“He fed you manna in the wilderness, [a substance] which your fathers did not know, so that He might humble you [by dependence on Him] and that He might test you, to do good [things] for you at the end. Otherwise, you may say in your heart, ‘My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth’ –Deut. 8:16-17.
Outwardly, their grumbling was directed at Moses and Aaron. In truth, however, the Israelites were grumbling against God. It was God’s abilities they were calling into question—not Moses’. God’s ability to provide for them. It had started at the edge of the Red Sea when the Egyptians, Israelite’s savage oppressors, had them hemmed in—in front, a wall of charging chariots and fierce soldiers in hot pursuit, and behind, an impassable sea. “Then they said to Moses, “Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What is this that you have done to us by bringing us out of Egypt?” –Exodus 14: 11. The Israelites’ persisted in their grumbling at Marah when the only water for miles was bitter. And the grumbling continued during their barren desert trek concerning what they’d be given to eat. Then again at Rephidim, also concerning water, “So they quarreled with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses replied, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the Lord to the test?” –Exodus 17:2.
Until the time of His death, the Israelites were relentless in their tetchy grumbling against Moses.
As modern-day Christians, how like the Israelites of old many of us can be, waspish in our complaining—often petulant and unbelieving, even while professing our faith in the God who knit us together in mother’s womb. We complain about our jobs or our boss, or our lack thereof. We complain about the size of our house or the lack of desired clothing not hanging in our wardrobes. We complain about the weather—it’s too hot, too cold, too rainy, too dry. We complain about where we live. “Why couldn’t I have been born in Hawaii or Fiji or Spain instead of ________?” All the while, precious brothers and sisters are being martyred for their faith in Afghanistan.
And like the Israelites before us, we too forget, at times, that at the heart of our grumbling, at its core, is our professed dissatisfaction with God—our complaining aimed at Him. Our unrelenting questioning of His motives, intentions, those things He allows to touch, influence, or straight-up change life as we’ve known it, is, too often, tinged, not with honest questioning, but with lack of faith. As if we, His creation, somehow know better than God, our Creator, which experiences, and paths are best for us. As if we, in our overinflated sense of self-importance, feel, somehow, that we know better than God what will ultimately bring about His plan of our being fashioned into the image and likeness of His Son—our purpose.
Am I the only One who finds themselves murmuring of late?
Whispering complaints under my breath against any host of circumstances, people, or events—praying, in one instant, that God has His way in my life. That He builds-up or tears down whatever needs reworking in me, that I might draw closer to Him, serve Him with a pure heart? While in the next minute forgetting, momentarily, that my God is Sovereign. And His Words command me to give thanks in every circumstance in which I find myself—regardless of how I feel. “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God” –1 Thessalonians 5:18.
There are no accidents in life, not even in those events our finite-limited minds define as such. In God’s economy, He has already made provision for our perceived losses before they could ever affect us. “We are assured and know that [God being a partner in their labor] all things work together and are [fitting into a plan] for good to and for those who love God and are called according to [His] design and purpose” –Romans 8:28.
To believe otherwise flies in the face of God’s Sovereignty.
Our God is not caught off guard by where we find ourselves right now, whatever our circumstance—be that employed, unemployed, clothed in the finest, or in second-hand clothes. Belly full or empty, body toasty warm or bone-chilling cold, wet, dry, vaccinated, or not, joy-full, or in mourning. “I know how to live humbly, and I know how to abound. I am accustomed to any and every situation— to being filled and being hungry, to having plenty and having need. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength” Philippians 4:12-13. El Roi, the God who sees me, the very same God who saw Hagar laying on a hot and dusty desert floor, knows where each of us is right now. And, He has already made a way out of this place in which we now find ourselves, though we can’t see it quite yet. For me personally, that’s day two of mourning the loss of my only brother—my beloved friend. The One I sat laughing with just two weeks ago as he recounted childhood tales of adventures we’d shared.
Though frail then, he bravely did all he could to shield my sister and me from the pain cancer was causing in his body. There is no way I could have put this teaching out today and not mentioned one of the most significant, most hard-hitting, darkest valleys I have experienced to date; witnessing my brother die.
To tell you that it was not difficult would be a bald-faced lie. It was agonizing, as anyone who has witnessed a loved one inch away daily can attest. But it’s not towards my brother’s struggle or pain or even his passing that I want to point you; instead, it’s towards God. Towards the One who provides for our every need, even the strength to let go when all we want to do is selfishly hold tight. I want to point you towards His waterfall of mercy, grace, peace, and provision—towards His faithfulness. Both towards my brother, in God never once leaving him to walk through the dark and unfamiliar valley of death alone, always ensuring that he had everything he needed right when he needed it, down to our being with him as he took his final breath, and towards us. Giving each of us His strength in place of our human weakness. This leads me to God’s faithfulness to me personally. To one of the greatest blessings of my life, indeed, one of the most bittersweet. The sure knowledge that the God of the 11th hour answered my prayers for my brother’s salvation and met him as he lay dying in his bed. And, in His great mercy, quenched my brother’s parched soul with Living Water, washing him white as snow.
“But whoever drinks the water that I give him will never be thirsty again. But the water that I give him will become in him a spring of water [satisfying his thirst for God] welling up [continually flowing, bubbling within him] to eternal life” –John 14:4. God met my brother in his dry and solitary bed of suffering as assuredly as He’d met Hagar as she lay crying out to Him on that hot, arid desert floor.
That’s our God. The One who comes and provides those things we didn’t even realize we needed.
I have peace in the knowledge and the greatest of blessings knowing that in my brother’s darkest hour, the Light of the world came and did for him what none of us as his family could. He drew close to my brother and lit the way before him, leading him to the place He had prepared for him. I know this because our God is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. Our God is faith full. Yesterday, today, and forever. A Pillar of Fire by night and a covering of Cloud by day—our Protector.
My family and I may have been blessed in having had the great privilege to care for our brother in his final hours, but clearly, it is Christ Jesus alone who deserves all the glory. In His Sovereignty, God orchestrated all things to work together for the good of all involved—according to His will, and for His glory.
Friend, if you have yet to ask Jesus into your life as Lord and Savior, do it today, please. No man is promised tomorrow. “But what does it say? “The word is near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart,” that is, the word of faith we are proclaiming: that if you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with your heart, you believe and are justified, and with your mouth you confess and are saved” –Romans 10:8-10.
In Loving Memory of Richard M. Murphy
You must be logged in to post a comment.