Be Careful What You Ask For (Numbers 11:18-23, 31-32)

Now tell the people, ‘Purify yourselves for tomorrow; you will have meat to eat. The Lord has heard you whining and saying that you wished you had some meat and that you were better off in Egypt. Now the Lord will give you meat, and you will have to eat it. You will have to eat it not just for one or two days, or five, or ten, or even twenty days, but for a whole month, until it comes out of your ears, until you are sick of it. This will happen because you have rejected the Lord who is here among you and have complained to him that you should never have left Egypt.’”

Moses said to the Lord, “Here I am leading 600,000 people, and you say that you will give them enough meat for a month? Could enough cattle and sheep be killed to satisfy them? Are all the fish in the sea enough for them?”

“Is there a limit to my power?” the Lord answered. “You will soon see whether what I have said will happen or not!”…

Suddenly the Lord sent a wind that brought quails from the sea, flying three feet above the ground. They settled on the camp and all around it for miles and miles in every direction. So all that day, all night, and all the next day, the people worked catching quails; no one gathered less than fifty bushels. They spread them out to dry all around the camp. (Good News Translation)

I can just imaging the dialogue around the campfire at night with some of the ancient Israelites. Out in the middle of nowhere, delivered from Egyptian slavery, but not yet to the Promised Land, they were feeling the awkward space of being in-between those two places:

“Manna, again!? Geez, are we ever going to get anything else to eat?”

“Doesn’t look like it, does it? Every single day we get up, go out on the desert, collect the manna, eat it all day, go to bed, then get up and do it all over again.”

Do you remember back in Egypt, we had garlic and leeks and stew and meat? Oh, glorious meat! Sometimes I think we were better of there. Dang it, I want meat! Don’t you want meat, too!?”

“Yeah, I’m sick of this manna. Hey, there’s Moses. Get us some meat, Moses! Did you bring us out here to bore us to death with manna!? What are you doing about it? Where are you leading us? Where’s the meat?”…

And on and on it goes, the murmuring about food and conditions in the desert.

When life is topsy-turvy and upside-down, it is so amazingly easy to grumble and complain. The ancient Israelites sometimes didn’t have water to drink. They had a limited diet of manna. They were anxious, nervous, and scared, wondering if things would get better, or not. The people were in a life-and-death sort of situation.

How would you respond?

Complaining, unlike our emotions such as fear, is a volitional response. We choose to grumble. The problem with gripes and complaints is that it sets a person down a dark path. The criticisms and grievances begin easily and are seemingly harmless, that is, at first. They are, however, anything but innocuous or innocent.

The murmuring under the breath did not stop with getting meat to eat. If we look ahead in the story of God’s people in the exodus event, the moaning and complaining quickly returned. The people became so disillusioned with their circumstances that they began longing for the “good old days” back in Egypt when they had plenty to eat and drink, forgetting about their cruel bondage in slavery. (Exodus 16:1-3)

The psychological progression continued with beginning to blame their situation on God, as if the Lord were some mean malevolent deity. From that point, it was inevitable that the people would disobey God and eventually succumb to the idolatry of the golden calf. (Exodus 32:1-8)

Despite the grand celebration of leaving Egypt and experiencing a miraculous deliverance through the Red Sea, the people quickly forgot because of their present mundane circumstance of eating manna every day.

If they were spiritually healthy, they would realize that the mighty God who saved them with incredible acts of power would care for them in a desert. Yet, for many, there was no faith to be found in a new situation they had not faced before.

Failure of faith begins neither with ignorance nor an egregious sin. It begins with grumbling and complaining. And if allowed to run amok, complaints will bear the fruit of discouragement, disobedience, and finally, a disavowal of God.

Sometimes, if you want something bad enough, God will give it to you. And you won’t like it. That’s because the heart has already been attuned to grumbling and murmuring. The heart’s hunger will never be satiated; it’s sick. And it can become so sick that a heart transplant is needed – an altogether new heart. Yet God will even help with that:

And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart. And I will put my Spirit in you so that you will follow my decrees and be careful to obey my regulations. (Ezekiel 36:26-27, NLT)

Acceptance means practicing a conscious effort to acknowledge and honor difficult situations and emotions. Fully accepting things as they are, instead of ignoring, avoiding, or wishing the situation were different, can be a critical step in moving through a difficult experience to experiencing more meaning.

Learning to be satisfied and content begins with accepting our current reality and present circumstances. The state of our minds and our hearts will determine whether we will ever be happy or not. When we discover how to synchronize ourselves with the groove of God’s Spirit, then we shall enjoy an abundant life of contentment – no matter the situation.

May we be able to say along with the psalmist:

I will bless the Lord who guides me;
    even at night my heart instructs me.
I know the Lord is always with me.
    I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.

No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice.
    My body rests in safety.
For you will not leave my soul among the dead
    or allow your holy one to rot in the grave.
You will show me the way of life,
    granting me the joy of your presence
    and the pleasures of living with you forever. (Psalm 16:7-11, NLT)

Distressed (Psalm 77)

I cry aloud to God;
    I cry aloud, and he hears me.
In times of trouble I pray to the Lord;
    all night long I lift my hands in prayer,
    but I cannot find comfort.
When I think of God, I sigh;
    when I meditate, I feel discouraged.

He keeps me awake all night;
    I am so worried that I cannot speak.
I think of days gone by
    and remember years of long ago.
I spend the night in deep thought;
    I meditate, and this is what I ask myself:
“Will the Lord always reject us?
    Will he never again be pleased with us?
Has he stopped loving us?
    Does his promise no longer stand?
Has God forgotten to be merciful?
    Has anger taken the place of his compassion?”
Then I said, “What hurts me most is this—
    that God is no longer powerful.”

I will remember your great deeds, Lord;
    I will recall the wonders you did in the past.
I will think about all that you have done;
    I will meditate on all your mighty acts.

Everything you do, O God, is holy.
    No god is as great as you.
You are the God who works miracles;
    you showed your might among the nations.
By your power you saved your people,
    the descendants of Jacob and of Joseph.

When the waters saw you, O God, they were afraid,
    and the depths of the sea trembled.
The clouds poured down rain;
    thunder crashed from the sky,
    and lightning flashed in all directions.
The crash of your thunder rolled out,
    and flashes of lightning lit up the world;
    the earth trembled and shook.
You walked through the waves;
    you crossed the deep sea,
    but your footprints could not be seen.
You led your people like a shepherd,
    with Moses and Aaron in charge. (Good News Translation)

Psalm 77, by Jeremy Grant

I Worry

You and I know what it feels like to be in trouble. We understand the sense, at times, of having our prayers bounce off the ceiling, as if our cries are not heard by heaven. Loneliness and discouragement are palpable. Sleep is elusive. Worries and racing thoughts go round and round in our heads, like some sort of demented NASCAR event.

Swirling around us like a black cloud are all the questions asked without any answers:

  • Has God walked off the job? Is the Lord ever coming back? Is God even there? Did the Lord retire from being God?
  • Is God angry at me? What have I done to piss him off? Is the Lord fed up with us?
  • Is the Lord really a God of love? Did grace run out of steam? Does God hate me?

Then, when the questions go unanswered without any replies, we begin to remember the good old days… when God was a mover and shaker in this messed up world… when the Lord delivered the people from Egyptian bondage… when God pulled people out of the worst kind of troubles….

We continue to reminisce, even recalling that the very elements of the earth were moved by the command of an almighty God: setting aside the Red Sea so that the people were delivered from impending doom… congealing the Jordan River so that the people could cross over into the Promised Land… causing clouds to form and belch out buckets of rain to end droughts in the land… and so much more….

Like a concerned and compassionate shepherd, protecting the sheep and caring for them, God had led the people out of slavery and into freedom, speaking to Moses, delivering people, moving mountains…. Yet, here I lay, hearing and experiencing bupkis from God. *Sigh*

So, what’s a spiritually sensitive person to do?

I and Thou

In 1937, the Jewish philosopher, Martin Buber wrote an insightful book entitled “I and Thou.” Buber postulated how people exist in the world and how they actualize that existence. We engage the world through both monologue and dialogue. For Buber, “all real living is meeting.” In other words, to exist, to live, is to encounter another and relate to a “Thou.” We only have meaning in relationships. We only have our being in God.

The psalmist acknowledges there is a “Thou” besides his distressed “I” – that this Thou will hear, make a difference, and open a way of deliverance… even if it might not happen right away. There are four actions the psalmist decides to do in his distress, actions which put him in a vital dialogue with the divine “Thou”… even if it seems like nothing is happening.

I Pray

Prayer, at its heart, is a dialogue with God. From the place of our spiritual poverty and bankruptcy, we beg; and God gives us the kingdom. To be a spiritual beggar, pleading for our needs to be met, knowing we have no way to repay, is a posture which God delights in.

You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule. (Matthew 5:3, MSG)

I Search

In the I and Thou relationship, the search works both ways.

You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways….

Search me, God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139:1-2, 23-24, NIV)

I Remember

The psalmist intentionally sought to recall the mighty works of God, especially in delivering the people from slavery and bringing them to the Promised Land. In our forgetfulness, we get lost in our troubles and our perspective becomes skewed. We cannot see beyond the end of our nose. Remembering, however, grants us a fuller picture of what is happening in light of the past. It brings us out of the lonely “I” and into the relationship of “I and Thou.”

Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you endured in a great conflict full of suffering. 

Sometimes you were publicly exposed to insult and persecution; at other times you stood side by side with those who were so treated. You suffered along with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions. 

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. (Hebrews 10:32-36, NIV)

I Meditate

Pondering and thinking upon God’s deeds enables praise to arise from us. It fosters the I and Thou relationship, bolstering and buoying our faith through life-events which produce our distress.

I lie awake thinking of you,
    meditating on you through the night.
Because you are my helper,
    I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings. (Psalm 63:6-7, NLT)

Thou Art Worthy

The psalm ends with no resolution to the personal distress of the psalmist. Whether there is a happy ending, or not, isn’t the point. It’s about the process.

The journey of moving through our troubles causes us to learn as much (or more) from God’s absence than of God’s presence. We learn how to pray, search, remember, and meditate because of and despite our troubles. We learn to relate to God and eventually proclaim that Thou art worthy.

Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created. (Revelation 4:11, KJV)

Amen.

Reframe the Situation (Exodus 4:1-9)

But Moses protested again, “What if they won’t believe me or listen to me? What if they say, ‘The Lord never appeared to you’?”

Then the Lord asked him, “What is that in your hand?”

“A shepherd’s staff,” Moses replied.

“Throw it down on the ground,” the Lord told him. So Moses threw down the staff, and it turned into a snake! Moses jumped back.

Then the Lord told him, “Reach out and grab its tail.” So Moses reached out and grabbed it, and it turned back into a shepherd’s staff in his hand.

“Perform this sign,” the Lord told him. “Then they will believe that the Lord, the God of their ancestors—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob—really has appeared to you.”

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Now put your hand inside your cloak.” So Moses put his hand inside his cloak, and when he took it out again, his hand was white as snow with a severe skin disease. “Now put your hand back into your cloak,” the Lord said. So Moses put his hand back in, and when he took it out again, it was as healthy as the rest of his body.

The Lord said to Moses, “If they do not believe you and are not convinced by the first miraculous sign, they will be convinced by the second sign. And if they don’t believe you or listen to you even after these two signs, then take some water from the Nile River and pour it out on the dry ground. When you do, the water from the Nile will turn to blood on the ground.” (New Living Translation)

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Victor Frankl

Moses needed a big-time reframing of his situation.

Reframing is a way to help see a situation from a different perspective.

For example, Moses seemed to say to himself, “I’m going to do horrible at communicating to the Israelites that God appeared to me. They’re never going to believe me that I saw God in a burning bush!”

Instead, Moses could reframe the circumstance by saying, “I saw God. I know God is going to deliver the Israelites from their slavery to the Egyptians. I’ve been thinking about this in the backside of the desert for the past 40 years. And God’s got my back to use me here. So, I’ve got this. I can do this!”

But, of course, Moses didn’t say that. He needed a reframing from God that came from some powerful illustrations of the Lord’s ability to change things.

The big reframe for Moses was this: If God can change a staff into a snake, and then turn it back again; and if God can change my hand to be white with leprosy, then turn it back to a healthy hand; then God can certainly change the minds and hearts of the Israelites to accept that I am the Lord’s chosen deliverer from Egyptian bondage.

Whenever we put the onus on our abilities, or lack thereof, in order to alter a situation, then we are likely to have little confidence and a negative outlook.

Yet, when we can do some reframing, and rightly put the emphasis on God’s power and God’s promise, then our faith is placed rightly and we can step forward with courage, knowing it’s ultimately about God, not me.

Moses contends with God about facing the Israelites and convincing them he’s the deliverer. He sees himself as a tongue-tied hick who is only good for moving sheep around. And yet, all these millennia later, we now remember Moses as the one who boldly and repeatedly spoke to Pharaoh and moved an entire nation from Egypt to the Promised Land.

The Lord helped reframe the situation for Moses. Instead of a backward shepherd who was no good at talking, Moses was a magnificently resilient person who was able to reinvent his life multiple times and thrive in each new situation.

Moses survived a murderous decree as a baby, grew up in the Egyptian court, moved to Midian in a completely different existence, and then became perhaps the greatest leader in Jewish history. All of that is the very definition of resilience.

I am willing to surmise that you also need some reframing of your circumstance or even your life. After all, you’ve made it this far in life, and you’re still here. That means you have some significant things going for you. No matter the situation you find yourself in, it’s likely that a good reframe may be needed.

In his book, From Death Camp to Existentialism, Victor Frankl writes of being in a Nazi concentration camp for three years. Everything was taken from him. Frankl’s wife, family, and most of his fellow inmates died. Yet, he survived. And, after the war, he became one of the great psychological healers of our time.

Victor Frankl kept reframing his horrible situation and using his mind for worthy purposes. He survived by using his suffering to help others find hope, to know that no other person or nation can steal his mind from him. Frankl could continually choose his attitude and mindset, irrespective of the circumstances.

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Victor Frankl

There are always opportunities to experience life more fully, to become a more integrated and whole person, and to transform what seems daunting into a chance to improve one’s life or the lives of others.

Reframing is neither denial nor positive thinking. Rather, it is an invitation in learning to trust God, in the presence, promise, and power of the divine.

We all discover, like Moses, that life can turn out very differently than we might expect. And along the way, we also find that we reinvent ourselves more than once; and that we are transformed by the seasons of life which we all must pass through.

When we learn to trust the Lord, evermore with each and every adverse situation, we are less likely to be controlled or overcome by moods of pessimism, hopelessness, or resentment. Our prevailing attitude becomes optimistic, as our faith is exercised and proven in the difficult trials of life.

Through his several encounters with God – and then with the people and with Pharaoh – Moses found resources he didn’t know he had. By experiencing a reframe of his life, Moses became the sort of person and leader that we are still talking about 3,500 years later.

So, don’t close your heart and mind to the adversity in front of you. That only leads to bitterness and unhappiness. Instead, open yourself to God and trust the spiritual reality and resources you possess.

Hold It Loosely (Exodus 1:1-7)

When Jacob went to Egypt, his son Joseph was already there. So Jacob took his eleven other sons and their families. They were: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulun, Benjamin, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, and Asher. Altogether, Jacob had 70 children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who went with him.

After Joseph, his brothers, and everyone else in that generation had died, the people of Israel became so numerous that the whole region of Goshen was full of them. (Contemporary English Version)

Exodus is the second book of the Bible, and the second of five books known as the “Pentateuch” by Christians, and the “Torah” by Jews. The first book, Genesis, ended with the story of Joseph – who was one of the 12 patriarchs. God established a covenant with Abraham, the father of Judaism, and promised him land and descendants – even though he did not have a son. God miraculously gave Abraham and Sarah a biological son, Isaac, who grew up to be the father of Jacob, or Israel, Joseph’s father.

The stories in Genesis surrounding Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph were filled with wonderings of whether God’s promise would ever survive, or not. Yet, it did. Joseph, in the ultimate reversal of fortunes, went from the lowest person in Egypt to it’s highest official. Through Joseph, the brothers and their families ended up relocating to Egypt because of a severe famine.

Present-day land of Goshen, Egypt

As time moved on, Joseph, his brothers, and all that generation died. In contrast to the extended family of Jacob, 70 of them, who initially went to Egypt, the opening of of Exodus relays an exponential growth in numbers of Israelites.

God was faithfully and tirelessly preserving the covenant and the promise for Israel. When the people went to Egypt, God assured them they need not be afraid. The Lord will make them a great nation, will be with them, and shall lead them back out again. (Genesis 46:1-4)

The opening of Exodus not only connects us with events in the latter part of Genesis, but also hearkens back to it’s very beginning, when God spoke to the first human couple. The Lord gave them a five-fold blessing, consisting of commands to 1) be fruitful 2) multiply 3) fill the earth 4) subdue it, and 5) have dominion over it. (Genesis 1:28)

Following the Flood, God blessed Noah, repeating the commands to be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth (Genesis 9:1). Later, God spoke to Abraham, promisingto make him fruitful (Genesis 17:5-9). Moving into Exodus, we see a fulfillment of the commands and the promise taking shape, stating that the descendants of Israel were fruitful and multiplying, so that the land was filled with them.

It was this very blessing of progeny, and the fertile increase of descendants, which sets up the entire book of Exodus. The great and growing numbers of Israelites became a source of concern and fear amongst the Egyptians. It wasn’t long before the Jews were seen as another source of slave labor.

Sometimes, we must bear in mind and remember that great blessing also has an underbelly of great blight. Only God and relationships last forever; everything else is temporary, including our earthly blessings.

Therefore, it is wise to hold all things loosely, with open hands, and not with clenched fists that believes possessing things in this moment will be permanent. The following are some things to remember:

Remember who is in control

When things are going well, it may create the illusion that I am in charge of the blessing. But, in reality, it was given to you, and it can be taken away, as well.

The only thing you can control are your thoughts, feelings, emotions, choices, actions and the story you are telling yourself about what happened in the past, is happening now, and will happen tomorrow.

We all have our personal invisible backpacks to carry. That backpack is ours, and nobody else’s. Others have their own burdens to carry, which are individual to them. They aren’t yours to carry. Their stories aren’t yours to tell.

God is the Sovereign of the universe, and controls all things. That is God’s burden to carry. Not yours. Carrying the world on your shoulders isn’t your job. So, hold loosely whatever happens on this earth, whether for good or ill. 

Remember that life is both planning and improvisation

We have an agenda, make our plans, and put things in place. Yet, in the execution of doing it, we have to move with whatever circumstances and conditions arise – with whatever life throws our way – and then adjust our expectations.

Remember it’s both in planning and in improvising. The Israelites laid plans to go to Egypt, went there, and then had to deal with changing conditions once they were there. All planning and no improvising is unrealistic; and all improvisation with no plan is flying by the seat of your pants and living in a dream world which doesn’t exist.

What’s more, it might be your plan, or your group’s plan, but it’s not everybody’s plan. They have the freedom to say, “No thank you.” So, be careful to not marry yourself to a particular outcome. Release the urge to cling or obsess about certain expectations. Hold your plans loosely, and plan to improvise.

Remember to cooperate with God

In reality, there is a divine/human cooperative which exists on the earth. Ideally, we are to work together, me doing my part, and God handling the rest. And the both of us constantly must be in dialogue with each other.

When we align with this truth, and participate with God and integrate this cooperative into daily life, then we begin to relax, breathe, move with confidence, and speak with purpose. Head, heart, and gut are no longer disparate parts within me, but work together in a harmonious sync with the Lord.

If this is a challenge for you, set aside some time and be in nature. Look around you and observe all the life thriving right in front of you. Connecting with what is alive connects us to the universal Love which exists everywhere. And that Love can help us and heal us – if we will but let it.

I can hold things loosely because I know the internal pressure of “getting it right” isn’t mine to carry. I can cooperate with God, relax, do my best, and trust.

Blessings are wonderful and abound everywhere. Yet, adversity, acrimony, and even abuse still lurk about in this old fallen world. So, may you learn to hold all things loosely, and live as you know you can, and ought. Amen.