Such a small detail… but John never wastes ink. John 20:6–7 tells us that when Peter entered the tomb, he saw the linen burial cloths lying there and the face cloth that had been around Jesus’ head was folded and set aside by itself. This wasn’t random. And it wasn’t the result of a rushed escape or grave robbery. In Jewish burial, the head cloth was wrapped tightly around the face and jaw. Lazarus came out of the tomb still bound in his grave clothes and had to be unwrapped. But Jesus didn’t. The grave clothes were simply left behind. The head cloth was calmly folded and placed aside. This was the scene of Someone who didn’t struggle out of death He passed straight through it. John includes this detail so we understand: this wasn’t theft, panic, or resuscitation. This was resurrection. Order where there should have been chaos. Peace where there should have been disturbance. The grave clothes are lying there. The body has not been unwrapped. The head cloth is not torn off in haste. It is folded and set aside. This is not the scene of a grave robbery. This is not the scene of panic. This is not the scene of someone escaping. The last time a cloth touched Jesus’ face, it was in death. The first act of the risen Christ was to remove it and leave it in the grave. He will never wear a burial cloth again. Death was not escaped. It was defeated. The first Adam was wrapped in shame and hid his face. The last Adam removes the cloth from His face and leaves it in the grave. No more hiding. No more death. No more covering. Just life.

As I went about my life, the jar became flawed. At times I was broken, chipped, scarred. I leaked. I was no longer fit for purpose. Yet I carried on, trying my best to be whole. “You are the Potter and I am the clay.” I cried, “I am no longer fit for purpose. I cannot hold anything.” But the Master Potter reshapes and rebuilds broken vessels. Even when broken, a vessel is not useless in the hands of the Master. I surrender the vessel of my life to You. Place me on Your wheel. Reshape, remould, remake something beautiful from this broken vessel. The breaking hurts. The remoulding is painful. The process takes time. It is only in Your hands that I can become a choice vessel again. As You shape and mould me, I forget what I was before. I become new. The scars are no longer visible in the lines. You rework me as You see fit, For You are the Master Potter. You take care over each broken piece As You put me back together, The finest of gold joining each fracture In a design of Your choosing. Your power is at work, changing me, So I can hold the precious treasure of Your Spirit. As I wait and look back, I am no longer the vessel I once was. You shaped me, made me new, Filled me afresh with purpose, Gave me new life. The time in Your hands made me stronger. Though the shaping was painful, The broken vessel is useful once more.

Moses and Aaron were in the same story, had seen the same miracles, heard the same voice of God but they responded very differently under pressure from the people. When the people panic and demand a god they can see, Aaron yields. He listens to the crowd more than to the covenant. He knows the Lord is not a golden calf. He knows the commands. But in that moment, the fear of people outweighs the fear of God. Moses, on the other hand, comes down the mountain and confronts the people. He refuses to let their pressure redefine what faithfulness looks like. It’s a sobering picture spiritual experience does not automatically produce spiritual courage. But here’s the beautiful part you see Aaron’s failure is not the end of his story. Aaron should have been finished. He isn’t. God still appoints him as high priest. God still allows his family line to carry the priesthood. God disciplines, but He does not discard. So in one chapter we see both the danger of people pleasing leadership the mercy of God toward flawed leaders Moses shows us the heart of a mediator. Aaron shows us the grace of God toward those who fail. And together they point to Jesus the perfect High Priest and the perfect Mediator who never wavers under pressure, and yet covers those who do.

In Exodus 32, after the golden calf, God says to Moses: “Go down, for your people, whom you brought out of Egypt, have corrupted themselves.” Only chapters earlier God had said, “I am the Lord who brought you out.” This shift isn’t anger it’s covenant language. Israel has broken the covenant. In courtroom terms, they’ve stepped outside the relationship. Then God does something extraordinary. He offers to wipe them out and start again with Moses. Moses could have become the new Abraham. A fresh start. A clean legacy. But he refuses. He doesn’t defend the people’s behaviour. He defends God’s promise. “O Lord, why does your wrath burn against your people, whom you brought out” Moses throws the responsibility back to God’s covenant, God’s name, God’s faithfulness. He stands between a holy God and a guilty people and pleads for mercy. Later he even says, “Blot me out instead of them.” Moses shows the heart of a mediator but he can’t actually be the substitute. Jesus will. Where Moses pleads, Jesus pays. Where Moses offers himself, Jesus gives Himself. Where Moses stands in the gap, Jesus becomes the bridge. This is why Moses is such a powerful picture of Christ. He couldn’t do what only Jesus could but he reveals the kind of Mediator humanity would one day need.

The rain falls on the good and the evil alike. Rain can be a blessing to some and a burden to others. In seasons of dryness, rain brings relief. In seasons of abundance, too much rain can bring heartache. Yet rain is always a sign of something deeper healing, provision, and restoration. God doesn’t just send rain. He sends abundant rain. Scripture speaks of the former and the latter rain the early rain for planting and the latter rain for harvest. When God sends the latter rain, it marks a season of overflow, restoration, and accelerated fruitfulness. It’s not only about recovering what was lost, but receiving double for the trouble endured Joel 2:25. Psalm 147:8 says, He covers the sky with clouds; He supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills. Rain prepares the ground for fruitfulness. Hardened soil cannot grow anything, but rain softens the earth so it can receive seed and bring forth life. In the same way, the Holy Spirit uses spiritual rain His presence, His Word, His love to soften our hearts, wash away bitterness, and prepare us for transformation. Even trials can feel like storms, but often they carry the very water we need to grow. Don’t despise your rainy days. They are preparation for divine growth. God is cultivating something in you, even when the sky is grey.