Moses is told to stretch his hand toward heaven. Thunder, hail, and fire fall on all of Egypt — the worst storm in the nation's history. Every person and animal left in the open field dies. Every tree is shattered. Every plant is destroyed.
Inside the hail: fire. The two are described together — fire mingled with the ice, lightning within the hailstones, or perhaps fire running along the ground beneath the falling hail. Either way, the plague is a combination of things that should not coexist. It is beyond natural explanation.
But in the land of Goshen, where the children of Israel live, there is no hail. The separation first announced in the plague of flies — "I will set apart the land of Goshen" — holds here again. The storm is precise. It knows where it is and is not permitted.
This is also the plague where, for the first time, some Egyptians believe. Those who feared God's word brought their servants and livestock inside. Those who ignored the warning left them in the field. The plague divides not only between Egypt and Israel but within Egypt itself — between those who hear and those who do not.
