Moses was a frightened and disillusioned fugitive running, escaping for his very life. His vaunted education now meant nothing to him. His knowledge of hieroglyphics and Egyptian culture gave him no comfort. His military victories seemed hollow. Thanks to his rash act of violence, that same military wanted to kill him. And with every step, he probably groaned within himself over his untimely deed, saying things like, “Life is over. God can never, never use me. I’m absolutely finished.”
Maybe that’s where you are today as you read these words. This man Moses lived thousands of years ago, but the situation I’ve just described may seem as contemporary to you as today’s stale bread in your kitchen. You say, “I’ve worked so hard. Tried so many things. Pushed myself so relentlessly. But it’s gotten me nowhere. Nothing has worked for me. It’s curtains.”
Believe it or not, you may be closer than ever in your life to a spiritual breakthrough. You won’t quit running in the flesh until you get to the endless, waterless sand dunes. When you finally get there, when you finally stumble to a stop in the pitiful shade of some sun-scorched rock, you will be saying to yourself, “Will God ever, ever use me?” And there you’ll sit.
When the self-life finally sits down, the well of a new life lies near. When will we ever learn that? Highly qualified, capable people prefer to be on the move; sitting down goes against the grain. Yet when that broken forty-year-old named Moses finally slumped to the ground at the end of a self-driven life, fresh, cool drinking water was available right next to him.
Sit down. That’s right, my friend, sit down!
You have run far enough. You have pushed long enough. You have fought, demanded, and manipulated your way for too many years. God has finally grabbed your attention. He is saying, “Quit! Stop! Let Me handle it! Sit there on the hot sands of the desert where you have brought yourself. Look at what lies next to you. It is a well, full of fresh water.” Soon it will be God’s delight to bring up the bucket and refresh your soul. Sit still. Stay there. Be quiet. Listen.
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.