A light fog covered the mountain he trekked. The elders, along with his personal assistant, had come along to offer support. Yet the higher they climbed, the thicker the fog grew. The air was becoming harder to breathe. Coming to a point where they could go no further, Moses fell to his knees to catch his breath. It was then he noticed the blue, sapphire-like stone that seemed paved into the dirt. He followed the stunningly beautiful sight until his eyes reached a pair of perfct feet.  His heart burst into soaring joy and dreadful fear at the same time. 

It was God. 

In the clearing behind God, Moses could see the glorious bodies of constalations and galaxies. He felt swept up in the vision, almost as if he were floating towards the heavens. 

“Come up to me into the mount,” said God.

 Looking behind him, Moses saw many of the elders had fainted in fear. Others were flat on the ground, their faces buried in terror. He knew he had to leave them behind and finish the climb alone. After all, God had not called them to the top. 

The climb up the steep mountain was made more intense by the thick, white clouds that hung in the air. Each turn on the nonexistent path was made in apprehension for what he couldn’t see ahead. Scarpes and mud covered his legs from the stumbles he had blindly taken, yet he was not detered. He knew that God had called him and he must obey. 

The last few days have been rather lonely for me in this cold, dark hospital room. It has been cold because my husband has very hot blood and insists the thermostat stay below 65. It is dark because he has been very sleepy from the pain meds and it’s already hard enough to sleep with the beeping machines and wires and tubes everywhere. The least I can do is to leave the shades drawn and the lights off. 

I am bundled up under my soft, fluffy blanket, stretched out on a plastic couch that is pushed up against large windows. I was able to pull one shade up to just above the couch, giving me the ability to peek down from the seventh floor. Rows of evenly spaced houses peek out from among tree tops in the distance. The sun is shining brightly above, revealing tiny cars hurriedly driving down the busy street below. I can hear sirens in the distance as an ambulance pulls into view. A helicopter overhead vibrates the windows as it nears the landing pad nearby. 

Life is going on all around me. Moms are taking their kids to school and babies are crying. Employees are punching in their time cards, greeting each other after the long weekend off. I look on at the world below me in jealousy, wishing I was anywhere but here. 

Maybe we will hear today that the cancer did not spread into Gabe’s lymph nodes. Maybe he will not need treatment. Maybe we will just go home and Gabe will finish healing and life will return to normal. 

Or maybe life will get a little harder. 

I have been sitting in this hospital room feeling sorry for myself and fearful of our future. Until I read Exodus 24. God spoke to me in that chapter this morning, revealing to me in a passage I had read a hundred times, something I had never noticed before. 

God called Moses up that mountain. He tried to bring some friends along, but he ended up finishing that climb alone. We are not told how long that journey was.  He was probably scared and lonely. Once Moses reached the top, he hung out alone in the thick clouds for six days before he heard from God. Once God started to speak, He did not stop for 40 days. Moses communicated with God, saw God face to face for 40 days. 

When Moses returned to the bottom of the mountain, the children of Israel were afraid of Him. His face had changed while in the presence of God. Moses had to wear a veil over his face to hide its brightness from people. 

I may not have wanted to go up this mountain God has called my husband and I to. I may be feeling sorry for myself that we are having to climb alone. Yet, if it is at all possible to have close fellowship with God while up here and to walk away changed- well, then I think it will be worth it. Because, ” in Thy presence is fullness of joy, at Thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.” – Psalm 16:11