There is a spot between a rock and a hard place
called a cleft: a crack, crevice or fissure.
I’ve been there. Have you?
It’s not so bad. In fact, it’s rather secure and protective.
Nothing can reach me there.
Nothing but the hand of God.
That’s where Moses was when desperation backed him up against the mountain.
He was arguing with God because everything he had worked for so long and hard had shattered around his feet.
He was arguing with God because things weren’t going the way he planned. People had disappointed him. He had disappointed himself. Life was not good.
“You said you’d go with me -- where are you?” he shouted.
Had he forgotten the Red Sea?
“I am with you,” God said.
“Prove it. Show yourself.”
A death wish? No one sees the face of God and lives to tell about it.
Have you been that desperate? So desperate that death seems better than what you’re going through?
But God said,
“There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock.”
And he hid Moses in the hard place - the cleft - and covered him with his hand.
The hand that held a man of clay,
and held back the sea,
and would one day hold the nails.
And as he passed by, Moses peeked out and saw the back of God.
Have you been that close to God?
In the hard place?
Where fear and fatalism die?
It is the sweetest place I know.
So why do I wait for pain to push me into his presence?
When I can choose to be in that place
On a rock.
“And I will … cover you with my hand.”
O God, cover me.