The Applause of Heaven - Max Lucado [19]
"Moses," spoke the voice from the bush, "throw down your staff."
Moses, who had walked this mountain for forty years, was not comfortable with the command.
"God, you know a lot about a lot of things, but you may not know that out here, well, you just don't go around throwing down your staff. You never know when ..."
"Throw it down, Moses."
Moses threw it down. The rod became a snake, and Moses began to run.
"Moses!"
The old shepherd stopped.
"Pick up the snake."
Moses peered over his shoulder, first at the snake and then the bush, and then he gave the most courageous response he could muster.
"What?"
"Pick up the snake ... by the tail." (God had to be smiling at this point.)
"God, I don't mean to object. I mean, you know a lot of things, but out here in the desert, well, you don't pick up snakes too often, and you never pick up snakes by the tail."
"Moses!"
"Yessir."
Just as Moses' hand touched the squirmy scales of the snake, it hardened. And Moses lifted up the rod. The same rod he would lift up in Pharaoh's court. The same rod he would lift up to divide the water and guide two million people through a desert. The rod that would remind Moses that if God can make a stick become a snake, then become a stick again-then perhaps he can do something with stubborn hearts and a stiff-necked people.
Perhaps he can do something with the common.
Or consider another shepherd from Bethlehem.
There are certain things anyone knows not to do. You don't try to lasso a tornado. You don't fight a lion with a toothpick. You don't sneeze into the wind. You don't go bear hunting with a cork gun. And you don't send a shepherd boy to battle a giant.
You don't, that is, unless you are out of options. Saul was. And it is when we are out of options that we are most ready for God's surprises.
Was Saul ever surprised!
The king tried to give David some equipment. "What do you want, boy? Shield? Sword? Grenades? Rifles? A helicopter? We'll make a Rambo out of you."
David had something else in mind. Five smooth stones and an ordinary leather sling.
The soldiers gasped. Saul sighed. Goliath Jeered.
David swung. And God made his point. "Anyone who underestimates what God can do with the ordinary has rocks in his head."
Or what about the blind man Jesus and the disciples discovered? 3
The followers thought he was a great theological case study.
"Why do you think he's blind?" one asked.
"He must have sinned."
"No, its his folks' fault."
"Jesus, what do you think? Why is he blind?"
"He's blind to show what God can do."
The apostles knew what was coming; they had seen this look in Jesus' eyes before. They knew what he was going to do, but they didn't know how he was going to do it. "Lightning? Thunder? A shout? A clap of the hands?" They all watched.
Jesus began to work his mouth a little. The onlookers stared. "What is he doing?" He moved his jaw as if he were chewing on something.
Some of the people began to get restless. Jesus just chewed. His jaw rotated around until he had what he wanted. Spit. Ordinary saliva.
If no one said it, somebody had to be thinking it: "Yuk!"
Jesus spat on the ground, stuck his finger into the puddle, and stirred. Soon it was a mud pie, and he smeared some of the mud across the blind man's eyes.
The same One who'd turned a stick into a scepter and a pebble into a missile now turned saliva and mud into a balm for the blind.
Once again, the mundane became majestic. Once again the dull became divine, the humdrum holy. Once again God's power was seen not through the ability of the instrument, but through its availability.
"Blessed are the meek," Jesus explained. Blessed are the available. Blessed are the conduits, the tunnels, the tools. Deliriously joyful are the ones who believe that if God has used sticks, rocks, and spit to do his will, then he can use us.
We would do well to learn a lesson from the rod, the rock, and