Unfinished Work

Yesterday my sister and I were shopping at Barnes & Noble when we noticed a commotion stirring outside. It seems that someone had carelessly tossed a cigarette butt out of a car window, igniting a bush in the parking lot on fire. When I realized it was dangerously close to my car, I ran to move it. When I came back in, my sister said, "Wow, a real burning bush!"

The incident reminded me of some thoughts I had while reading through Exodus a while back. I shook my head in disbelief as I read all the excuses he made when God spoke to him from the burning bush, then I realized Moses and I have much in common.

First, Moses reveals his own identity crisis. “Who am I, that I should go before Pharaoh and lead the sons of Israel out of Egypt?” Was he not taught, at the knee of his mother, of the patriarchs, of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob? Surely, he must have known he was one of God’s chosen people.

God reply was simple, “I will be with you." He didn't even bother to assure Moses of his personal worthiness. In essence, I think God was saying, "Moses, it's all about me."

Next Moses says, “But God, what if the people don’t believe me?” Hmm, perhaps he had embarrassing recollections of the Hebrews’ reaction to him slaying the Egyptian and hiding his body in the sand.

Rather than arm Moses with a well-rehearsed speech arguing His existence, God proceeds to show Moses a glimpse of His mighty power such as the children of Israel had never before seen. Moses’ staff becomes a snake and his hand becomes leprous. Blessed are those who, not seeing, believe. But God knew the Hebrew children would need to see this powerful God in action.

Once more, Moses confesses his feelings of inadequacy. “God, I never have been eloquent. Speaking always makes me nervous, Lord. I’m still nervous just standing here talking to you now. I’m not anymore equipped to speak to those people than I was before I bumped into that burning bush a few minutes ago.”

Once more, God patiently reminds Moses that the One who gave him a voice will teach him what to say.

In each of Moses' excuses, I find my own voice, whining to God. And in each of God's responses, I find renewed encouragement to do that which He has set before me. Sometimes I get so impatient with myself, especially where writing is concerned. But seeing how Moses spent eighty years of his life preparing for the task God had for him, I guess I ought to be patient too. After all, I know it's not about me anyways!