To Walk With God – Leviticus 26

He is not silent.
He is not distant.
He is the One
who split the sea,
who broke the yoke,
who carried you out of Egypt
when your arms were too weak to lift.

You didn’t earn rescue.
You were just there—
and he came.

Forty-nine times
his name pulses through Leviticus:
I am the Lord.
This is not legislation for its own sake.
It is the character of God,
etched into commands.

He speaks not to control
but to invite.
His holiness
is not a wall
but a path.

God loves like a hurricane—
not gentle,
but good.

“If you walk in my decrees…”
This is not threat.
It’s promise.

Vines heavy with fruit.
Gates without fear.
Land at rest.
Children playing where once there was war.
You will eat in fullness
and lie down in peace.

He will walk among you—
not cloaked in smoke,
but near,
like a companion
who adjusts his pace
to your uneven stride.
Walking is obedience,
but more than that—
it is belonging.

God loves like a hurricane—
and blessing is the calm
that follows surrender.

But if you will not walk with him,
if you harden your hearts
and close your ears—
then the storm breaks.

Diseases, wild beasts,
plagues that don’t spare the strong.
Sieges where cities fall silent,
where even the memory of laughter
is lost.

Not punishment out of proportion,
but a covenant unraveling.
This is what it means
to break the bond.
To refuse the God
who walked beside you.

These curses are not accidents.
They are the withdrawal of blessing.
The denial
of everything promised
to Abraham:
land, name, future, favour.
This is grief
from a God who will not be trivialised.

God loves like a hurricane—
and sometimes hurricanes tear down
what refuses to bend.

But even now—
after all this—
he calls.

If they confess…
If they name their crookedness
and drop their pride—
he will remember.

Not their sin,
but his promise.
Not their shame,
but his mercy.

He holds the land in his hand.
He holds their future.
He holds them still.

He disciplines those he loves—
but not to destroy,
only to call home.
His justice is loud.
His grace, louder.
His arms remain open.

God loves like a hurricane—
relentless,
restorative,
ready.

So now,
will you walk?
Not to win him—
you’re already his.
Not to avoid pain—
but to share joy.

To walk with God
is to live.
And to live
is to be caught
in the wild,
unbreaking,
unrelenting love
of a God who—

longs with tenderness
to dwell among his people,
whose holiness burns
and cannot coexist with sin,
whose pursuit never tires
even when we turn our backs,
and whose mercy
draws people back
even after judgement.

God loves like a hurricane.
It’s not a love we can control.
But it is a love that we can trust.
Will you walk with him?

Original message by Sean Tan, The Bridge Church Macquarie Park NSW
6 July 2025