The Promised Land Isn’t Enough (Monday Morning Faith)

Imagine God offered you everything you've been asking Him for.

The financial pressure disappears. Your family is healthy. The relationship gets better. The job works out. The door finally opens. The prayer you've prayed for years is answered. There's only one condition: You can have all of it, but you don't get Him.

Would you take the deal?

That's essentially the tension Israel faces in Exodus 33. Israel has failed miserably with the golden calf. Yet God hasn't abandoned His promise. He tells Moses that Israel can still go to the land He promised Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. An angel will go before them. Their enemies will be driven out. They'll receive the land flowing with milk and honey.

They can have the destination. They can have the victory. They can have the blessing. But then God says something devastating: “I will not travel among you.” Suddenly, the Promised Land doesn't sound so promising. That's because God's greatest gift to Israel was never Canaan. It was God Himself. And the same is true for us. We can become so consumed with what we want from God that we stop asking whether we actually want God. We want Him to fix the marriage, but do we want Him to change us? We want Him to bless our children, but do we want Him to rule our homes? We want His provision, but do we want Him to shape our priorities?

None of those desires are wrong. We should bring our needs to God. Jesus Himself taught us to pray for our daily bread. But God's gifts become dangerous when we'd be satisfied having them without the Giver. Moses understands that. Later in Exodus 33, God tells Moses, “I will personally go with you, Moses, and I will give you rest.” Moses responds, “If you don't personally go with us, don't make us leave this place.” In other words: I'd rather have the wilderness with God than the Promised Land without Him.

The Hebrew word translated “presence” in this passage is panim. Literally, it means “face.” When God promises Moses, “My presence will go with you,” the language carries the idea of God's face going with him. Moses isn't merely asking for God's assistance from a distance. He wants the nearness of God. That also helps us understand the Tent of Meeting earlier in the chapter. Exodus says the Lord spoke with Moses “face to face, as one speaks to a friend.” Moses doesn't merely want directions from God. He wants relationship with God.

And that's where this becomes incredibly practical. Maybe the most important question isn't, “God, when are You going to get me where I want to go?”
Maybe it's: “God, are You forming me to walk with You where I am?”

We spend so much of life trying to get somewhere. When I finally graduate. When I finally get married. When the kids get older. When the finances improve. When I get the promotion. When I finally retire. When this difficult season ends. We're always looking toward our own version of the Promised Land. But what if God is doing something important in the wilderness? What if the waiting isn't wasted? What if the uncertainty isn't abandonment? What if God cares more about who we're becoming with Him than how quickly we arrive at the destination we want? That's why Moses' prayer is such a good prayer for us.

Before taking the job, making the move, entering the relationship, filling the calendar, or beginning the next season of life, we can pray: “God, I don't want You following my plans. I want to follow Your presence.” And ultimately, that's the good news of Jesus. God's answer to our separation from Him wasn't merely to improve our circumstances. He came to us. John tells us that the Word became flesh and made His home among us. Jesus is Immanuel—God with us. And before Jesus ascended, He left His disciples with this promise: “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

The greatest thing God gives His people is Himself. So give me wilderness with God over Canaan without Him. Give me uncertainty with God over security without Him. Give me difficulty with God over success without Him. Because nothing God gives me can ever replace the gift of God Himself.

Prayer:
Father, I confess that sometimes I want what You can give me more than I want You. Teach me to desire Your presence above Your gifts. Form me where I am, lead me where You want me to go, and help me trust that if You are with me, I have what I need. In Jesus’ Name I Pray, Amen.

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What Are You Asking It To Do? (Monday Morning Faith)