2015’s hurry steals the best of me—so my Abba drives me deep into the good old days. The slow days, days of Moses and the Old Testament wait. Hurry tells me to run faster, that the things scribbled on my next pages are worth skipping some for. But my God’s of Moses and 2015–He loves to see me wait. He sits me down—says stay—so I’d be all here while He writes my post-August pages. He says stay, just trust Me on this one. I hold your today and all the tomorrows. Come move at My speed for a while. 

So He rolls back the pages to the Moses ones, nice and slow:

Just to study the Old Testament wait, I’ve had to shake off hurry like I’m made of it. I’m hardwired to hurry. I rush, I race through even paper pages because I’m stir-crazy, because I can’t sit still or read slow, because I’ve grown up knowing this Moses story. He’s the favored one, miracle baby turned chosen one, to rescue the Lord’s own and lead them to what’s better. He’s radically old—my 2015 imagination can’t even picture a 100+ year old hiking Sinai head of the pack. He’s the staff-carrier, the old guy guiding crowds of forgetful followers to the Promised Land he isn’t even granted entrance to. He’s faithful, following His God every which-way, handed tablets of Ten Commandments by the God that wrote them. He’s righteous. He’s obedient–he held his palms up too. He redeems a whole people group, to ultimately resemble the Jesus that’s on the way.

But one little thing falls afresh, falls colorful atop pages of old news: He’s patient. He’s patient—but not the 2015 kind. 2015 patience means you don’t despise traffic or when your lunch date’s late or when job applications move slower than what seems convenient. He’s patient, and moves at actual Godspeed. He’s hardwired to wait. Years of rushed reading make you miss that.

Stuck as family yet foreigner growing up a fostered Hebrew as Egyptian, Moses faced 40 years of slow identity discovery. The Lord was at work, brewing within Moses’ Hebrew heart a passion for His people. He too wanted to hurry—the Lord said stay. He stayed until a Midian getaway, 40 more years. This time, of simplicity and husbandry and corralling a hundred sheep. Years of ordinary, yet the Lord was busy painting dreams and saying stay and Moses was sure listening. He holds time tight in His hands. Our God knows no hurry.

80 years of what seems ordinary and yet all the while he’s sworn he’s something more. And 80 years in, it’s the finest “thank you”—God shows him a dream, says This one’s for you! I’ve been waiting to hand this over. Thanks for staying steady. An adventure of releasing and red-sea redeeming, a big call for a man thinking he was nearing his own little end. 80 years waiting—for his big big big calling, his divine assignment. Our God knows no hurry.

The Lord is good to those
who wait for Him, to the
soul who seeks Him.
| Lamentations 3:25 |

Even mid-mission, Moses waits. He wanders the wild at Godspeed, dancing to the lead of the actual Spirit of God. The Spirit settles, Moses and his people set up camp and stay put. The Spirit rises, they rise awake and on the move. He waits for direction, for holy encounters. He spends his days meeting up with the Spirit of God and waits to experience the fullest of His glory. Our God loves to see him wait. Still he’ll wait for what feels like forever for his Promised Land. Still he’ll wait wait wait for the coming Messiah, for the Holy Spirit deposit. But in the waiting, Moses is far from idle or aimless.  He’s patient. He’s all there. He moves slow, at the Lord’s steady pace. He’s keeping close behind Him–so close, there’s no room for hurry.

Abba, I want to move at Your speed. I trust you with my question-mark next steps, surely they’re worth waiting for. Fine-tune me to Old Testament wait.