borrowing words...

Exodus 33:15 Then Moses said to him, "If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. 16 How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?" 17 And the LORD said to Moses, "I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name."

Have you ever had a moment in your life where you realize you are not as strong, as smart, as charming, or as “(you fill in the blank)” as you thought you were? They tend to leave us - leave me - feeling vulnerable, helpless, and even small. Then we get so overwhelmed that instead of moving forward we freeze and are paralyzed in the midst of our insecurity. It doesn’t matter what “moving forward” means, because when you have this kind of experience it affects every step ahead of you – relationships, job, education, etc.

In these moments of smallness we are in touch with and touched by our need, our lack, and our frailty. I think in some ways this is why this passage seems to resonate within my soul. Moses speaks what I often feel. Do you hear the desperation I hear in his plea? "If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here.” The way I say it sounds more like, “God, I ain’t moving, I got nothing! Where You at!?!”

However, as I have let this dialogue between God and Moses stew in my mind I have come to a harsh realization. Even though I may say something similar, the fact is there is a glaring difference between Moses’ prayer and mine. All too often, the reason that I come to the place of this prayer is that I am concerned more with how I feel about myself or how others perceive me than anything else. I want God on my side because I don’t want to feel like an idiot or because I don’t want to fail miserably. As I think through the reality of how petty and self-consumed I can be I search for ways to justify myself.

So, I shift the mantle of responsibility – actually culpability would be the proper word. I will do whatever it takes in my mind to say that someone or something else should shoulder the blame for my seasons of spiritual malaise. “I don’t have the energy to read the Bible because I have two kids under two and I need sleep.” “I haven’t been the most consistent in my prayer life, because I am juggling two jobs at 60 hours a week.” It seems like the more I think about it the more I just want find my “happy place” (there’s my Happy Gilmore reference for the day).

Since shifting the blame doesn’t really work I speculate and surmise that Moses was most likely just as much of an insecure schmuck as I am. I understand there were times his faith seemed trivial, but the fact is this particular passage doesn’t lend itself to that. This moment wasn’t one I could manipulate. You see even though Moses and I pray similar prayers, the difference is clear. Unlike him I forget the next step. Verse 18 is telling of the condition of his heart. “Then Moses said, ‘Now show me your glory.’” The man’s yearning comes into focus in this moment. He wants to see God as He is; not as he conceives, wants, or wishes God would be. I have prayed that prayer in verse 18 before, but I confess I don’t pray it enough or like I once did. As I dwell in this passage, again I realize I do not pray this expectantly anymore. My hearts deepest longing strays so far from, “show me Your glory!” The concern of Moses is not for his own good but for glory of Yahweh to be known.

All this leads me to the reality of this moment. The smallness of my soul stands very large before my eyes. However, I sense in me a heart that is tired of being captive to this callousness to which I have grown accustomed. Now I understand that I need to echo this prayer once more. So, I borrow the words of a man God spoke to as a friend and I pray, “Lord, show me your glory!”