Home at Last
Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian, and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush.
It’s a long way from Pharaoh’s palace to Horeb, friend. Some measure the trek to be around five thousand miles, and it’s astonishing to think that Moses would ride a horse that far just to escape Pharaoh’s vendetta! I’ve travelled 5,000 miles a few times in my life as well, but I cheated, sort of. I used an airplane and a car for the bulk of the trek, so I can’t really relate to the courage that this sort of journey would take. Still, that’s not really what I mean by Horeb being a long way from Egypt. I’m not talking about miles, I’m talking about the man. I’m talking about the distant between Moses’ new life and his old one, between his occupation under Jethro’s roof and his occupation under Pharaoh’s, between being a nobody in the back hills and being a prince in the big city. And friend, let’s not overlook the fact that God could’ve manifested Himself to Moses while he was still a prince in Egypt, but He didn’t. He waited till Moses was a shepherd, till Moses was effectively far enough away from the lights and sounds of a thundering city to hear God whisper. What poignancy! But what drives Moses to this spot in the first place? Is the grass greener? Is some heavenly ray gleaming down on this particular ridge, urging him there? Or is it merely just the next step in a million steps that day, the next hill around the bend, the next grassy knoll in an infinite range, the last stop before a long trek back home? Either way, our Lord loves to mark mundane moments and insignificant places as holy ground. He loves to turn ordinary places into unforgettable landmarks. The kind we can return to time and time again for renewed fellowship.
My Horeb recently has been this little spot in the woods at Raven Rock State Park where I sit alone, in the cold, with only the birds and squirrels as my witnesses, to talk with the Lord and reflect on His Word. Where’s yours?