Called and Set Apart
Well, how‑do there, friend. You know life has a real funny way of tappin’ you on the shoulder like a nosy deer tryin’ to figure out what you’ve been snackin’ on. So, come on over here, pull up a good rockin’ chair, and swat them there pesky Junebugs right off your knee ‘cause we’re ‘bout to stroll through Scripture like two neighbors walkin’ a fence line tryin’ not to trip over a curious goat. Right there in Exodus 19:5-6, God tells His people that if they obey Him, He’ll make ‘em His peculiar treasure and a kingdom of priests. Now that’s quite a title for them folks. Sounds plum fancier than a rooster struttin’ around in his best Sunday shoes.
Now, let me tell you somethin’ right here and now. When God calls you His peculiar treasure, He ain’t sayin’ you’re odd like that squirrel that keeps buryin’ acorns in your flowerpots. He means you’re set apart, chosen, cherished, and meant for His purposes. An’, friend, that there purpose is bigger than a barn cat’s bad attitude on a hot day. God never blesses without a reason, and He never promotes without a purpose. When He lifts you up, He’s handin’ you responsibility, not one of them cushy recliners that swallows you whole.
The Israelites heard this promise but never quite stepped into it. They wandered around like a possum tryin’ to read a road map upside down. But the New Testament shines a bright flashlight on the truth. Second Corinthians 1:20 says, “All God’s promises are “yes” in Christ.” And First Peter 2:9 reminds us, “We’re now that royal priesthood, called out of darkness and into His marvelous light.” That there means the prophecy in Exodus is fulfilled in Jesus and handed straight down to you and me like a warm, buttered biscuit fresh out the oven.
So, what does a royal priest do? Well, it ain’t ‘bout wearin’ a fancy robe or wavin’ incense ‘round like a confused raccoon. It’s about prayin’, intercedin’, standin’ in the gap, and usin’ the authority of Jesus’ Name. It’s ‘bout bringin’ God’s will to pass in your home, your town, your country, and even in that one relative’s life who acts like a woodpecker hopped up on too much caffeine. You’re not powerless. Heaven backs you. No earthly fuss or earthly altar can override what God’s already done settled inside you.
Now, friend, picture yourself like a real sturdy oak tree standin’ in the middle of a clearin’. Storms may blow, critters may scurry, and life may get as unpredictable as a turkey gobbler on roller skates, but your roots hold firm ‘cause God Himself planted you. You’re His peculiar treasure. You’re His royal priest. You’re His chosen one for this moment in history. An’ when you walk in that truth, even the sly foxes and busy field mice of trouble have to scoot right on outta your way.
Father, thank You for makin’ me a royal priest in Christ Jesus. Thank You for fulfillin’ Your prophecy and callin’ me into Your marvelous light. Let Your Word prevail in my life and in the lives of those around me. Strengthen me to walk in the authority You’ve already given me. In Jesus’ mighty Name, Amen.
Now, friend, when you git to steppin’ back into the wild rodeo of your day, don’t you git to thinkin’ you’re just meanderin’ through life like a bewildered ol’ armadillo tryin’ to remember which end of him faces traffic. You’re God’s peculiar treasure, handpicked and set apart, shinin’ brighter than a coal‑oil lantern polished by a granny with too much time and not enough hobbies. An’ when you walk in your callin’ as a royal priest, even the troubles that come thunderin’ in like a mud‑caked hog rootin’ for snacks under the porch can’t shake what God’s already nailed down real tight inside you. So, lift that head real high, square them shoulders like you’re ‘bout to lead the parade at the county fair, and march on with the confidence of a rooster who’s plum convinced the sun rises every mornin’ just to hear him crow. ‘Cause the God who called you has already sho’ nuff equipped you, anointed you, and steadied you for every good work waitin’ up ahead, no matter how many critters try to wander across your path.
With joy,
Gwen
