Have you ever felt as if you were wandering somewhere in the back side of the desert? Or, for us coastal dwellers, on some obscure island where the only boat available had been in conflict with a reef. I have and, I suspect, so have you.
This week I read the story of a fellow I'll call Mo. This character had so much going for him: a mom who adored him, a childhood immersed in wealth, an education without the cloud of debt and opportunities most of us could only dream about. Mo had it made.
In spite of this, he had a kind heart for those less fortunate and, in particular, for a group of people he saw as oppressed and mistreated. In a vain attempt to help them, he ended up murdering a man. Mo fled for his life.
To say that he experienced a fall from his former life is too weak; his world collapsed. No longer the centre of attention in the palace where he grew up, he took up the job of sheep herding. Considered the lowliest of professions, he literally wandered in the desert, tasked with making sure the bleating creatures had food and water enough to survive and, hopefully, thrive. In the place where I picked up the story, he'd done that for forty years, enough to eradicate any lingering aspirations of greatness. I'm just amazed that he simply hadn't thrown in the proverbial towel.
By now you may have guessed that Mo is actually Moses and you're right. Moreover, if ever there is an example of someone who's a recipient of God's grace, it's him. The best news is that, in spite of our past, grace is extended to each of us.
More about Mo and grace next week.
"…justified by faith, we have peace with God…."
