Lord, Teach Us Your Ways

Mount Horeb, where first Moses and later the prophet
Elijah sought refuge during times of persecution in their lives, was
not what it appeared to be. Though forbidding and barren, as the name
“Horeb” (“desolation”) implies, it actually came to symbolize that
season in a person’s life during which a desolate soul could find the
presence of God.

Both Elijah and Moses before him found fresh
encounters with God on Horeb. Surrounded by the bleak and barren
environment, the Lord reduced His servants to one focus: God alone.

The Horeb experience tells us that God accommodates our
times of desolation and uses them to prepare us for greater glory. Out
of our barrenness comes a renewed dependency upon God, from which new
assignments and increased power emerge.

It was in the cleft of a rock near Horeb that Moses
prayed, “If I have found grace in Your sight, show me now Your way,
that I may know You” (Ex. 33:13, NKJV).

And it was here that the Lord, in turn, promised, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (v. 14).

We cannot say we truly know God if we remain ignorant of
His ways. To know the ways of a person is to know his heart’s
motivations as well as how he would respond to the blessings and
challenges of life. Moses knew the Lord in the deepest intimacy
possible; he knew God’s ways.

The Bible tells us that the Lord revealed His acts to the sons of Israel, but He made known His ways
to Moses (Ps. 103:7). To know the ways of God is to know the motives of
His heart and the secrets of His passions. It is to be amazed at the
resolve of His love and compelled to humility by His attraction to the
lowly.

The Lord had promised Moses, “My presence will go with
you.” When God’s presence accompanies our actions, all the energy we
once spent worrying and planning is reclaimed and offered back to God
in praise and effective service.

The outcome of being companioned through life with Christ
is in His next promise, “I will give you rest” (Ex. 33:14). To enter
God’s rest does not imply that we have become inactive but that God has become active. Thus, Jesus calls, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).

How the church today, weary and desperate, needs to
return to Jesus and re-enter God’s rest! When we are yoked to Christ,
our burdens are transferred to the vastness of His strength and
abilities. He becomes to us an untiring resource for our weakness; He
is unfailing wisdom for our ignorance.

At the place of rest, Christ becomes a continual
life-spring of grace and virtue. We can cease from our anxious labors
and, unfettered from our ideas and traditions, serve Him in the
unlimited strength of His might.

God has always been more concerned with the condition of our hearts than with the activity of our hands. What we become to Him is far more consequential than all we shall ever do for Him. He wants our love and companionship.

Indeed, the Scriptures tell us that He “jealously desires
the Spirit which He has made to dwell in us” (James 4:5, NASB). Thus,
if our devotion to our task exceeds our devotion to Him, He will
personally hinder our success. It is out of love that God delivers us
from the unanointed momentum of our zeal. He intentionally dries up our
vigor.

The Lord insists that our success originate not from our
strength but from our union with Him. Our time of desolation,
brokenness and disappointment becomes a tool in His hand by which He
works within us a deeper dependency upon His strength.

Alone with God on Horeb, Moses prayed, “Show me Your
glory” (Ex. 33:18, NKJV). The Lord responded, “I will make all My
goodness pass before you” (v. 19). At the center of Christ’s
resplendent glory is His incomparable goodness. Indeed, our Horeb
experience becomes the very site where, in spite of our sense of
failure, God reveals to us His goodness.

To be personally restored to the knowledge of God’s goodness is what Elijah desperately needed. So it is for us.

The Cave of Withdrawal

It can be a crushing experience to give your very best
and still fall short. Elijah had been discouraged with his inability to
effect revival in God’s people. He fled Jezebel and traveled south
nearly 200 miles to Horeb, where he lodged in a cave on the
mountainside.

Scripture tells us that “hope deferred makes the heart
sick” (Prov. 13:12). Elijah had lost hope that revival would come to
Israel. When we lose hope we simultaneously lose faith, for faith is
the substance of the thing hoped for. Without hope or faith, all we
have is empty religion.

When we become heartsick with disappointment and
discouragement, we also lose perspective. We feel that we are
responsible for the results. We must remember that, apart from the
cooperating work of the Holy Spirit, no man can change another person’s
heart, much less the heart of a city or nation.

Much of Elijah’s discouragement came from the false
expectations he had placed upon himself. Often when we receive an
assignment from the Lord, we, like Elijah, begin immediately to imagine
the results. We project ourselves prematurely into a place of success
and fulfillment.

Yet we do not know what the result will be—only that we
should obey the Lord. We must leave the fulfillment in the hands of Him
who does “exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think” (Eph.
3:20).

Elijah withdrew into a cave on Horeb. For us, self-pity
can become a spiritual cave. It can trap us in a dark hole of
loneliness and pain. In this place of isolation we fail to hear the
encouragement of God; all we hear is the echo of our own voices
magnifying and distorting our problems.

Elijah was alone and despairing, yet the Lord knew his
heart. “What are you doing here?” the Lord asked him (1 Kin. 19:9). And
Elijah said, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God of hosts; for
the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your
altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left; and
they seek to take my life” (v. 10).

Elijah wanted desperately to see the nation awakened, but
he did not understand the role God would have him play. Perhaps
Elijah’s main mistake was that he was personally shouldering the burden
of Israel’s revival. Not knowing his own place, he assumed the place of
God.

Calling Elijah out of the cave, the Lord told him, “Go
out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord” (v. 11). As Elijah
stepped out of the cave’s darkness, an awesome event occurred.

“And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong
wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the
Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an
earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the
earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire
a still small voice” (vv. 11-12).

A New Revelation of God

There are times when, to lead us on into new authority
and blessings, God must liberate us from the container of our previous
experiences. The Lord was passing by, but He was not in the wind, the
earthquake or the fire, all of which were familiar symbols to Elijah.
The Lord who caused these mighty manifestations was not in them.

For Elijah, mighty manifestations had been signs of God’s
approval. But something new was at hand that required a fresh
submission to the living God. A double portion of power was coming! The
distinguishing characteristic of this new anointing would be seen not
only in supernatural manifestations but also in greater wisdom and
compassion.

Earthquakes, fires and storms—the signs that accompanied
Elijah—are the signs of our times as well. But to enter the double
portion, we must learn to recognize God’s nearness when there are no
“earthquakes” or “storms” to capture our attention. He demands we enter
a more refined relationship with Him, one that is based on His love and
the whisper of His word, not merely upon spiritual phenomena or the
issues of our times.

After the last sign, there came “a still small voice” (1
Kin. 19:12). Elijah recognized it: The presence of God was returning.
Elijah “wrapped his face in his mantle” lest he look upon God (v. 13).

Perhaps it was near this very site that Moses, 500 years
earlier, hid when the Lord passed by. Now it was Elijah’s turn.
Entering this eternal stillness was the person of God.

We too must learn to hear the voice of Him who rarely
speaks audibly and observe the actions of Him who is otherwise
invisible. Elijah would gain the courage to endure Jezebel’s wrath the
same way Moses faced the rage of Pharaoh: “He endured, as seeing Him
who is invisible” (Heb. 11:27). We must learn to detect, without great
signs, the still, small voice of God.

He will not fight for our attention; He must be sought.
He will not startle us; He must be perceived. It took no special skill
to “discern” the earthquake, the fire or the great storm. But to sense
the holy quiet of God, our other activities must cease.

In our world of great pressures and continual
distractions, the attention of our hearts must rise to the invisible
world of God’s Spirit. We must learn to see Him who is unseen.

A New Beginning

In the quieting of Elijah’s heart, the Lord in His
goodness drew near, reassuring Elijah that he was not alone in his
battle: There were still 7,000 Israelites who had not bowed to Baal.
Next, a new commission came.

The Lord told Elijah to anoint Hazael as king over Syria
and Jehu as king over Israel. He also was to train Elisha, who would be
his successor (1 Kin. 19:15-16).

At Horeb, God released a “double portion” of spiritual
power. Although the Lord gave the new anointing to Elijah, it would be
Elisha who would walk in it (2 Kin. 2:9-14). Elisha would do twice as
many miracles. More than any other Old Testament prophet, Elisha’s
works would most resemble those of Christ Himself.

Elijah did not personally bring national restoration, but
he prepared the way for Elisha, who brought the closest thing to
revival the northern tribes ever experienced. Out of his Horeb
encounter with God, Elijah received a greater understanding of his
place in God. His call was not to establish, but to “go before” and
prepare the way for greater things to come.

In fact, Elijah was so successful at “preparing the way”
that his spiritual anointing was apportioned to John the Baptist as a
herald to Christ’s first coming. Elijah is destined to prepare the way
for Christ’s second coming as well (see Mal. 4:5-6; Matt. 17:11).

As this age ends, God’s promise to us is that we too
shall receive a “double portion” (Is. 61:7; John 14:12). What can this
mean but that the Lord is going to reveal Himself to us in glories we
have never known before?

Do not despair if you find yourself in a time of
desolation. In truth, with God, our desolation is but preparation for a
new beginning of power and service—an opportunity for God to “show us
His ways.”

Our task is to be still and know that Christ is God. He
shall triumph over all His foes. He will be exalted in all the earth,
and in Him is the stronghold of God.

O Master, how easily I fall into dead religious habits
and spiritual dullness! Lord, I long to know Your ways, to have eyes
that really see and ears that clearly hear. Teach me, Lord Jesus, the
intimacies of God. Remove the mystery surrounding Yourself that I might
truly know You. Forgive me for looking for signs instead of listening
for Your voice. O God, how I long to truly know You as Moses did, to
abide in Your glory.

Restore to Your church the double portion You have
promised, and guide us into the fullness of Your power. In Jesus’ name.
Amen.

Francis Frangipane is the pastor of River of Life Ministries, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and the author of The Three Battlegrounds, The House of the Lord and five other books. He is also a contributor to Charisma magazine.