Learning to Live On Purpose with Shiphrah & Puah

January is always an odd time of year for me. I'm grateful to see another one. At that same time, there's always a little bit of sadness when I think about all of the things I wanted to accomplish and didn't. Even with thinking about the "could haves" and "should haves", I always approach January with a renewed sense of this one is going to be better. Is it that way for you, too? January always shows up with big expectations. New year, new goals, new planners we swear we’ll keep up with this time. Somewhere between the vision boards and the grocery receipts, we start asking the same quiet question: “What am I actually supposed to be doing?”

Enter Shiphrah and Puah—two women whose names don’t get mentioned nearly enough, and who definitely weren’t trying to “find their purpose” the way we tend to talk about it today.

These women were Hebrew midwives living under Pharaoh’s rule, when obeying God quietly became an act of courage. Pharaoh gave them a direct order: kill the Hebrew baby boys at birth. No loopholes. No ambiguity. Just a command that clashed head-on with their reverence for God.

And here’s the part I love—they didn’t organize a protest, write a manifesto, or make a dramatic announcement. Scripture simply says they feared God and did not do as the king of Egypt commanded (Exodus 1:17). Purpose, for them, looked like obedience in the small, unseen moments. Purpose showed up in whispered decisions, steady hands, and the refusal to participate in something that dishonored God.

If this were today, Shiphrah and Puah would probably be the women doing the right thing quietly while everyone else is trying to go viral.

What stands out isn’t just what they did—it’s how God responded. Scripture tells us that God dealt well with the midwives and even gave them families of their own. Their obedience mattered. Their choices were seen. Their purpose wasn’t overlooked just because it wasn’t flashy.

And isn’t that reassuring?

Because most of us aren’t standing in front of Pharaoh-level decisions. We’re standing in kitchens, workplaces, group chats, doctor’s offices, and school parking lots—wondering if what we’re doing even counts. Shiphrah and Puah remind us that purpose doesn’t require a platform; it requires faithfulness.

Sometimes purpose is:

• Saying no when it would be easier to say yes

• Protecting life, dignity, or truth when no one is applauding

• Doing the next right thing because it honors God

January doesn’t need to be about reinventing yourself. It can simply be about realigning yourself—choosing obedience again, even when it feels ordinary.

So as we step into this new year, let’s take a cue from these two brave women. Let’s stop waiting for purpose to feel big or impressive and start trusting that God is already working through our everyday yes.

Because purpose isn’t something we chase.

It’s something we live—on purpose.