From the Beginning: A Devotional Commentary on Genesis (XIII)

It's interesting how God sometimes uses tiny, seemingly random details in the text to put his finger on things for you, spiritually speaking.  In Genesis 24:11-20, Abraham's servant is looking for a wife for Isaac (at Abraham's behest), and as he's standing beside a well near the city of Nahor, he prays for a sign.  "When the girls come out to draw water, if I ask for a drink, the girl who offers not only to give me a drink, but also to water my camels, may it be that she's the one you've chosen for Isaac."

It was just an offhand thought, but it got me wondering, how big a deal would it be for a girl to water all this guys' camels; so I did some basic math.  Genesis 24:10 says that he had a caravan of 10 camels specifically, and according Google, a thirsty camel can drink up to 40 gallons of water (they had just made a 400 mile trek from Canaan to Haran, so they were probably pretty thirsty).  But even if they were only half thirsty, we're talking about 200 gallons of water to water all 10 camels.  We know that when Rebekah arrives, she's carrying her water pitcher on her shoulder, so it probably wasn't more than 5 gallons, which would have weight about 40 pounds.  What this means is that, for Rebekah to water all 10 camels, it would have taken somewhere between 40-60 trips to the well.  Even at a rate of one trip every 5 minutes, we're talking 3-4 hours.

In other words: the sign this servant of Abraham asked for was: God, let the girl you've chosen for Isaac be someone willing to spend 3-4 hours of grueling manual labour, watering the camels of a perfect stranger, and let her offer to do this freely without being asked.  And this is the very sign God provides: Rebekah waters the camels just exactly the way Abraham's servant prayed it.  And here's where God put his finger on something for me: because this is, when you stop to think about it, a remarkable request for an incredible sign, and yet it's what the servant asked for and it's what the Lord provided.

I gets me wondering if sometimes we low-ball our expectations of God, if we don't ask his Spirit often enough to confirm the path we're meant to take, and if, even when we do seek God's direction on this or that step, we too often limit the possibilities based on our ho-hum common sense of what is or isn't likely to happen. I mean: Good gracious, no one's gonna drop everything and spend the next 4 hours sweating over camels of a perfect stranger, are they?  May God give his people the un-common sense to look for his hand and follow his lead into the least likely possibilities of life with him.