After today’s morning lessons, I’ve been humming the Kansas song:Carry on my wayward son There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more
‘Ever read a familiar passage and a certain phrase pops out at you? That’s how I felt this morning, reading about Moses:
“the burden is too heavy for me. … kill me at once… that I may not see my wretchedness.”
Unlike our Lord, who prayed similarly (“Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”), Moses was lamenting his own sinful heart. But God kept him in the game awhile, mercifully appointing elders (and teaching Israel a lesson—in spades).
Anyway, today’s knock-out phrase was, “that I may not see my wretchedness.” “Lord, these people drive me bonkers, and it brings out the worst in me. Just shoot me; put me out of my misery in seeing my lack of compassion; I disgust myself.” [LAV: Laura’s Amplified Version.]
FYI, I don’t want to be too rough on Moses; in the next chapter, God described him as faithful in all My house.
But I’m taking something from this. We servants sometimes we get cranky; we look in the mirror and hate what we see; we wonder how God can use such wretchedness.
Is it an accident that today’s New Testament passage answered that question?
So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ… Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.
God’s Word sure has a way of morphing our perspective; He reminds us that, in our flesh, we are absolutely incapable of carrying out the tasks He has called us to. We must call on Him; He will make a way.
It’s good to learn this while all we’re dealing with are a few rabble-rousers. Before this is over, things could get dicey. But God promises to be with us through it all:
in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger… dishonor… slander… treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.
Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done.