The Leveling Field

By Jean Jantzen

Hot, exhausted, discouraged, Moses sat on the hard ground, his shadow stark and black against the apathetic thirsty sand, listening…listening to the deep dead stillness. Alone in the silence he sat, no wind, no birds, no sound, just the stir of his own breathing and his gaze lost in horizons of emptiness.

Where had he gone wrong? He had been catapulted off the treadmill of human endeavor and smashed into a motionless, mute wall with an earth-shattering jolt. He couldn’t help thinking about the past—all the grandeur and excitement of Pharaoh’s court—him being a nationally respected orator, and for twenty years a highly successful military leader, he said, "Do this" and it was done. His fame as a decorated general had spread throughout the land especially after he brought Egypt a stunning victory over Ethiopia. He remembered the crowds of citizens jubilantly yelling his name. With his leadership ability and the power to carry out his will, he assumed the Israelites would automatically recognize him as their leader. (Acts 7:25)

As Christians have we thought we were prepared and ready to be used in some powerful way by God? Maybe we’ve had a first-rate education, with many degrees, like punctuation marks following along after our name. Or maybe we’ve worked for a highly successful company, held a prestigious position with much responsibility, or maybe we’ve been decorated with medals of honour for bravery and heroism. And among our other impressive credentials we’ve faithfully followed God’s way, living an exemplary role model for others. And then suddenly we find ourselves flung back into living a mundane existence, maybe unable to leave our homes, a demotion so to speak—maybe with a life threatening illness, a disabling accident, a job loss, or a loss of a mate— and then asking "What’s going on? Where do I go from here?"

Why could God not use Moses with all his experience and expertise and leadership qualifications? (Acts 7:22) Why this huge setback? Why downgrading to a lowly shepherd, an abominable job to the Egyptian-way-of-thinking, much like a CEO being reduced to janitor. Hadn’t Moses loved God’s way of life so much he had willingly given up his privileged way of life in the courts?

What was it that God wanted from Moses besides his excellent resume? I, too, thought after being in the church for many years and getting two degrees later in life, that God could use me in a more meaningful, powerful way. Hadn’t I been a light to both students and instructors? Hadn’t I done well to have graduated with honors? I smile now when I read this excerpt from my cover letter that went along with my list of degrees and wonderful qualifications.

"The major business venture of my life has been raising a large family of seven children over a time span of 35 years. I viewed my position as equivalent to an executive of a large corporation. Taking care of a large family demands an efficient structured schedule, where I was on call 24 hours a day. Managing crisis situations was a daily or weekly occurrence. Organization, effective communication skills, time management, problem solving and budgeting were all-important aspects of my job. A good working relationship with all these young people required much diplomacy, love, and tact. How many of us have enjoyed and endured 25 years of working with teenagers and lived to tell the tale? I also found time for hobbies such as reading, gardening, home-canning, sewing, camping, crocheting, ceramics, and knitting sweaters a half-a-dozen at a time."

I thought I was ready, well-equipped for the world, or anything God could throw at me. And that now, especially after achieving two "university degrees" I must be ready for something big. Wouldn’t God open a major door? Where would he lead me to let my light shine? Imagine my surprise when nothing happened. Big doors did not open. I found myself looking after the elderly and their daily needs, even to bathing and toiletry requirements, being a helpmate for my ailing husband and from time to time my aging mother—lowly, subservient endeavors according to the world’s standards. Was this a demotion? What exactly did God want me to learn even though I loved and was content with my labor… and yet…

I looked at Moses’ example. What was it he needed to learn still? Moses knew God had trained him to deliver his chosen people out of slavery. Just look at his qualifications. He thought he was ready for God’s call to action. Now cast off and sweaty, the frills were gone, stripped away. Here in the stark lonely wilderness, degrees, beautiful clothes, talent, rank didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how many troupes he had led into battle, it didn’t matter how smart he was—that he had hobnobbed with the rich and famous. It was all gone and Moses was naked before the Lord. Moses had to learn and we have to learn that "unless a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abides alone: but if it die, it brings forth much fruit" (John 12:24) (Romans 12:1).

Moses took it upon himself to perform the task instead of inquiring or waiting on God. (Exodus 2:11-14) He had not learned it is "not by my strength, nor by power, but by my spirit" (Zechariah 4:6) that we serve God. We see Moses needed more courses to master in God’s private school, for he was too strong for God to use. Moses’ strength originated from self. True strength results only when we recognize our own weaknesses, like Paul says "…for my strength is made perfect in weakness…for when I am weak, then am I strong" (2 Corinthians 12:9,10).

We must learn to look to God for strength and in order to do that we have to recognize how weak we are without Him. No matter Moses’ life experience, education, appeal, Moses was a much different man after forty years in the wilderness, just as the Apostle Paul was after three. Moses no longer was confident in himself when he stood before Pharaoh, neither was Paul before Caesar, they knew how much they needed God. So sooner or later, usually later, in our Christian life we need to spend that time in the wilderness with God. Mr. H.W. Armstrong had to.

Mr. Herbert Armstrong states in his autobiography: "But I had been beaten down. God’s hand brought it about…Repeated business reverses, failure after failure, had destroyed self-confidence. I was broken in spirit. The self in me didn’t want to die. It wanted to try to get up from ignominious defeat and try once again to tread the broad and popular way of vanity and of this world …it was truly a battle for life…in the end I lost that battle…from then on, this defeated no-good life of mine was God’s…it was His to use as His instrument, if He thought he could use it."

I have often wondered why after many years in the church and as we grow older we, or our loved ones, suffer devastating illness or disability—a dramatic drop in income, or mobility. What do we learn from it? Maybe it’s the final lesson—and in our physical weakness, our dependence, our powerlessness to change things—we finally realize—we are wholly in God’s hand. There is no one or nothing but God—a time of humility, a time of reflection, a time of solitude, a time to spend with God. Any major player in God’s plan spent quality time in the wilderness—Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Joshua, Nebechadnezar, Job, David, the Apostle Paul and even Christ to name a few, so we too must endure that wilderness phase.

When we enter the wilderness stage of learning there is a leveling out. Our life of busyness, achieving, fulfilling our dreams are put on hold. God had certainly trained Moses his whole life to do a particular job, just like he trained Mr. Armstrong or the Apostle Paul. But their training was not finished. He needed to add the final touch—just like we need the final touch to make us ready for God’s kingdom. So God allows disappointments and sometimes allows us to go backwards or come to a standstill—so we can get our eyes fixed firmly on God instead of self. It was God’s job to deliver Israel His way, not Moses’ way. God had to teach Moses to rely completely on Him and to learn he was just an instrument to be used by God. We too must learn that same lesson. Then we can say as Job said, "I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye sees you. Wherefore I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job 42:5,6).