But the Gospel isn’t just a story about all of us—it’s a story for each of us. For me. For you. The infinite God became intimate when he met me on my dad’s couch after a three-day drug binge. He spoke to me in a way that was undeniable, telling me it was time to get sober. Six years into sobriety, he met me again. This time on my back deck, calling me to surrender and follow Jesus after years of knowing about him but resisting knowing him.

That’s where my personal Dayenu begins. Not in a life well-lived, but in the wreckage of my own choices. Not in slavery to a foreign nation, but in slavery to my own sin and suffering. And that is precisely where God chose to meet me.