Estimated reading time: about 16-18 minutes
Exodus 8:22 16 (20) Adonai said to Moshe, “Get up early in the morning, stand before Pharaoh when he goes out to the water and say to him, ‘Here is what Adonai says: “Let my people go, so that they can worship me. 17 (21) Otherwise, if you won’t let my people go, I will send swarms of insects on you, your servants and your people, and into your houses. The houses of the Egyptians will be full of swarms of insects, and likewise the ground they stand on. 18 (22) But I will set apart the land of Goshen, where my people live — no swarms of insects will be there — so that you can realize that I am Adonai, right here in the land. 19 (23) Yes, I will distinguish between my people and your people, and this sign will happen by tomorrow.”’” 20 (24) Adonai did it: terrible swarms of insects went into Pharaoh’s palace and into all his servants’ houses — the insects ruined the entire land of Egypt.
Ok, isn’t this practically the same plague we saw before? Swarms of bugs sure do sound awfully familiar.
Well, it’s not really the same. Before, there were tiny bugs that simply annoyed people. They came and stole the comfort from anyone and everyone they touched but they appeared to have left everything else alone. Here, however, we have insects that are not just annoying but destructive as well. So destructive that they ruined the land.
The Hebrew word here for “ruined” is שָׁחַת (shachath), which carries the sense of corrupted, spoiled, destroyed, perverted. It’s the same word used to describe the land in Noah’s time:
Genesis 6:12 God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt (shachath), for all flesh had corrupted (shachath) their way on the earth.
The insects didn’t just annoy -- they corrupted the land, making it foul, unusable, defiled. Homes, fields, sacred spaces were all invaded and spoiled. The fertile land that Egypt boasted in was revealed as fragile and collapsible under God’s judgment.
But it wasn’t the entirety of the land that was corrupted.
Up until now, Scripture never mentions a distinction between Israel and Egypt. When the Nile turned to blood, all the water in Egypt became undrinkable. Frogs overran the land, and lice/gnats came upon people and animals everywhere. Nothing in the text limits this to Egyptians alone. This implies that the children of Israel, living in Goshen, likely endured the first three plagues along with their neighbors.
But here, for the first time, Abba goes out of His way to say He will set apart the land of Goshen. There was no mention of this before, and yet now we see a very clear divide between Israel and Egypt. (This separation will be repeated in several of the later plagues as well.)
From the Egyptian perspective, the earlier plagues may have looked like strange natural disasters or failures of their gods, but there was no obvious tie to Israel. Pharaoh knew the Hebrews were involved because of Moses’ demands, but the general population could have dismissed it as random chaos.
Plague 4 changed that. Egyptians didn’t just suffer, they suffered while watching Goshen remain untouched. That was a sign no one could miss. At some point Pharaoh and his court must have acknowledged that this was tied to the God of the Hebrews, because the difference was too blatant to explain away. From this point forward, the plagues were no longer anonymous disasters. They were targeted judgments aimed at Egypt, and everyone would have started talking about it.
And talk they did. The distinction between Goshen and the rest of Egypt was too striking to stay hidden -- the story had to spread quickly into the ears of the people.
Up until this point everything happened almost instantly.
With plague 1 Moses strikes the Nile immediately; the water turns to blood on the spot. Plague 2, the frogs come up at once after Aharon stretches out his hand. When Pharaoh asks for relief, Moses prays and they die out the next day. But that’s a timing of removal, not of the plague’s arrival. Finally, with plague 3 Aharon strikes the dust immediately, and lice/gnats appear right away.
Then with plague 4 we get something new:
“I will make a distinction between My people and your people. This sign will happen tomorrow.”
So the plague itself is scheduled ahead of time, not just its ending. Think about how quickly this juicy news traveled around. The magicians had an epiphany with plague 3 that it was the “Finger of God” doing these things, so when they hear about this scheduled event, how quickly do you think the news made its way through the land? If our own lives are any kind of witness, it probably happened absurdly fast.
“Hey, so I was talking with one of Pharaoh’s magicians and he said that the water to blood thing, the frogs, and the lice -- yeah, apparently they had something to do with this Moses guy asking for those hicks up in Goshen to be allowed to leave. I guess Pharaoh refused so their God did these things to us. Now, I’m not too sure that’s the real reason but one thing he did say that was weird is that another attack is coming tomorrow. But here’s the kicker, those people in Goshen won’t be affected. We’ll see, huh? But they also said Y2K was going to be catastrophic -- and I’m still eating the grain from those buckets…”
A story this good would move, right? Now imagine what the mindset would be once it hit right on time.
Repentance, right?! Well, put yourself in their shoes and let’s see.
If you believed in your god(s) and all of this happened to you, while the follower of the other god was untouched, what would you do? Would you shift allegiance or double-down on your own position? In light of how these plagues progressed, we of course would repent and lay down our cultural worship in order to serve the One True God, right?
Not so fast. Let’s put this in terms that apply to us and see how easily we’d be moved.
A good number of people these days choose country over God. (Some are even worse and say that our country somehow is God but that’s a whole other issue.) The priests of the land are our politicians, civic leaders, and grassroots organizers, and we casually turn our worship towards them -- not overtly, but practically. And this is very hard to break off.
Suppose you heard that tomorrow, a large bit of your comfort and resources were going to be wiped out but the immigrants on the other side of town wouldn’t be touched. What’s the cultural response?
I’d guess a large number of us here in the good ol’ US of A would be outraged if those folks that don’t belong here were to become immune to judgment falling upon our land. Imagine, your house and yard packed full of destructive insects while “that other family over there from that other country over there” remains untouched. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how a lot of locals would react. It’s got to be <<enter the other political party>>’s fault this is all happening, right?
Ok, ok, enough poking the bear. The point is that something fishy is clearly going on if my god is getting whooped by their God. Especially when I’m convinced my cultural god is the God.
“I grew up believing _______, and of course I have to be right. No chance those people over there have the same depth of truth I have. Besides, an entire community can’t be wrong, can it?”
Well, according to what happened in ancient Egypt, yeah, it can be. It’s this entrenched belief structure that has all of the Egyptian locals fully and totally convinced they are in the right. All the while being totally wrong.
So here we go…it’s going to take yet another battle between the Egyptian pantheon and YHVH Himself to try and rattle the cages.
The gods that likely get challenged here are Khepri and Uatchit.
Khepri was the scarab-headed god associated with the rising sun, rebirth, and renewal. Every morning as the sun appeared on the horizon, Egyptians believed Khepri had rolled it across the sky like a dung beetle rolling its ball. The scarab beetle became one of the most iconic images in Egyptian culture. They are carved into amulets, worn as jewelry, and buried in tombs as symbols of protection and eternal life. To the Egyptians, the presence of beetles and swarming insects wasn’t just common, it was tied to the cycle of life itself. They represented continuity, vitality, and divine order. In other words, time.
Uatchit (also called Wadjet) was another figure associated with insects, often represented as a fly goddess. Flies in Egyptian thought were linked to persistence, boldness, and even protection in warfare. Soldiers were sometimes honored with golden fly pendants for bravery, drawing on her symbolism. In the minds of Egyptians, Uatchit embodied the strength to endure and the ability to harass one’s enemies until victory was won. Insects, under her patronage, were not merely pests, they were tokens of divine favor, endurance, and military might. We can call this persistence.
The fourth plague turns these associations upside down. Instead of insects being protective or life-giving, they become an invasive force that corrupts the land and makes daily life unbearable. The gods meant to control or bless through these creatures are powerless to stop them. The scarab, symbol of rebirth, now heralds decay and ruin. The fly, once a badge of military honor, becomes an endless tormenter in homes and palaces alike. The very symbols that Egyptians trusted in for protection and vitality are twisted into judgment, showing that what they worshipped as gods were actually under YHVH’s command.
For Israel, this was a powerful revelation. YHVH was not just dismantling Pharaoh’s political authority, He was exposing the emptiness of Egypt’s religion. Khepri and Uatchit were woven deeply into Egypt’s culture, art, and daily life, and were shown to be powerless idols. Instead of granting protection or life, they were revealed as conduits of corruption.
The swarms made Egypt’s land unlivable, echoing the same word used to describe the corruption of the world in Noah’s day. Through this plague, God demonstrated that only He governs creation, and only He can distinguish His people from the nations.
Although these gods were destroyed in the eyes of the Egyptians, their spirit lives on even today.
In today’s world, Khepri’s scarab echoes in our obsession with renewal, productivity, and self-reinvention. The beetle rolling its ball was an ancient image of endless forward motion, much like our cultural drive to always be hustling, upgrading, “leveling up” -- literally anything that runs opposite of decay.
We wear our productivity like an amulet, trusting it will give us security and meaning. But when the swarms descend, and when life fills with busyness, noise, and endless demands, that very pursuit of renewal can corrupt the land of our lives. Instead of fresh beginnings, we find exhaustion and ruin. The plague unmasks our idol: constant productivity doesn’t save, it devours.
Uatchit’s fly fits just as neatly into the modern psyche. Flies in Egypt symbolized endurance and the honor of persistence in battle. Today, we prize relentlessness. Grit, never giving up, proving ourselves in competition. Athletes, entrepreneurs, even soldiers of culture are awarded “flies of gold” in the form of medals, promotions, or accolades. But the plague turns this symbol upside down. The swarm of flies doesn’t represent persistence, it represents harassment and futility. Our cultural drive to keep pushing often leaves us surrounded by constant buzzing distractions which translates to more enemies than victories. What was once a mark of honor becomes a torment that makes life unlivable.
Together, Khepri and Uatchit show us that the very symbols we lean on for life, strength, and protection can become instruments of corruption when they replace YHVH. Egypt trusted in the scarab and the fly; modern culture trusts in productivity and grit. But when Abba exposes the idol, He shows us that life, protection, and endurance come from Him alone, not from the swarms we create around ourselves.
So what is actually on the chopping block here?
Time. And our conquering of it.
We learn here that time is under Abba’s authority. And in an ironic show of force, He schedules the dismantling of these gods of time.
The gods of hustle made time into a tyrant, something to be beaten, bent, or outrun. Khepri’s scarab rolling the sun across the sky was the ultimate picture of endless striving, a cosmos that never stopped moving and demanded you keep pace. But YHVH steps in and demonstrates that He is the Master of time itself. The plague does not arrive randomly, like some cosmic accident. It arrives tomorrow, exactly when He says, and it ends exactly when He says. Time bends to His voice. In doing so, He dismantles the myth that productivity or endurance can ever secure us. What we call “hustle” is simply running in circles under the illusion that time can be conquered by effort.
In the Kingdom, productivity is not measured by grit or hours but by obedience and fruit. Yeshua never hurried, yet He accomplished everything the Father gave Him to do. He even said before the cross:
John 17:4 “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do”
Loving others, serving faithfully, building what lasts and none of these should drain us into ruin. When they do, it’s a sign that we’ve slipped back under the idols of hustle. The plague against Khepri and Uatchit teaches that endurance and renewal flow not from frantic motion but from resting in God’s timing.
This plague also reveals that YHVH is not a God absent from time, as if He merely floats outside of it. He is the God who fills time with His presence, who appoints moments, who sanctifies rhythms. The Sabbath is a weekly reminder that productivity is not about doing more, but about trusting more — trusting that our Father is the one who provides, protects, and renews. The feasts of Israel are called moedim, “appointed times,” where heaven and earth meet in covenant. To be His people is to live by the appointments He sets, not by the clocks we fear.
So when the swarms overran Egypt “tomorrow,” it was not just a judgment on their land, it was a judgment on their worldview. They believed time was endless striving, but YHVH revealed that time is a covenant space. It is the holy moments He ordains, seasons He controls, rhythms He redeems. In fact, we are in the midst of such a season right now.
Abba doesn’t leave us harassed by the swarm of hours. He anchors us in the fullness of His time. And the word He used for “distinguish” (pedut, redemption) tells us He was doing more than simply drawing a line. He was redeeming His people out of judgment and into His own flow of life.
So how about you?
Are you busy today? Are you swamped? Is your time vaporizing before your very eyes? Are those swarming insects filling your home, your schedule, your thoughts? Are they destroying the very land you count on for provision?
If you live in today’s striving, driving, always-on culture, then all of these are probably true for you. And that’s ok. Abba may let it ride for a while, but when His whisper of “tomorrow” comes, it is not a threat, it is an invitation. Step out of the swarm and into His appointments. His tomorrow is redemption, a call into rhythms of rest, trust, and freedom.
The punchline: Productivity in the Kingdom should never be based on grit, determination, and long hours. More than that, loving others should not be exhausting.
If it is, perhaps tomorrow will be better.