Jan 06, 2010
Then Moses said to them, “No one is to keep any of it until morning.” (Exodus 16:19) The story is thousands of years old, but little has changed. God still does what he said he would do. And we still do what God told us not to do. As for God, he has forever been and always will be our provider. God knows what you need. God gladly listens to what you want – but he knows perfectly what you need. And what you need will not be withheld. Even in those moments when our needs and wants overlap, and we express our wants with impatience and speak of our lack with resentment. Even in those moments God graciously provides. That’s the way it was in the wilderness. That’s the way it is right now. And as for us, we cheat. With our worry we scoop up tomorrow’s bread. Not content to gather Monday’s provision, our minds are already plotting Tuesday. Gratitude for what we find on the ground today quickly withers in the heat of our anxiety over next week, or next month. We pray as Jesus taught us: “Give us this day our daily bread.” But we break the rules. We try to gather for tomorrow or for the months and years ahead. That’s the way it was in the wilderness. That’s the way it is right now. When God provided manna to the Hebrews he gave some clear instruction on how it was to be gathered. They were to collect only what was needed for that day, no more, no less. The manna could not be stored overnight; they could not carefully ration out one days allotment so as to be sure that there would be breakfast the next morning. If they tried, they’d soon detect the stench of rotting manna filling their tents. These instructions were given in order to teach them. With every new morning they would learn something about God. Their boldness in his goodness would grow with each sunrise as the dew lifted and the day’s provision lay on the ground. They were learning to trust, to let go. One can easily imagine that in the darkness of the night, after the day’s manna had been consumed at supper time, after the children were sleeping, some fathers were lying awake and wondering if it would be there again in the morning. Having been schooled in trust that morning, the darkness of night brought the moment of surrender. Could they depend on what they were learning every day about their God? Could they let go of their anxieties about feeding the family and know that God would provide? Could they sleep? Surrender is what your soul does in the dark of night that allows you to sleep, at rest in the care of God. We spend a lifetime learning to do this. Every new morning is a chance to learn again or perhaps to learn more. Two questions to guide your praying this morning: How did you sleep last night? What will you learn today? Prayer: Forever for HIM! Mitch
Gracious God, you have always been faithful to provide what we need. You know what we need before we ask. And yet, we brood over tomorrow as if, for some random and unknown reason, you will forget us. Forgive the fear that keeps us awake at night and the pride that drives us to gather as much as we can each day. Teach us trust you more with every new morning, we pray. Amen.
Dec 08, 2009
Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory” (Exodus 33:18) I like saying “yes.” Saying “yes” often enough tilts the odds in my favor when it comes to being well thought of, known as a great guy. This feels good to me. So I say yes quite a bit; sometimes I say it when I ought to say “no” or “sorry.” The long conversation with God that spans Exodus 32-33 shows Moses before God in a gutsy act of intercession. He’s shameless in his requests. He makes no excuses, he offers no rationalizations. God is justified in his anger at Israel – but Moses prays on their behalf anyway. He does more than pray. He keeps raising the stakes with every petition, growing bolder, willing to test the limits of mercy, unafraid to push the envelope of grace. His prayer finally culminates in one go-for-broke petition. “Now show me your glory.” And God said, “no.” A “yes” simply wasn’t possible because God’s glory, 100 proof, would have killed Moses. No one could look at God’s face and live. While all prayer is directed to God, there is a kind of praying that is aimed at something other than God. We pray for health. We pray for rain. We pray for a baby. We pray for a raise or a new job. We pray for our children. We pray for others to know Christ. We pray for our spouse. We pray to find a spouse. All of these are good and worthy prayers. Jesus himself taught us to ask and seek and knock, to pray for our daily bread. But there’s another dimension to prayer that seeks nothing more than God, and God alone. There’s a kind of praying that yearns for God, to know God, to be in God’s company. We get prayers like this from the Psalms: “My soul thirsts for God” (Psalm 42:2). This may be the highest form of prayer. The challenge for us is that we are far more aware of actually wanting other things. We ache to have the job or a baby or a clean pathology report – and if God can’t come through, well then . . . What are you praying for today? What are the most pressing desires you bring to prayer? Try this: for a few moments, borrow the words of Moses’ brash prayer. Get bold and ask for a fresh glimpse into God’s character, God’s love for you, God’s goodness, God’s power and strength. Linger a while with that prayer, and it might impact how you pray for everything else. Prayer: Forever for HIM! Mitch
We acknowledge, O God, that our prayers are often small. We give you thanks for the way you invite us to bring our needs and requests to you. And we know that beneath all of our desires is our need for you. Reveal yourself to us today in a new way; teach us more of who you are. Give us just a glimpse of your glory, we pray. Amen.
Oct 20, 2009
Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go with you . . . Then Moses said to him, if your presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here (Exodus 33:3, 15).
Let’s be honest. It’s hard to find real encouragement for our prayer lives by looking at the example of Moses. What Moses experienced with God is extraordinary. Yes, Moses himself was unremarkable – but God chose to connect with Moses in some remarkable ways; ways that are not often repeated, even in the Bible.
I doubt that many of us will ever experience anything that remotely resembles the prayer life of Moses. There goes Moses, climbing a mountain and disappearing into a cloud of mystery for weeks on end. Here comes Moses, back from his mountain retreat, veiling his glowing face. There goes Moses into his tent of meeting, the pillar of cloud coming down and guarding the entrance. This is all great stuff, but it doesn’t happen at 1008 8th St in Shallowater.
When it comes to the way Moses prayed, I’m left in the dust. But when it comes to what he prayed, I’m with him completely. I get it. I understand what he’s after because Moses wants what we all want. Moses desperately wants to know that God is with him. At a basic level that may be the reason why we pray. We don’t pray to get things or to get our way. We pray because we need to know that God is present.
After the golden calf debacle, Moses engaged in some intense intercession on behalf of Israel. God was ready to hit ‘delete’ on the file named “journey to promised land.” Moses pleads with God not to do this. After some lengthy back and forth, Moses secures this concession from God. “Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey, but I will not go with you.” In other words, God will allow them to reach their intended destination. Only when they arrive, God won’t be there. What’s more, as they journey they’ll be on their own as well.
This is what Moses cannot accept. The removal of God’s presence makes God’s gifts empty and hollow. Moses grows bold in his prayer: “If your presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here.”
The presence of God makes all the difference, no matter what life brings. The worst life can throw at us, the things we fear most, are bearable when God is present. And if God is not present, the best things in life, the things we strive for, the “promised-land” – these turn out to be a mirage. No substance.
The presence of God is the one thing we cannot do without. God may not answer our prayers by granting the outcomes we desire – but we will not pray unless we know that God is near to hear our request. God’s presence pulls prayer from us. God’s presence keeps us praying, patiently asking, humbly confessing. Our prayers are deeply rooted in the presence. That means we can pray boldly today because Jesus has made this promise: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Prayer:
There are times, O Lord, when we wonder if you’re with us. There are times when we know you are present, but we fail to be present to you. Remind us today of your faithful presence in all things. Let our awareness of your presence shape who we are and how we live. Walk with us, and help us to walk with you. Amen.
Forever for HIM!
Mitch
Aug 11, 2009
Now Moses used to take a tent and pitch it outside the camp some distance away, calling it the “tent of meeting.” Anyone inquiring of the Lord would go to the tent of meeting outside the camp” (Exodus 33:7).
Whenever the people of God broke camp to wander yet a few steps more in the wilderness, the ritual would have to be repeated. How many times did Moses unpack the bundled fabric and throw it over his shoulder, carrying poles under one arm, making his trek away from the clutter and chaos of the encampment; how long did it take to build the frame that gave shape to the tent; how hard was it to drive stakes deep enough into the desert ground so that the structure would stay upright? Tents are hard work, but those simple shelters have often been the site of something sacred.
Tents are hard work, but the labor is worth it when God shows up. Gone are the days of "tent revivals" but thousands upon thousands put there faith in Jesus Christ in those sacred places. There were some souls for whom that tent was truly a “tent of meeting.” Maybe that’s what kept Moses diligent in pitching his tent. God showed up and met him there.
We can pray anytime in any place, we’re told. It’s true. After all, Moses pitched his tent in more than one place. But maybe there’s something to be said for identifying a sacred space in our lives, a place where we go to meet with God. These days church sanctuaries are about as close as most people come to a sacred space. But Moses pitching his tent suggests something more than a formal worship setting. The Hebrew verb used for “pitch” is a word that connotes personal use. We need a tent, as it were. Jesus gave us a similar image in his Sermon on the Mount when he spoke of entering the prayer “closet.”
With the lives we live and the schedules we keep, pitching a tent isn’t easy. It’s as labor intensive for us as it was for Moses. Prayer requires some preparation, intentionality. Haphazard utterances won’t sustain a life of faith, at least not one of depth. Whatever your tent looks like, learn a couple of things from Moses.
First, he pitched the tent “some distance” away from the camp. A life of prayer needs some distance from the noise and banter that dominates our waking hours. Prayer needs the kind of stillness that allows your pulse to slow just a little.
Second, the people who needed to inquire of the Lord came to the tent. Prayer isn’t escapist; it’s not a way to ditch tiring people and their exhausting demands. Though pitched at some distance from the camp, the camp finds its way to the place of prayer. Prayer brings the needs and struggles and anxieties of real life before God.
What would it take for you to pitch a tent – far enough from the clutter of your life, but close enough to bring every part of that clutter before God? Where is your sacred space?
Prayer:
We give you thanks, Lord, for the many different ways in which you meet us. You find us in offices and airports, in parks and malls. Help us in our efforts to find you; help us to create a sacred space where we enter your presence and bring our lives before you. Give us grace that we might be willing to prepare ourselves to listen in obedient faith. Amen.
Forever for HIM!
Mitch
Jul 14, 2009
Then the angel of God, who had been traveling in front of Israel’s army, withdrew and went behind them . . . coming between the armies of Israel and Egypt (Exodus 14:19-20).
Long walks through the desert are hard and risky. The wilderness route is void of exit ramps and clean rest areas. There’s not much to see; the desert is numbingly dull and redundant. But there’s one thing that can make the most arduous desert journey a glorious venture: the very presence of the living God.
When the Hebrews left Egypt they didn’t simply scurry away in an exuberant escape from oppression and slavery. The Exodus from Egypt was guided; the people were led. “By day the Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light . . . neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people” (Exodus 13:21-22).
This pillar was the presence of God, and it was visibly placed at the head of the line. God was showing the way, guiding their steps, giving direction. When you know without a doubt that God is in front of you, you’ll go just about anywhere.
And then the day of trouble came; chariots and horses and battalions kicking up sand and narrowing the barren gap that separated the Hebrews from their would-be captors. The day of trouble came, and the presence of God that had been visibly up front withdrew and moved behind them. There is much the story leaves out at this point. Did the people see and understand what was happening? Perhaps they did. As for us . . . well, that’s a question to ponder for a moment.
We hit the day of trouble and often become painfully aware of God’s absence. God no longer seems to be leading us, we don’t know where to go, we’re not sure what’s next.
Typically, we look for God in front of us. Faith is best exercised as we look forward. So much mystery lies ahead of us, our lives cloaked in a future we don’t yet know. We search for God’s presence in the not-yet-revealed.
But as we strain to see what’s ahead of us and agonize over the presence of God that we used to see but can no longer detect, that very presence remains with us. The presence withdraws from our point of focus and moves behind us. God is working powerfully in the places we’re not looking.
Yes, it’s clear that God formed a buffer between the Egyptians and the Hebrews; God was buying time, giving them a huge head start through the walls of water. But perhaps something else was happening at the same time. Maybe God moved behind them to protect them from their urge to turn back; God moved behind them to teach them that what looks like his absence, his withdrawal, is simply his presence surprising us. Sometimes, before the waters part in front of us, God goes to work behind us.
Prayer:
Ever present God, we are quick to complain of your absence. As we take a few more steps today in our own journey of faith, surprise us with your presence. We thank you for your faithfulness that surrounds us on all sides. Work in the places we tend to overlook. Move in behind us; guard us from the threats of the past. Keep us from turning back. Amen.
Forever for HIM!
Mitch