Thursday, February 28, 2008

Paul Washer delivered a stirring reminder to me this morning, in the midst of business, to get alone with God. I might insist I’m spending time with Him while whirling away at mindless tasks, or while begging and pleading with Him for someone else, or while crying out to Him for deliverance, but nothing takes the place of simply getting alone with Him and listening. Actually shutting up and listening. It has been far too long since I met with Him in quietness and solitude to hear Him speak. Today I found myself exempt from excuses, so I vanished into the woods. Halfway down the trail I was overwhelmed by the beauty of Yahweh, His power and His mercy, driving me to my knees with weeping. Not sorrow. Just weeping. Rising, I continued a short way before I was again brought to my knees, overwhelmed to realize that I’d been overwhelmed by so much less than Moses had seen. How do I even begin to describe the God I am privileged to serve? In Him everything holds together, in Him is the light of life, in Him is holiness, majesty, authority, perfection--everything I am not. I finally reached the clearing and stood, waiting, listening, before “take off your shoes for the place you are standing is holy ground” flowed through my mind. I laughed. “The place where I am standing is muddy ground,” I corrected, but the thought multiplied and repeated itself until I finally complied. The significance of bare feet is beyond me and I’ll readily admit that I have an overactive imagination. I could have remembered and fed the words to myself, for an emotional kick. I’m just a little girl, but as long as my imagination leads me to the feet of Yahweh, I’ll gladly give it leave to run. As soon as I’d laid aside my shoes, the life of Moses began to flood me, coming over my memory in wave upon wave, nearly visible, as if I were blessed to be a shadow to this friend of God. From the moment he stood before the burning bush, to the day God buried him on the top of a mountain in view of the promised land, this man was flesh and blood, yet spoke with God face to face, as a man speaks with his friend. He feared facing Pharaoh, he became angry and disobeyed God, yet God spoke through him and to him. On Sinai and in the tabernacle, Moses met with Yahweh, and when he returned from the presence of Yahweh, his face shown with the radiance of the glory of God. His mission from on high was to lead a stubborn and rebellious people through the wilderness, and at last he died, without ever having set foot into the land himself. I cried for his failure, his failure to finish the task God had given him, through the penalty for one mistake. In the solitude of a clearing, away from the noise of rebellious people or the heat of a wilderness the truth slid through my mind to lodge in my heart. No. Moses, who transcribed God’s law, was not under law but under grace. In grace, God took him to the true Promised Land, God buried his body, God called him friend, God talked with him face to face, God received his intercession for the people, God caused all His goodness to pass in front of him while He protected him with His own hand. Moses learned the good part. He knew God. Intimately. That’s what God is seeking—worshippers in spirit and truth. Those who want to know Him, who want to see His glory, who understand that being with God is the good part. Those who want to know Him fully, even as we have been fully known.

I realized the sun was high in the sky—almost noon—and Mom had a doctor’s appointment just after noon and needed me home. Wishing for Aaron and Hur to hold up my arms and make the sun stand still was an empty motion, so I clambered to my feet, put my shoes back on and headed back up the trail. The afterglow is beginning to fade, reminding me that I am still dust. But Yahweh…Yahweh is indescribable.

Lord, Thy servant, Moses shown
Once, with a glory not his own.
This sinner veiled within Thy glory
Typifies redemption’s story.

May my life so glow with Thee
That anyone who looks may see
The radiation of Thy grace
And long to see Thy perfect face.


Anonymous said...

You capture the moment so well... reminding me to be still before Him! I enjoy your style of writing!

Valérie said...

Bonjour Scribbin et je te remercie beaucoup d'être venue sur mon site pour me mettre un gentil com...Je te souhaite une bonne journée et encore merci!!!!!!!

Jason Plett said...

Fascinating, I find when people typically write about God, and such, it is usually for the purpose of shunning something. You have a genuine spirit, and it shows in your writing. Keep it up, very inspiring. You capture the moment so well I feel like I am there, in fact I had to go wash my feet I thought they might be muddy!

Anonymous said...

"I might insist I’m spending time with Him while whirling away at mindless tasks, or while begging and pleading with Him for someone else, or while crying out to Him for deliverance, but nothing takes the place of simply getting alone with Him and listening."
Beautifully said! I enjoyed this post so much!

Jason Plett said...

Hey Scribbler! I don't believe you cant wrangle a classica for one monment. My son can work it I know you can too. Yeah I play a Martin, it was a big decision, but we sure enjoy it. Sounds like your clan could get a bit of a ensemble going there, probably be a great time. We spend many evening pretending we know what the heck we're doing and noodleing our way through a couple of tunes. As far as God, well long story short I lost my faith about 20 years ago. I still struggle with it almost daily. I have explored most of the major religions. I always get drawn to people writing that expresses their faith, probably why I find yours so refreshing. Anyway, thats a long comment!