Each morning, as Moses rose from his bedchamber, he looked over the wide expanse of the Egyptian kingdom, a kingdom that would one day be his. The lush banks of the Nile, the far-reaching mountains of the Sinai, the stunning architecture, culture, and wealth of the world’s only superpower.

But as Moses peered out his window, he didn’t see Egypt’s greatness. Because every massive pyramid that rose up from the hot dessert sand, every garden which graced the Nile, every overflowing storehouse... was built on the backs of the Hebrews. The Hebrews were unwanted slaves, immigrants who were seen as a threat to the Egyptian way of life.

To everyone else, the cracking of the taskmasters’ whips was just part of the harmony of everyday kingdom life. But for Moses, it was discordant. These were his brothers and sisters, cousins and uncles, suffering under the thumb of an unjust ruler.

Every time he walked away with a hollow feeling in his gut. I’ve got to do something.

Moses' Quick First Action

When we piece together the various accounts of Moses life from Genesis, Acts, and Hebrews, we find a single, crystallizing moment where Moses made his big move. He faced a terrible choice. He could hide his identity and ignore the crisis involving his brethren or he could turn his back on a life of wealth and royalty and face an uncertain future.

For Moses, it really wasn’t a tough choice, because he never really forgot his roots. He never forsook the faith of his birth mother. Plus, Moses had a big heart. He couldn’t enjoy the luxuries around him while others suffered so mercilessly. He had to do something, anything.

Now, we’re so quick to judge Moses’ impulsive killing of a Egyptian taskmaster as a rash and unwise action, but before we get on our high horse, let’s consider something. At least Moses did something. Moses risked everything to help someone in need. Would we do that?

American Christians are really in the same position as Moses. Thousands around the world die every day from starvation, disease, and war. Even some in our own borders live in poverty. Yet we’ve conditioned ourselves to turn off the TV when the images appear. We send letters from mission groups straight into the recycle bin. Visiting missionaries get a nice pat on the back, a small check, and are forgotten within a week.

When the cries of the suffering our window sill, love should compel us, like Moses, to do something.

The Wilderness of Limitation

The plight of the Hebrews moved Moses to action, but the next forty years would be a huge test. Would the radical faith that saw him give up a life of comfort in the kingdom of Egypt sustain him through forty seemingly fruitless years in the wilderness?

Perhaps you’re like Moses and you’ve said to God, “Okay, I hear you, I want to do something,” and now, all of a sudden, there obstacles in the way. Like big, 40-years-in-the-wilderness obstacles. Now what?