Moses looked this way, and he looked that way. Isn’t it interesting? He didn’t look up, did he? He looked in both directions horizontally, but he ignored the vertical. And what did he do with the results of his murderous anger? Scripture says “he hid the Egyptian in the sand.”
Invariably, when you act in the flesh, you have something to cover up. You have to bury your motive. You have to hide a contact you made to manipulate the plan. You have to conceal a lie or half-truth. You have to backtrack on a boast. You have to cover up the evidence your fleshly procedure created. It’s just a matter of time before truth catches up with you. The sand always yields its secrets.
This is a good time to emphasize that the capable and gifted are also cursed with vulnerability. The highly qualified live on the cutting edge of the enemy’s subtle attack—the very adversary who prods you to act in the flesh, to do the right thing at the wrong time. And how does he operate? Most of us know the drill.
You find yourself moved by a sense of need. You utter a foolish vow, like Jepthah, and live to regret it for the rest of your days. You hurry the process along, as Abram and Sarai did, and later find yourself with an Ishmael on your hands, mocking the child of promise.
Neglecting to ask God’s counsel, neglecting to seek God’s timing, you step in to handle things prematurely. And by and by, you’ve got a mess on your hands. You’re stuck with a corpse, with a shovel in your hands and a shallow grave at your feet.
You know the odd thing about it all? Most of us aren’t very clever at cover-ups anyway. It amazes me that Moses couldn’t even bury an Egyptian right. Makes me wonder if he left the guy’s toes sticking out of the sand. He failed simply to cover up the corpse.
But what about years and years later, when God took charge and Moses acted according to His timing? Was God able to cover up the Egyptians? God buried their entire army under the Red Sea—horses, weapons, chariots, and all! When God’s in it, the job gets done. With the Lord in charge, failure flees.
Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.