When Your Purpose Drives You to the Wrong Place

I'll be transparent and admit, I've been struggling lately. Not in any visible ways that make people point and stare and say: She must have skipped her coffee this morning. 

About a year and a half ago, the Holy Spirit shocked my system through a series of seemingly unrelated, unconnected events that sent the hazy, warm, comfortable fog in which I had been living for so long scattering in a million directions. It was an anointing with His fire, and I became a whole new person. Not that I shed who I was or my heritage or anything like that, but I began to see myself through His eyes, which brought me an entirely new perspective and way of being.

I never want to go back into that fog. I never again want to doze in the complacency of comfort that forgets the truly transforming and refining nature of a holy God. 

But over the last couple of weeks, I've felt myself tumbling down a slope, grasping at Scripture verses and inspiration in my long slide as I've asked myself questions along these lines: What good am I really doing? If I continue faithfully to walk as I am walking and no one is changed, no one bats an eye, no one looks at You, Lord, if there is no harvest, what is the point of anything really? 

The truth is, the fog was comfortable. I had more friends. It was easier to just be, 'cause you know what? I was a round peg in a round hole. When the Lord shaved off parts of me that He wanted to refine, I didn't fit in so well with the world anymore. Square pegs just don't settle well into the round former mold.

When I got up this morning, I opened my Bible to Numbers 20. To set the scene, The Israelite nation has been working their way toward the Promised Land from Egypt, where they had been in slavery for 400 years. What a great promise! To go from chains to freedom, abundant slavery to abundant life, under the promises of the Lord, who miraculously brought them out in an incredible display of His power and might.

They hit the hard times in the desert... and they complain. They grumble. They want water. They want meat. They want gods they can see like the Egyptians had. The Lord met their needs (not the gods; see Exodus 32 for how that went down], and then when they kept grumbling, he stuffed them so full of what they demanded that they literally died. 

The story of Moses is woven throughout this journey because he becomes the intercessor for the people. They grumble, Moses heads to the Tent of Meeting, meets with the Lord (face to face, by the way, which is just not something people did then. Death usually results from such encounters, because a holy God does not mix with sinful man). Moses pleads for the people, the Lord relents sometimes, and thus goes the journey through the wilderness all the way to the borders of the Promised Land.

They get to the borders and Moses sends out twelve guys to spy out the land. Those twelve spies do as they're told, and they bring back reports of all sorts of good things in this land that the Lord has promised them... but because they feared the giants in parts of the land, ten of the spies put their foot down. "No can do. We can't take the Promised Land."

Two of the spies, Joshua and Caleb, were all: "We can take them; the Lord will fight for us, like He did with the Egyptians. Y'all remember walking through a sea with walls of water on both sides, and how the Lord, like, totally took out the entire Egyptian army, even though they were way stronger than us?"

But the other ten spies whipped up the Israelites into a fury of fear, and they flat-out refused to do as the Lord commanded and enter the Promised Land.

Moses hears from the Lord, Who is... understandably... angry. What is the point of all this anyway? His promises to Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Moses... all for naught, seemingly, because His people refuse to trust Him. 

So He says, essentially: "You don't want to enter the Promised Land? Fine. No deal. Go wander in the desert, do what you chose to do. You'll die there instead of in the Promised Land. Your kids will come back, and I'll bring them into the Promised Land." 

The people are mad. Wait a second! The spies said we couldn't take the land, but actually, we can! We don't want no stinkin' desert for another 40 years. We actually do want to enter the Promised Land. Come on, y'all. Let's fight!

Moses watches this go down with horror, because the Lord has now barred them from the land. No! he says. You'll fail!

They don't listen, but... predictably, Moses is right. They try, and the Canaanites beat the Israelites back all the way to Hormah.

Okay, now we're back up to where I was reading in Numbers 20. The Israelites are now in the middle of their 40 year wanderings while they wait for all the original generation to die off (talk about feeling pointless). Numbers 20:2-5 says: "Now there was no water for the community, and the people gathered in opposition to Moses and Aaron [an oft-repeated scene that has never ended well for those opposed to Moses and Aaron]. They quarreled with Moses and said, 'If only we had died when our brothers fell dead before the Lord! Why did you bring the Lord's community into this desert [note: they were there by their own choices, not by Moses and Aaron's], that we and our livestock should die here? Why did you bring us up out of Egypt [note: Egypt was the land where they groaned in anguish and cried out to the Lord for freedom from slavery] to this terrible place? It has no grain or figs, grapevines or pomegranates [note: grain, figs, grapevines, and pomegranates would have been a part of the Promised Land had they chosen obedience to the Lord]. And there is no water to drink!'"

Moses and Aaron do what they've always done. They don't have an answer, or at least... they don't have an answer that is appropriate for polite company, anyway (would you? I'm afraid my answer would not have been very gracious. It's wise that they took it directly to the Lord, which is exactly what they did). They take the Israelites' complaints to the Lord in the Tent of Meeting. They fall facedown, and the glory of the Lord appears to them. The Lord tells Moses: "Take the staff [presumably Aaron's staff which has recently budded to show that Aaron is the Lord's chosen high priest, and which now rests in the presence of the Ark of the Covenant], and you and your brother Aaron gather the assembly together. Speak to that rock before their eyes, and it will pour out its water. You will bring water out of the rock for the community so they and their livestock can drink" (Numbers 20:8).

Even in the desert when the people are blinded by doubt, the Lord provides. Even when the people grumble and wish for the land of their enslavement, the Lord provides. Even when the people have rejected every good thing from the Lord, the Lord provides.

"So Moses took the staff from the Lord's presence, just as He commanded him. He and Aaron gathered the assembly together in front of the rock and Moses said to them: 'Listen, you rebels..."

Pause. Okay, I'm getting the sense that Moses is angry. Like... lost his temper angry. We've seen him lose his temper before (when he broke the first set of ten commandments coming back down from receiving them, because the entire nation was worshiping a golden calf in the middle of the Lord setting up a plan for His people). But this time... Moses does something a little different.

Instead of pointing to God, recalling the nation's attention to the Lord Himself, Moses in his wrath instead shouts, "Listen, you rebels, must we bring you water out of this rock?" 

That little pronoun makes all the difference. We.

In that we, we find a power grab. Moses isn't pointing at God here. He's not giving credence to God for His work. He reduces the Almighty God, Lord of Hosts, Ancient of Days... to a genie in a lamp. Rub the lamp to get your three wishes. Water for you, water for you, and water for you. May you choke on it.

This is so different from the Moses we read about in Numbers 12:3 where it says: "Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth."

In Numbers 20:10-11, he takes it upon himself to bring water from the rock. We bring you water from the rock (he includes Aaron in this, too). 

And then, to complete his disobedience, he strikes the rock with the staff instead of speaking to it.

Here's one thing that got to me this morning: The Lord met the people's needs... even through Moses' disobedient actions. 

Most people remember Ravi Zacharias. He had a huge impact on my life and my doctrine. I loved his spirit and his razor-sharp ability to explain the gospel to an unbelieving world. It was phenomenal how he "demolished arguments and every pretension that set itself up against the knowledge of God" (2 Corinthians 10:5), and he did it all with humility and gentleness. 

As events unfolded following his death, accusations of an unGodly nature began to pour forth against Ravi. If true, Ravi Zacharias, publicly one of the most humble and powerful apologetics ministers of the gospel, will have had a serious departure from faith and works. I know there is debate about how much of what happened is true. None of us will ever know with complete certainty what happened. 

God does, certainly. And one day, Ravi will stand before the throne and be judged, as all of us will (Matthew 25:31-46). But God still anointed Ravi's ministry, in spite of the purported disobedience in his personal life.

So "water gushed out, and the community and their livestock drank" (Numbers 20:11).

God still anointed Moses' ministry, in spite of the purported disobedience in his personal life.

But he and Aaron had to pay the consequences. Neither of these men, who had dedicated nearly their entire lives to shepherding the people of Israel, leading them from slavery to the Promised Land -- would live to enter the ultimate goal of their entire life. Their great purpose, their great mission, should they choose to accept it (and they did)... was to bring the people of Israel to Canaan.

Aaron, in Numbers 20:22-29, died and "was gathered to his people." And then, in Deuteronomy 34:1-4, Moses followed. "Then Moses climbed Mount Nebo from the plains of Moab to the top of Pisgah, across from Jericho. There the Lord showed him the whole land -- from Gilead to Dan, all of Naphtali, the territory of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the western sea, the Negev and the whole region from the Valley of Jericho, the City of Palms, as far as Zoar. Then the Lord said to him, 'This is the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob when I said, 'I will give it to your descendants.' I have let you see it with your eyes, but you will not cross over into it.'"

Then Moses died there, and the Lord Himself buried him. Nobody could ever find his grave, and I think most people believe the Lord took Moses' body via Michael, one of two of the Bible's named angels, because in Jude v. 9, it says: "But even the archangel Michael, when he was disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, did not dare to bring a slanderous accusation against him, but said, 'The Lord rebuke you!'"

Anyway, this morning, I had a little bit of a spiritual meltdown. Not in anger, as Moses did. The questions I asked at the beginning of this post were my meltdown. Of all things most of us desire, the highest desire is to matter. To make a difference. 

And as I put myself in Moses' sandals for a few minutes and looked out from Mount Nebo over the Promised Land that I had spent my life striving to enter, and knowing through my own foolish choice, that I never would enter... the tears came. And came. And came. And came...

What was the point of it all? How have I changed anything? 

Moses' story isn't quite finished. Flip with me, first, to Matthew 17:1-2, where it says: "After six days, Jesus took with him Peter, James, and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There He (Jesus) was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light [insert note: both Daniel 10:5-6 and Revelation 1:13-16 explain the glorified body of Jesus pretty well. I think this is what Jesus looked like on the Mount of Transfiguration, too; so John got to witness it twice]. Just then, there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus."

I can't even wrap my mind around the place in heaven occupied by Moses. To have the honor of being one of two chosen to meet with Jesus on that mountaintop and encourage the Son of God in His earthly ministry... 

Moses missed out on the earthly promised land, but the promises he received in heaven can't even compare. He was faithful to the end, and the Lord gave him his reward. 

The point of the point: Nothing is without meaning. "'Meaningless, meaningless,' says the Teacher," at the beginning of Ecclesiastes, but then at the end of it: "Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil" (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14).

Want purpose? Here's purpose: "For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus [why?] to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."

Moses had a purpose-driven life, but his reward wasn't what he nor we were expecting. He expected the Promised Land of Canaan. He looked out at the wrong Promised Land. It wasn't until he looked up, looked to the Lord, that he received a far greater reward in heaven.

I want my Promised Land.
God says: Here's your Promised Land, but it's not the one you were expecting.

Look up. Higher. Higher, a little more. 

Here, right here. See Me? I am your purpose. Not the land. Not the mission. Not the works. Not the things. Not the people. Sure, you'll experience some of those things, but I. Am. Your. Purpose. 

I AM. And there is no other.