Saved By The Stop…. Numbers 22: 22-33

There are countless lessons woven into this story. One that deeply resonates with me is the reminder of how loving and merciful God is. Sometimes, what feels like a frustrating delay or an unexpected stop is actually divine protection. In His mercy, God may block our path—not to harm us, but to guard us from what we cannot yet see.

Lets lean in and explore this chapter together.

A quick summary of what’s happening in this chapter: Balaam is on his way to meet King Balak, who has asked him to curse Israel. However, God has already made His will clear—Israel is blessed and will remain blessed. Although Balaam appears to obey God outwardly, his heart is divided. He is drawn to the reward and recognition Balak is offering—money, honor, and promotion.

While Balaam follows God’s instructions on the surface, his motives are misplaced. Greed begins to shape his intentions. And that is where the real issue lies. God’s anger is not simply about Balaam traveling; it is about the condition of his heart. Because of this, the Angel of the Lord stands in the road with a drawn sword, confronting Balaam before he can continue any further. Balaam does not see the angel on His path, but the donkey he is riding does, and she tries to avoid that danger.

Lets turn our attention to the word…

Book of Numbers 22:22–33 (ESV)

22 But God’s anger was kindled because he went, and the angel of the Lord took his stand in the way as his adversary. Now he was riding on the donkey, and his two servants were with him. 23 And the donkey saw the angel of the Lord standing in the road, with a drawn sword in his hand. And the donkey turned aside out of the road and went into the field. And Balaam struck the donkey, to turn her into the road. 24 Then the angel of the Lord stood in a narrow path between the vineyards, with a wall on either side. 25 And when the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she pushed against the wall and pressed Balaam’s foot against the wall. So he struck her again. 26 Then the angel of the Lord went ahead and stood in a narrow place, where there was no way to turn either to the right or to the left. 27 When the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she lay down under Balaam. And Balaam’s anger was kindled, and he struck the donkey with his staff. 28 Then the Lord opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, “What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” 29 And Balaam said to the donkey, “Because you have made a fool of me. I wish I had a sword in my hand, for then I would kill you.” 30 And the donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your donkey, on which you have ridden all your life long to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?” And he said, “No.” 31 Then the Lord opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the angel of the Lord standing in the way, with his drawn sword in his hand. And he bowed down and fell on his face. 32 And the angel of the Lord said to him, “Why have you struck your donkey these three times? Behold, I have come out to oppose you because your way is perverse before me. 33 The donkey saw me and turned aside before me these three times. If she had not turned aside from me, surely just now I would have killed you and let her live.”

When it comes to this passage, something often goes unnoticed. In this passage we are merely introduced to the two servants who were with Balaam on his journey. In Numbers 22:22, it says, “Balaam was riding on the donkey, and his two servants were with him.” In Scripture, the number two often represents witness and confirmation—“by the testimony of two witnesses a matter is established” (Deut. 19:15). Yet here, the two servants stand as witnesses not of obedience, but of spiritual blindness.

They walk the same road as Balaam and observe the same events, yet they do not perceive what God is revealing. They do not see the angel, do not intervene when Balaam strikes the donkey, and offer no correction. They are present—but spiritually unaware.

There is a lesson here: you can have people around you and still be spiritually blind. You can walk with others and still miss God’s warning, correction, or redirection. Balaam’s servants witness the moment but provide no discernment. Their presence reminds us to be cautious about who we surround ourselves with—are they helping us recognize God’s voice, or quietly reinforcing our blindness? God may speak, correct, and reveal, but only a humble and attentive heart will truly see. So we must examine who walks beside us: Are they helping us see God more clearly, or simply walking with us while we move in the wrong direction?

As I reflected on this passage, one detail stood out to me. Why did God allow Balaam’s two servants to be present if they were not going to intervene? At first, it seemed unnecessary. They didn’t step in. They didn’t speak up. They didn’t stop Balaam.

But then I realized—their presence mattered. They were witnesses.

Their role was not to interfere, but to observe. They bore witness to the correction itself. This made the moment undeniable. Later, Balaam would not be able to excuse his anger, dismiss the donkey’s behavior, or reinterpret the encounter as a simple misunderstanding. He couldn’t rewrite the story to protect his pride. Others had seen it. The two servants preserved the testimony of what happened on that road. Their presence ensured that the correction would stand as truth—and as a warning.

But there is another powerful lesson unfolding here. In this passage, Balaam was so stubborn that he struck the very thing God was using to save his life. What he saw as an inconvenience was actually divine intervention. The donkey was not resisting him out of rebellion—it was protecting him from destruction.

How often do we do the same?

We grow frustrated with delays. We become angry at obstacles. We resent interruptions. Yet sometimes the very thing we are fighting against is God’s mercy at work. God can use anything—and anyone—to warn us, redirect us, and shield us from harm. The question is not whether He is speaking. The question is whether we are willing to listen.

Sometimes, the struggle isn’t confusion – it's insistence.

There are moments when we strongly desire something in the flesh, and even when God says “no,” we continue to push for it. We convince ourselves we need it. We pray for it repeatedly. We plead our case.

“God, I want to marry this person.”

“God, I want this relationship to work.”

“God, I need this career.”

But God says no.

And instead of trusting His protection, we insist.

At times, in His love, God will allow us to have the very thing we demand—not to harm us, but to teach us. His “no” was always meant to guard us. But when we refuse to listen, pain often becomes the teacher. We finally receive what we thought we needed… only to discover that it carries frustration, heartache, and consequences we never anticipated.

Yet even then, God’s mercy does not disappear.

Before total destruction can take place, He intervenes again. He removes what would have ultimately consumed us. He stops it midway. Not out of punishment—but out of love. God does not always reveal what lies ahead. Sometimes mercy steps in before we ever reach the cliff. What was meant to correct us will not be allowed to destroy us. And in that stopping, He restores us.

Isaiah 43:1-2 says this:

*“But now, this is what the Lord says— He who created you, Jacob, He who formed you, Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

Let this be a reminder: we will pass through rivers that move fast—just like the situations in our lives that feel overwhelming and out of control. The current may feel strong, but it will not overtake you. It may push against you, but it will not define you. We will also walk through fire—seasons of pain, testing, purification, and suffering. The heat may feel intense. The pressure may feel unbearable. But it will not consume you. God does not always remove the fire. Instead, He walks with His people through it.

As Hebrews 12:6 reminds us, “For the Lord disciplines the one He loves, and chastises every son whom He receives.” What Balaam experienced was not punishment—it was loving correction. God confronted him not to destroy him, but to keep him from destruction. Balaam was spared. He was corrected. And he was still allowed to move forward under God’s instruction. That same mercy is extended to us. God’s intervention may wound our pride, but it saves our lives.

So let me ask you something:

How often do we do what Balaam did?

I’m not just talking about listening to our fleshly desires more than God’s voice—although that’s worth deeper reflection. I’m talking about anger. I’m talking about the way frustration rises in us when things don’t go our way. I’m talking about how quickly we allow irritation to take over and spiritually blind us.

Balaam was so consumed with anger that he struck the very instrument God was using to protect him. How often have we done the same?

How often have we lashed out at delays, people, or closed doors—without realizing they may have been mercy in disguise?

Anger has a way of clouding our vision. It narrows our perspective. It convinces us that the obstacle is the enemy, when in reality it may be protection. The real danger is not just disobedience—it’s spiritual blindness fueled by pride and anger. And yet, even then, God still opens our eyes.

Why do we allow anger to take control? 

Anger becomes sin when it controls us. Ephesians 4:26 says: “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger.” Anger itself is not a sin. It’s what we do after we become angry that determines whether we fall into sin. Anger becomes sinful when it begins to control us.

Sometimes anger causes us to hurt others—just as Balaam struck the donkey three times. Instead of pausing to ask why the donkey resisted, Balaam reacted in rage. In his frustration, he failed to see that the donkey was actually protecting him.

When anger takes over, it blinds us. We can end up wounding the very people—or even the very circumstances—God is using to help us.

Balaam’s failure wasn’t just his anger. It was also his refusal to recognize God’s warning signs. The donkey pressed his foot against the wall to avoid the angel’s sword. That crushed foot wasn’t judgment—it was mercy. It saved his life.

Yet because of Balaam’s stubbornness and disobedience, he still felt pain in the process. And we do the same. We hurt because we ignore God’s warnings. We reject His instructions. We lean on our own understanding instead of trusting His wisdom. And the result? We end up wounded.

In this chapter, we see something crucial: our emotions can mislead us. Feelings are powerful, but they are not always trustworthy. Anger, frustration, disappointment—if unchecked—can distort our spiritual vision.

That is why  Proverbs 3:5–6 reminds us:“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

Notice it doesn’t say trust your emotions. It doesn't say lean on your own perspective. It says trust Him. When we trust God, He straightens the path— even if it feels blocked.

Balaam’s emotions and desires misled him. He was spiritually blinded—not only by anger, but by greed. His heart was divided. And when our hearts are divided, our vision becomes distorted. This is why our will must align with God’s will.

When we follow our own will, it often leads to pain, misdirection, or compromise. But when our will aligns with God, He ensures protection, purpose, and blessing—even when the path feels uncomfortable.

God will use anything—or anyone—to speak to us. The issue is not how He speaks. The issue is whether we are willing to listen. Balaam was so spiritually blinded that he missed what was right in front of him. He did not recognize that the donkey was being used to save his life. He did not even realize the donkey was speaking to him. Only when God opened his eyes did he realize that what he thought was resistance was actually protection. God intervened before destruction occurred. And that’s what mercy does—it steps in before it’s too late.

Let this be a lesson for us:

God may allow obstacles, delays, and even uncomfortable correction—not to punish us, but to protect us and redirect us. What feels like restriction may actually be rescue. May we humble ourselves and choose obedience for our own good. May we be willing to listen. May we refuse to be spiritually blinded by emotion or fleshly desire.

God’s guidance and protection are far greater than our temporary wants or limited understanding—even when we cannot see the full picture ourselves. 

Let us settle in this truth.

Amen.