Moses was an old man of eighty years. For forty years–the springtide of his life–he had basked in court favor. The son of the palace, though born in a slave hut. According to Stephen, he was renowned in deed and word, was eloquent in speech, learned in the highest culture of his age, accustomed to leading victorious armies in the field, and assisted in raising pyramids and treasured cities in peace. All that the ancient world could offer was at his feet. But this had been followed by forty other years of exile, poverty, and heartbreak. Instead of the riches of Egypt, he was engaged in tending the sheep of another, and the years slowly passed away in obscurity.

One afternoon a common thornbush suddenly seemed wrapped in flame. Then he heard that inner voice, familiar to all pure and humble hearts, that caused him to realize that the fire was no ordinary flame but the pledge and sign of God’s presence.

We must not suppose that there was more of God in that common bush than in the surrounding landscape. It was simply the focusing of His presence that had always been there, as it is always everywhere. God is as near to each reader of these pages as He was to Moses at that moment. Take this to heart, you who are discouraged and downhearted, God comes to you, though you are humbled and scorched and at the end of yourself. He wraps around you , permeates you, and concentrates Himself on your need. F. B. Meyer

Posted on August 28th, 2013