What Moses Knew

This post first appeared on the Living Loved Community on Facebook where I write a monthly column for Stewarding Saturdays.

The words of a worship song fill my ears and I close my eyes. I am suspended. Between the now and the not yet. On my knees before the throne. Surrounded by a host of angels.

I open my eyes and turn in my Bible to the story of the Exodus. I imagine Moses in the tent. Or on the mountaintop. Meeting with God “face to face, as one speaks to a friend” (Exodus 33:11). Try as I might, I cannot put myself there.

And yet, in my own way, I know what it is to feel His breath upon my cheek. To watch this world fade away. To slip off the shoes of my day to day. And in these glimpses, a dawning. A realization of what Moses knew to be true.

Once you have stood upon holy ground, no other ground will do.

“If Your Presence does not go with us,” Moses cried, “do not send us up from here” (33:15). These ancient words are spoken in a voice with a familiar tonality. Because the same Spirit that set the bush ablaze, burns here, inside of me.

As it has burned for centuries.

“Do not cast me away from Your Presence,” David begged in Psalm 51:11. And to Jesus’ question of fidelity, Peter’s pained reply: “Lord to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).

These stewards of the faith reach through time to hold my gaze. Listen, they say. Once you have felt the heat of the Spirit’s blaze, you cannot return to the chill of the world’s embrace. God’s Presence is the treasure we sell everything to gain.

It did not matter, in that wilderness place, what threats or promises the Almighty made. Moses did not fear destruction under God’s justified gaze. He cared nothing for angelic might, divine favors or legacies. And like a gift of grace, Moses’ heartfelt prayer speaks for me.

I cannot steward anyone on my own. Our every step would take a wayward route. It does not matter what trials may come. You, Lord, are the only thing that is true. Every single promise in that land would be empty without You. (Exodus 33:12-16, paraphrase)

The Tree

I met this tree the other day
She came upon me
as I went my way
We nodded in gentle assent
The way that strangers do
But then I turned
And looked again

“How?”
I asked in wonder
Or maybe it was
an anguished cry
From deep within
Or maybe those are
one and the same
Because what I wonder
Most often lately is
why
And
how long
And
do You even hear me at all?

And there in that place
Where the wooded path
Met the open meadow
He stopped my heart
And told me to see.

this lifeless tree
Cracked and twisted
Pain and anguish
Etched into her soul
bursting with new life

She’s given herself in death
I said to myself.
Allowed a new thing
To sprout from the ruins
Of all she used to be.

Wait, He said
His hand pressing on my chest
Look again.
She is not dead.
That new life is hers
That strength is hers
That hope is hers

I looked at her
From every angle
It made no sense
It was not possible
And yet
there she was
And oh my heart cried
She is so
Impossibly

beautiful