It’s been three days. Three long days. People are starting to get thirsty. And grumpy. And panicky. We’re in the middle of the desert – when are we going to find some water?
Ironically, three days ago they had plenty of water. Actually, too much. They stood on the banks of the Red Sea with the Egyptians on their tail and no where to go. But God made a way through the water, on dry ground, and they traversed safely to the other side. When the Egyptians tried to follow, there was plenty of water to swamp their chariots and kill them all.
Three days later, three days into the desert, there’s no water. How many times did they hear the update, “I’m thirsty”? And the first thing they wonder is, “What are we going to do?”
Typical. At least for me. Maybe you’re better at this than I am. But when there’s not enough help, not enough time, not enough money, not enough whatever, the first thing that comes to mind is, “What am I going to do?”
How come I hardly ever ask “What is God going to do?”
God’s the one who brought them out of Egypt. God’s the one who decimated the Egyptians with ten plagues. God’s the one who parted the waters of the Red Sea. God’s the one who caused the waters to return to destroy the Egyptian army. So far, all the people had to do was follow him. He led them with a pillar of cloud during the day and the pillar of fire during the night. He would provide water, food and protection along the way.
When I was listening the the sermon at the hispanic service a few nights ago, one of the small parts I understood was the reminder that it’s Christ’s church. He brings the people together to do his work. It will grow exactly the way he intends. It may decrease at times, just the way he wills. But if you need anything, you go to him. He doesn’t expect you to do the heavy lifting. He just wants you to follow, trust and obey.
Maybe it’s time to stop asking, “What are we going to do?” and start asking, “What are you going to do, God?” That question certainly takes a lot of pressure off of me. It’s not “my” church or congregation or ministry. It’s his. My job? Preach the word. Watch over the flock. Equip the saints. And maybe most importantly, “Be still and know that I am God.”
So that’s what I’ve been working on lately. I’m trying to catch myself when I want to ask, “What am I going to do?” and rephrase the question to, “What is God going to do?” I’ll let you know what I learn.
When I was getting ready to perform a wedding at a non-church venue in St Augustine last fall, the bride’s aunt took a cross pendant next door to the Basilica to have it blessed before giving it to her niece. Someone looked toward me and asked, “Why didn’t you just have him do it?” She just shrugged. 
After I read 
A few years ago I wrote this in one of my journals, a prayer prompt of sorts: “So, where are we going today, Jesus?”
In the Old Testament, people’s lives moved with the rhythm of the eternal.
Right, like I am going to answer that phone call.
Waite for it... 