Considering we're only in January, I'm obviously still in the first few books in the Old Testament. And, well, some of the early Old Testament books (I'm looking at you Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy) aren't particularly, well...interesting. Case in point, I read Leviticus 13 and 14 the other day, which is 116 verses about leprosy. Yes, you read that correctly.
Anyway, before Leviticus comes Exodus, so last week (or thereabouts), I was reading through the book of Exodus.
If you're not familiar with the story of Exodus, it chronicles most of the life of Moses.
Moses is probably best known as the guy who went to Egypt, told off Pharaoh, and eventually led the the Israelites to freedom and subsequently led them through 40 years in the desert. But those who haven't read Scripture extensively often miss the first part of the story, or rather, the middle part of the story.
One of the ways the story of Moses came into the mainstream viewpoint was with the 1998 Dreamworks film, The Prince of Egypt, but what a lot of people don't realize is that the Dreamworks representation isn't exactly accurate. They do get several of the details correct (and Hans Zimmer wrote an epic soundtrack with one of my favorite instrumental pieces ever), but they messed up some big points that give me the most encouragement when I read the story of Moses.
The way many people view Moses is as a great man, a great orator, and a man of great courage. He grew up as a prince of Egypt (hence the film title), but later realized that he was a Hebrew and not a child of Pharaoh. In an altercation with an Egyptian slave driver, he killed said slave driver and fled Egypt, spending the next several years of his life living as a shepherd in Midian until he had an encounter with God that, quite literally, changed his life (encounters like that with God usually do).
Yes, this is the famous "burning bush" moment.
But the thing about the burning bush is that a lot of people don't realize what really happened. They know that God showed up in a bush that was on fire but didn't burn up. He spoke to Moses and charged him with the task of leading the Israelites out of Egypt. But the thing people miss a lot of the times is Moses said no.
Well, he didn't actually say no. First he asked questions. Several of them. And with each question, God gave an answer, and Moses came back with another question. After 28 verses, three questions, one excuse, and God having a comeback, for lack of a better term, for everything Moses said, he still didn't want to go. His exact words were, "Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else." (Exodus 4:13, NIV)
Did he miss the part where God had an answer for every question? Did he miss the part where God had countless signs and wonders to prove to the Israelites that he came from God? Did he miss the part where he was talking to God?
When I read this, I often get frustrated with Moses. I think, "Ugh. Come on, dude. He's God and He's got an answer to every question. Why are you still fighting this?"
And then it hits me...I'm just like Moses.
So God might not be talking to me from a burning bush. He might not be calling me to something as extreme as leading His people out of an ancient land where they had been enslaved for 400 years. But He is talking to me and He is calling me to things that make me ask far more questions than I should and make excuses and still, at times say, "Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else."
I've got some exciting and scary things that are possibly on the horizon. And there's a part of me that wants to stay comfortably shepherding my flock in Midian. There's a part of me that wants to ignore my burning bush and my call to Egypt. And it might not even be an actual burning bush or call to Egypt. I don't know yet. I'm asking some questions right now more out of curiosity than, "I don't want to do this." Although, if things continue down this path, there will certainly be some freaking out and probably a moment or two of "Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else."
But the thing is, if Moses had stuck to his guns and continued to make excuses to God, he never would have become the great man we still talk about today.
Answering the burning bush is scary. It's downright terrifying and wildly uncomfortable. But it leads to an abundant life that Jesus wanted us to have, that we were created to have. And I'd rather have an abundant, but scary, life than a mediocre, but safe, life.
What's your burning bush? What is making you hold onto the answer of "Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else"? What is that thing that is keeping you from going after your dream and your calling and what the Lord has for you? What is keeping you from abundant life?
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