There is a fear that comes when we leave Egypt.
Not to mention the leaving behind of our normal, our comfortable, our controllable. This fear is far above and beyond these momentary discomforts.
The fear I’m speaking of is a trembling, a shaking to our core as we are presented with a situation that is far too great for us to undertake on our own. The trembling is a coming to terms with our frailty. Our complete lack of ability to succeed.
And in this moment of shaking — a choice appears. A first step. Will you take it? Your promised land lives on the other side of that step, but you’ve never felt fear and inadequacy as you will in the moments leading up to that step and in all the steps that are to follow.
Have you worked out your faith with this kind of fear and trembling? Have you come face to face with your frailty yet? Have you fallen upon the stumbling stone, begging for mercy — completely dependent on Him to turn from heaven and hear your cry.
Fearfully and wonderfully made happens in these steps — as we leave Egypt for a promised land that we’ve yet to see. Not in our strength, but in our trembling.
Perfection of our faith happens when rejoicing joins with our trembling to produce a sound which delights He who hears, “Yes! Yes! Yes! No matter the cost, yes!”
Can you live as Moses — forsaking the wealth, comfort and power of Egypt — content to wander this Earth as a stranger, living for a city you cannot see?
How far up the hillside can your eyes lift? Do you yet see His help coming?
Inheritance requires a promise — in this case a Promised Land. But neither inheritance nor promise comes to fulfillment without first a working out in fear.
This is no safe place for the qualified, the gifted, the special, the chosen, the recognized, the wise, the clever, the strong. No, it’s quite dangerous for those who are blinded to their absolute and utter dependence on The Maker of Heaven and Earth in order to arrive on the other side.
Can you see it now? Can you feel it? The massively expansive chasm between your right now and the promise. Yet this seeing is not for despair, but rather for hope.
To start with the end in mind as you endure until the end.
“See have I not prepared a place for you? A place where God and man can once again dwell as one. By faith you enter in. By endurance you remain.”
A separation exists, but a promise remains. There’s always a way in Your will, because Your will is the way.
This glorious inheritance, what is it? No separation
This glorious reward, what is it? No separation.
I live today for a day when God and man will once again dwell as one. When I’ll finally see Your face.
I pray Lord, in those last days when you return, that you would find me faithfully wandering in Your rest , fearfully content to be a stranger and a pilgrim on this earth! Keep me until the end!