Moses is no confident speaker, eager for a pulpit invitation. But God, who watched the Israelites in their misery and heard their cries in Egypt, picks Moses to deliver the history-making message of God’s promise to deliver them from oppression.
If Moses would just take a moment, he might realize that the God who is capable of setting people free could surely free Moses’ tongue and keep his knees from knocking. But grasping the identity of the Holy One who sends us out usually takes a while.
Have you ever had the kind of internal conversation that Moses has with I AM? “Who am I that I should stand before people and bring a word that could lead them out of despair, out of oppression, out of stifling self-doubt? Who is this God who calls me to speak—dare I even utter that holy name? Will they know it’s you who sent me?” Such questions have tugged at me like a syrup-handed toddler.
And sometimes God answers.
“I am the God of Eve. I am the God of Sarah, of Leah and Rachel. I am the God of Hagar, of Tamar. I am the God of Shiphrah and Puah. I am the God of scrappy women, of trailblazers and twelve-steppers. I am the God of do-overs and maybe-next-timers, of clenched fists and teary protests. I am the God of people who have only ever heard a no when their soul has craved a yes. I am the God of every unnamed woman who ever carried the burden of life.”
And, with the gentlest shove toward the mass of people who need to be free, God whispers, “Now, go. Tell them who I am. I will carry you.”
What is God calling you to do? What does this show you about God?
God of our mothers and our fathers, we are listening for your voice. Amen.