"Lord, throughout all generations, You have been our home." (Psalm 90:1 NLT)
Sometimes it’s really helpful to know who authored a text. Of course, we understand that all scripture is breathed by God (2 Timothy 3:16) but the authorial experience of the penholder deepens our understanding much the way spice enhances the flavor of food.
It says it in the musician’s notes: Moses wrote this psalm.
I rolodex through my mental notes on Moses. He was a man without a country, to be sure. Born a Jew. Raised an Egyptian. Cast out of both societies and Egypt altogether after an ugly incident involving a slave driver. He meandered through Midian until he discovered Zipporah watering her flock. Her father pitied him and took him under his metaphorical wing. Moses spent his middle years with the sheep, at least until he noticed the burning bush. (Heath Adamson proposes the bush was always burning, Moses just wouldn’t look up long enough to observe it.)
The fiery shrub set Moses on another path: a rescue mission for God’s people. He returned to Egypt, only to be rejected again. He’d have to prove himself and his God before the Israelites would follow him. Eventually, after the great Exodus and a year of wilderness wandering, he was ready to put roots down but his people had other ideas.
In their fear, the Israelites rejected the gift of God because the land appeared to be ruled by giants. They didn’t hear or understand that God’s promise to send hornets ahead to clear Promised Land upon their arrival. They refused their inheritance and, in turn, God drove them back into the wilderness for another forty years.
Moses was a man without a home. And yet, he penned this sacred text.
"Lord, throughout all generations, You have been our home." (Psalm 90:1 NLT)
Moses moved countless times. His peripatetic nature surely bewildered his friends and family, but we know via scripture that Moses remained hot on the heels of God from the moment he received His calling. Could the same be said of us?
"Even broken feet could not keep me from seeking the One who faced death out of love for me. You said follow Me, so I'm following." (Upper Room)
Moses did not live his life like other people. He served at the pleasure of the King. We need to keep this in mind when we are called to pull up stakes and follow the cloud again.
Moses may have died on the last mountain overlooking the Promised Land, penniless and people-less, wore through by the journey and homeless to boot – but he died in right standing with a holy God. He died committed to keeping his human feet on the path of God’s unlikely, uncomfortable and inconvenient will. He refused to give into his concerns of dissatisfaction or personal safety. He stayed the course until highest elevation and last breath: utterly convinced of the Home that happens when we close our eyes on the world and open them to the next.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith." (Hebrews 12:1-2 NIV)
Our race is unique: a specific course set with our skills, shortcomings and obedience in mind. Considering the course of others will only trip us up. We aren’t running their route, we are finishing the race marked out for us. It’s twists and turns and pitstops are assigned specifically for our soul’s exertion.
Our Savior ran, too. He met His own strange mile-markers along the way: born in a barn, exiled to Egypt, raised in an obscure and disdained village. He may have spent a couple decades in Nazareth, but His ministry years were walked out from town to town. 3125 miles are recorded in scripture: the Messiah didn’t let the grass grow under His feet.
As believers, our most critical task is staying close to God. Moses followed a cloud and a pillar. Jesus followed the Father and the Spirit. As we listen to His leading, even at the denial of personal preference, we learn to let God’s will eclipse our own.
"Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty." (Psalm 91:1 NLT)
Lord, help us learn to live content under the cloud. Let our preferences and personal opinions fall by the wayside. Be our priority as we are consumed with nearness. May we be willing to follow You anywhere and decide our home in You alone. Amen.