There’s a story in the Bible that reminds me to reach up to God, a story that described a battle between the Israelites and the Amalekites. During this battle, Moses held up a staff – the staff that represented Jehovah. When it was held up, the Israeltes were winning. When Moses lowered his aching arms, they were losing. Moses needed help to hold the staff high during the entire battle, but he got the message: The Lord fought for them, and the victory which that assured for them was worth the effort it took to keep reaching up to God.
He taught me something about this while I was still in college, living in a dormitory. One morning I went down the hall to the dorm restroom, not expecting to meet Jehovah there. As I went about the business of unpacking my grooming essentials I was talking with God, asking him how I was supposed to keep my mind on him and still function in college. It made no sense to me and I wasn’t entirely excited about focusing on him at all; it felt like work and I feared it would keep me from having any fun. I was ignorant of the concepts of a loving relationship with God and of his abiding Spirit so I basically whined at him for a while as I prepared myself for the day.
A quiet thought floated past the back of my mind and pressed itself into my prattling brain. “You’re going to forget your toothpaste” it whispered. I turned to collect my tube of toothpaste from the shelf and put it with my other things so I would not forget it, but there had been something of a taunting quality to that thought, that voice, that made me decide otherwise. I wanted to leave it there just so I could prove to that goading voice that I could remember anything I chose to remember.
I continued my grooming and my one sided conversation with God, all the while keeping that irritating tube of toothpaste on my mental radar. Twice more my monologue was ignored by an annoying sing-song of “You’ll for-ge-et”. I became more and more determined to remember. I refused to pick up the tube; I even refused to glance at it. In fact I defiantly left it there until after I had washed my face, brushed my hair, packed my little bag and talked to three other girls just so I could triumph over the gauntlet that had been so casually thrown down. It had sparked my determination and I was not about to let the challenge get the best of me.
Eventually it was time to leave for class. Imperiously I approached the shelf to collect that smug, offensive little tube of toothpaste. As I swiped it from its place with a grand gesture I heard a small, gentle voice say “Then you can remember me.”
I was stunned. It was such a powerful yet simple lesson. This was a new way to reach toward him. Listening for God was different even than listening to God. It was keeping an attentive attitude, like I did toward your mom and your uncle when they were little, or like I do when I get to spend time with you or one of my other grandchildren. Even when we’re not in the same room I am aware of you, listening for you. It happens naturally because I love you and I want to respond to you. Even in the absence of love it can be done – you might have noticed attentive readiness when riding horses, the way they keep swiveling an ear back toward you, prepared to listen to whatever you might say.
So, while God does fight for us, I also believe he wants us to fight for him in this way – he wants us to fight for our relationship with him. He wants us to fight against our tendency to ignore him. He wants us to fight against distractions that keep us from him. I think he’s even willing for us to fight with him if that’s what it takes to open lines of communication when pain has choked them off.
—– Taken from “The Courtship of Christ”