You Have Only To Be Silent
And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” — Exodus 14:13-14 (ESV)
As I considered this nation-forming, history-altering event on the shores of the sea, it causes me to reflect on all the minuscule moments that have passed in my life where I too have questioned the way forward. Or not-so-minuscule. Even now. As a pandemic threatens, as friends become distant, as I balance the call of ministry to others with that of my immune-suppressed wife, or as I think of the unthinkable as I pray beside my daughter who suffers from chronic lung disease. Every path forward seems hidden. Every road cloaked in darkness. Hemmed in and frustrated with an enemy on our heels, this is the moment when despair can raise its voice. And it has.
In the early hours of the morning, when the household gently sleeps in darkness, I feel my chest tighten and pulse quicken. I rise and pad quietly down the hall. Expertly evading the squeaking floorboard that will rouse my sleeping son, I find a lonely place on a lounge and cry out to God. “How can I shepherd others to find their peace in you, when my spirit is so troubled within me?” I wish I had some great wisdom of revelation to convey to you, that the warmth of the Spirit ran over me like water, or that tongues of flame came with rushing wind, or even that an angelic messenger comforted me. I wish I could report that I was caught up into the throne room to be given privileged access to the throne room of heaven, or that even a lowly occasion of my Bible randomly flipping open to reveal some long-forgotten verse comforted me.
Yet none of those things have happened. Instead, I have been left to lament and trust, to utter anew, ”Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”
But then, the silence spoke, rebuking me for seeking something that she alone offers; comforting me that her embrace is a reminder of my only need in the face of a God who forms the breath that fills my lungs, or who tomorrow may withhold it.
Silence.
I require only to be silent. To be silent and wait. To be silent and watch.
Moses’ exhortation to the people as they stood hemmed in on every side, facing certain death, is staggering!
“Shut your mouth and open your eyes!”
The problem with this, of course, is that I am prone to do the opposite. My default response to seemingly insurmountable opposition is, ‘Shut my eyes and open my mouth’ — though rarely does my mouth open to God.
If I were to re-write these two verses to reflect my way of dealing with an ‘Egyptian’ problem, it would read like this:
And Chris moaned aloud to anyone who would listen, “Worry much, frantically look for an escape, see if you can figure this out. For the Egyptians you see today will probably come back again tomorrow, so prepare for the worst. You got yourself into this, so get yourself out. All you need to do is muster up enough spiritual prowess and faith and it will probably all work out in the end.”
Moses’ closing words ring out across the generations, “and you have only to be silent”.
When was the last time I simply stood silently firm, eyes fixated on the salvation of God? I’m ashamed to even consider trying to quantify the hours, weeks, months and maybe even years since I stood this way.
What about you? Will you and I wait, and stand with expectant wonder, looking for the salvation of our God? Will you stand silently with me?
I don’t want to stand alone.
