The One Thing About Balaam’s Donkey

donkeyYou know the story—Balaam’s donkey. Talking. Yes, talking. It’s wild, it’s weird, and it’s in the Bible (Numbers 22). In short, you’ve got a prophet on a mission, an angel with a sword, and a donkey that suddenly becomes the most reasonable character in the whole drama. And somehow, in all this strangeness, there’s a truth so sharp and real it feels like it’s cutting straight into our lives.

Let’s walk through it.

Balaam is on his way to curse Israel. As a false prophet, that’s the job. But here’s the catch: God already told him not to go. And yet, Balaam saddles up anyway because, let’s be honest, the paycheck looks good. Ever been there in the ‘stuff’ of your own life? You know it’s not what God’s calling you to do, but it’s easier, more comfortable, maybe even more lucrative.

So, Balaam’s off—not exactly galloping, but he’s on his way. Unexpectedly, the angel of the Lord shows up to block the path. Only Balaam doesn’t see the angel. His donkey does. The donkey sees. The very thing Balaam is riding to get where he wants to go becomes the obstacle to his ambition.

Three times, the donkey swerves or stops, almost doing a handbrake turn trying to save Balaam’s life. And three times, Balaam beats her. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t wonder, doesn’t ask what’s going on. He just frantically lashes out. The donkey is the problem—or so he thinks.

And then—the donkey talks.

“What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” (Numbers 22:28).

Balaam, for his part, doesn’t seem that bothered that the donkey can talk!

It’s funny. It’s absurd. It’s the kind of thing that makes you laugh nervously because you know it’s saying something important—something about how we live and move and rush and beat against the things we don’t understand.

Here’s the Point
This isn’t just a story about a stubborn animal. It’s a story about us.

Because how often do we, like Balaam, assume the thing in our way is the problem? We’re trying to get somewhere, do something, achieve, conquer, move forward—and when something slows us down, we get angry. Frustrated. We blame the roadblock.

But what if the thing we’re cursing is the very thing saving us? What if the closed door, the interruption, the moment that feels like failure is actually grace in disguise?

Balaam could discern God speaking to him but couldn’t see the angel. He couldn’t see that his donkey’s actions were keeping him alive, protecting him. He was so focused on the destination that he missed what God was doing right in front of him.

What Does This Say About God?
Here’s the brilliant, mind-blowing truth: God speaks through the unexpected. He uses the humble, the ordinary, even the absurd, to get our attention—a donkey, and then a manger. A cross.

God’s ways are so upside-down, so counterintuitive to us, that we almost miss them. Jesus Himself came not as a conquering king but as a suffering servant, riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. And we—humanity—didn’t just miss it; we rejected Him, crucified Him.

Yet even in our blindness, God’s grace persisted. That’s the gospel at work. He doesn’t leave us in our stubbornness. He keeps calling, keeps redirecting, keeps speaking—sometimes through the very things we wish weren’t there.

So, What About You?
What’s the donkey in your life? What’s that one thing you keep beating against, resenting, wishing away? What if it’s not the problem? What if it’s saving you from something you can’t see?

Pause. Listen. Pay attention, because sometimes God speaks in the interruptions. Sometimes, He’s in the detours, the delays, the discomfort. And sometimes, the thing that feels like it’s in your way is actually the thing pointing you back to His way.

Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?