave behind and still kicked and screamed and had pity parties.
In psychology, we call that the contemplation stage, meaning I am aware something needs to change, but I have not made the decision to do anything about it yet. Change is often uncomfortable, and most of the time I have to sacrifice part of my comfort or what feels familiar to me. Yet once I sacrifice that part of me that has to go, I can prepare and move into action.
Standing in the Tension
Maybe that is where you find yourself. Aware that something needs to change, but still standing in the tension between what is familiar and what is next.
The Israelites did not walk into freedom empty-handed. They carried fear, habits, survival patterns, and generations of slavery with them. Even after leaving Egypt physically, they still had to learn how to live differently. And honestly, let’s learn from them. I do not want to miss out on entering the Promised Land because of my own stubbornness, fear, or unwillingness to trust God fully.
Sometimes God asks us to leave behind things that once served a purpose. Patterns that protected us. Relationships. Mindsets. Versions of ourselves that helped us survive one season but cannot come with us into the next one.
The Meaning of Surrender
And maybe that is what it means for Christ to be Lord. He now has authority over our lives. Honestly, that kind of surrender feels like sacrifice.
It means I am no longer the ultimate authority over my own life. It means laying down parts of myself I would rather keep carrying. It means surrendering everything. It means trusting Him enough to loosen my grip on the things that make me feel safe.
That does not sound like simply adding Jesus onto an already existing life. Lordship is not just theological language. It reshapes our habits, attachments, identities, and ways of living over time.
That is why the leaven had to go. I do not think God was obsessed with yeast. I think He knows true freedom requires leaving something behind. Yeast spreads through the entire loaf until everything is affected by it. The process in Exodus feels familiar because following Christ as Lord often looks like surrender, sacrifice, preparation, contemplation, and eventually action.
The Cost of Transformation
Jesus says to take up our cross daily. Paul says in the Epistle to the Galatians 2:20:
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
Parts of us do die. Our false sense of control dies. Our ego and old identities die. Survival strategies die. Sometimes even dreams, expectations, or versions of ourselves we fought hard to protect die.
That is why the leaven mattered so much. Yeast is not bad, but it does permeate the whole dough. You cannot fully step into a new life while insisting on carrying every part of the old one with you.
Letting Go of the Past
Sometimes the hardest things to leave behind once saved us.
Egypt once represented provision, survival, and rescue for Israel. But eventually, the place that once protected them became the place that enslaved them.
I think that is true in our lives too. In those seasons of change and upheaval, maybe we should ask ourselves, “What am I being asked to leave behind so I can move forward?”
Maybe it is fear.
Maybe it is control.
Maybe it is people-pleasing.
Maybe it is numbing.
Maybe it is the need to stay where things feel predictable and safe.
Whatever it is, freedom usually asks something of us. Transformation requires participation.
So today, I’m sitting with this question:
What is God now asking you to release?
Conclusion: A Journey of Freedom
Change is a journey. It requires us to confront our past and embrace the unknown. As you reflect on your own life, consider the areas where you feel stuck. What old habits or mindsets are holding you back?
Embrace the process of letting go. Trust that the path ahead is filled with possibilities. You are not alone in this journey. Remember, true freedom often requires us to leave something behind.
Resources:
Comments