Have you ever hungered to hear, feel, experience God? Maybe reacted with jealousy or skepticism when others talk about such an intimate relationship with the Heavenly Father? What would it be like to know Him at such a depth that it seemed He was physically beside you? To address Him as “Papa”? It was when Jesus was most physically, emotionally and spiritually vulnerable that he addressed his Father God as “Daddy.” Must I wait for similar circumstances—though never as profound as Jesus’—to know my Father God in the same way?
These thoughts surfaced as I sat in my quiet chair this morning. Life has been “full to the brim” in recent weeks with the necessities of daily living. I have acknowledged God’s presence in a heady, i.e. intellectual, way during these times, but legitimate and worthy responsibilities have made it impossible to linger long with him.
So there I sat, waiting to “experience” God! But no fluffy clouds with angels descending appeared. I heard no hymnal melodies. I felt no tingling of his Spirit uniting with my spirit. Then I re-read the account of God calling Moses into his presence in Exodus 24. Most commentators believe Moses was the author of Exodus so as I meditated on these words, I imagined Moses sitting with a scribe some time after the events occurred. Did he stop his dictation, look at the one bearing a stylus at his side and remark, “You aren’t going to believe what happened then! God spoke to me at Mt. Sinai before, but this time was different. The people promised to obey God after I told them what he wanted, but this time…this time…”
What did Moses remember and record and what was the message for me?
First, God said, “Come up to me on the mountain.” It takes time and effort for me to “come up” to God. It means leaving the valley of the mundane and ordinary. It means leaving others—and the other loud calls on my life. A disciplined effort to leave the people and demands that I think so important
Second, God said, “…stay here…Moses, stay with me here on the mountain. Catch your breath after the climb. I have something important to say to you but you must get your mind in God gear. Stop thinking about the past, even the good past when I met your needs, when I parted a sea, poured water from a rock, sent fresh bread every day in the desert. I have new news for you.” I almost begin to squirm when I sit too long without doing something productive and God says, “Marilyn, just sit with me. Stay with me. What I want to say may take a while.”
Third, after six days of staying, “the Lord called to Moses…” After the climb and the staying, God revealed himself in unimaginable glory and spoke. I didn’t see the shekinah glory this morning as did Moses on Mt. Sinai or as the Israelites did as they wandered. I didn’t see cloud covered angels, hear heavenly melodies or feel tingling in my soul, but as I read several psalms, I was reminded that God is good, forgiving, trustworthy, gracious, sovereign, powerful, and as I meditated (i.e., literally chewed on these characteristics), I “saw” him again. And I was ready to hear him call.
The message wasn’t new or profound. It was much more like, “OK, let’s go on together through the day. I’m with you through all the activities and I just ask that you acknowledge me occasionally through the hours. Remember me. Think of me. I’m here.”
Climbing, staying, listening for the call. When I do my part, God does his. Some days there might be clouds, melodies and spiritual quivers. Other days—like this one—he will just be with me. And that’s enough.