“… And You did not certainly deliver your people.” (Exodus 5:23b, a literal translation)
Moses said that to God after his first meeting with Pharaoh. In all honesty, I can understand why he would feel that way, based on the flow of the story up to that point. I can understand that feeling since I probably express some version of that to God from time to time, to time.
(Moses is a fascinating and strange character. As I read through Exodus, I’ve been thinking about bookend milestones in his personal story—he strikes and kills a fellow countryman before his journey begins in Exodus 2, and he strikes the rock for water as his journey nears the end in Numbers 20. For now it’s just something that’s in the back of my mind as I’ve been reading…)
Lately, I’ve been meditating on my perspective and view of life’s horizon. How far we can see beyond the horizon would shape the decisions and actions of this moment. For example, very simplistically, the decisions made running a business with a focus on where you want to be in one month would look very different from a 1-year goal or even a 100-year timeline.
What would be different in times of frustration with our children, focusing on that moment in time versus seeing that moment in their entire lifetime? How would we treat others? How would we build our churches? Where would we invest our resources? What would capture our attention?
I’m wondering now if I’m meditating on the wrong question. How far beyond the horizon am I looking? I’m wondering if the real question is: can I even see beyond the horizon? Walking with God and fixing our eyes to see beyond our present seems good and right, until I think that it’s actually: walking with God and fixing our eyes on Him.
It’s not a matter of perspective, but rather, a matter of Person. Instead of how far can I see beyond to align my steps, it’s how closely am I looking at Jesus as I abide in Him.
After Moses’ first meeting with Pharaoh—that God called for and arranged:
And the overseers of the sons of Israel saw themselves in evil, saying, “You shall not diminish from your bricks, the matter of a day in its day.” And they met Moses and Aaron standing to meet them when they came from Pharaoh. And they said to them, “May Jehovah look on you and judge; who have made our odor to stink in Pharaoh’s eyes and in the eyes of his servants, to give a sword in their hands to kill us.” And Moses returned to Jehovah and said, “Lord, why have You done evil to this people? Why then have You sent me? And since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has done evil to this people. And You did not certainly deliver Your people.” (5:19-23)
I remember thinking, when I highlighted this part, how it was a matter of perspective and how far his view went past the horizon. To a reader who knows how this story ends, Moses’ dig at God seems foolish and ridiculous. His view and perspective is so limited and short-sighted. If only he could see the big picture, the long game, the eternity beyond the horizon, then he would realize how silly it is to think that God did not deliver.
If only I could see the big picture, the long game, the eternity beyond the horizon, then I would realize how silly it is to think that God will not deliver. And, even still, how foolishly am I thinking? It’s not about how I’m looking at it, but Who am I looking at?
It’s like walking with God, hand-in-hand and side-by-side, towards where the Father is leading as we look further into the beyond as more of Him shapes and transforms more of us—but, maybe it’s not? Maybe, it’s more like we’re walking backwards in front, looking at the face of the Father, trusting in how He is leading us and where He is taking us, because we know that Jesus has already gone ahead of us, and the Holy Spirit has our back.
What would that look like in life, to make our decisions by watching the face of the Father—metaphorically and literally, spiritually and physically? Could I walk, looking at and listening to God, trusting that the Holy Spirit is leading the way?
