Learning Life's Rhythm

Learning Life’s Rhythm

“After forty years had passed, an angel appeared to Moses in the flames of a burning bush in the desert near Mount Sinai.” Acts 7:30

I revisited some high school memories with a classmate recently. Since I graduated in 1973, our memories were at least 46 years old. Charles would tell a story, then it would prompt a memory buried deep in my subconscious. Then I mentioned a fellow drama geek and he asked how she was doing. He and I haven’t even seen each other since we graduated but have reconnected over the last 10 years through social media. I now live in Texas and he lives in Israel. He studied law but has taken to technical writing as a career. My path took me into ministry with a few right and left turns along the way.

We both agreed that the four years of high school are probably the longest four years in a person’s life. So much happens in that short period. Friendships are made, interests are ignited, trajectories are planned. We can even develop a sort of nostalgia that wants to go back to those days. We explored the world, even if our field trips took us no further than a couple hundred miles from home. We explored relationships, literature, and theater, all while living in the comfort of our family homes. I think what most of us miss about that time is the ability to learn things about ourselves and the world without the stress of earning a living.

But then we eventually have to choose. Some of us feel a calling. I felt called to ministry. Another classmate, a genius in science, loved bowling. His parents promised to support him all the way through college, so he majored in Chemical Engineering, completing his degree at the top of his class. After graduation, he immediately took a full-time job as manager of a bowling alley. That was his love. I don’t know if he bowled when he should have been studying for his degree, but those years of college may have felt like a roadblock to doing what his heart desired.

I’m at a “pause” period in my life currently. Having taken early retirement due to medical reasons, I no longer am a pastor. Finances made it necessary for us to move in with family. We hope to have a home paid off within another year or so, and then can move back “home” and closer to our daughter.

How do you move through those times when your soul feels dormant? How do you handle the periods of life when the deepest desires, the things that brought you greatest joy, seem to no longer be available?

Moses, raised as a prince in Egypt with every privilege that offers, has been in hiding for 40 years. He had previously seen a fellow Hebrew being mistreated by an Egyptian. Coming to his help he took revenge on the Egyptian by killing him. He thought this would make his people understand that God was going to use him to set them free. He thought wrong.

In fact, the next day he saw two Hebrews fighting and he tried to make peace between them. The instigator of the fight pushed Moses aside and said, “Do you want to kill me, just as you killed that Egyptian yesterday?” (Yeah, God’s calling on his life was not working out exactly as he imagined.) So, Moses runs away to Midian where he marries and tends flocks for forty years.

The first forty years of his life were full of responsibility, privilege and meaningful accomplishments. You don’t get adopted as the king’s son without developing a keen sense of importance. And perhaps that was part of Moses’ problem. He felt entitled to make people behave. First, by killing the abusive Egyptian, then second by assuming the role of arbitrator in a scuffle between two fellow Hebrews.

So, the forty years of herding sheep, walking back and forth in the wilderness, day after day, must have felt quite empty to him at first. We have all had those empty times. It might have been a job that felt meaningless; minimum wage, low expectations, with no hope of a career. Or you may have been in a long-term relationship that no longer exists. Where there was once routine, now there are only ghosts. It may be a chronic illness that makes it no longer possible to do things that once filled your life with creativity and joy.

But there is something about emptiness that can open our soul if we let it. The routine of moving in a new way, new patterns, can help to whittle away parts of our life that we once thought were necessary. Moses is described as being “the most humble of men.” I wonder if his wilderness experience had a lot to do with that. Going from finely dressed prince to stinky shepherd can help create a bit of meekness I suppose.

But these “empty” times only work in us if we are attentive. Continuing in his regular routine, staying true to the life he now led in the desert, Moses is amazed at the appearance of a burning bush. The bush is on fire but not burned up, so he goes closer for a better look. That is when he hears God’s voice speaking directly to him.

Remember, this happens after 40 years of a daily pattern of watering, feeding and caring for sheep. He is probably as full of the rhythm of life as the sun rising and setting. He may have gone through frustration, anger at his dilemma, regret over his actions, shame, depression and so many other emotions we experience when life does not fit our plan. But, if we allow, though the circumstances do not change, our soul can begin to feel the rhythm of the life we now lead. We are living in the moment. And sometimes that is when we are surprised.

Moses trembles with fear as he hears God’s voice and looks away from the burning bush. The Lord then tells him to take off his sandals, “for the place where you are standing is holy ground.” God tells him that He has seen His people suffering and will send Moses to set them free.

Think about being barefoot in the presence of God. “Take off your shoes, Moses. This is holy ground. There is nothing here to hurt you.” That is my interpolation of the text. Moses has worn sandals in the desert for forty years, protecting his feet from razor rocks and searing sand. Now, in the presence of the awesome God, he needs no protection.

Every now and then, if we allow ourselves to live in the rhythm of life, we come across a burning bush or two. Perhaps it is a stunning walk in the country at just the right time. Perhaps it is a phone call out of the blue. Maybe it is a reconciliation that you have prayed about for a very long time. Maybe it’s as simple as a day with your grandchild, lunch with your spouse, or a line drawing of your family from your child. Yes, God can still come in the spectacular ways, as He did to Moses. But my experience in life is that He more often shows up in the moments when we are simply “being”.

In this case, God gave Moses a new job. I’m sure he put back on his sandals and did what he could to prepare himself for this new task. But sometimes, our burning bush moments are simply God’s loving reminder that He is with us and He knows exactly where we are, even if it is on the back side of the desert with smelly sheep.