Am I At Marah Yet?

This morning I have been taking in the beauty of the day. The sun is shining, there is a slight cool breeze, and the sounds of God's creation are all around me on the back patio. I have my cup of coffee and have finished a rousing story in the book of Nehemiah. It's an okay read, but maybe I'm not connected this morning. I'm not interested in anything that Nehemiah has for me right now.

As I sat here taking it all in, I believe that the Spirit of God whispered to me and moved me to back to the book of Exodus. Exodus 15 to be exact. Ah yes. One of my favorite parts of the journey of the children of Israel through the wilderness. This is where they have traveled for days without any sustenance and water. They have found themselves at Marah - where the waters were bitter. I love this part of the story. I love when God shows Moses the tree and he casts it into the water. I love that the water turns instantly into this sweet, sweet tasting water. Water so sweet that the children of Israel never tasted anything so wonderful - ever.

I love that part of the journey through the wilderness because I've been there. I don't think I'm unique. I think we have all, at one point in our lives, been there. This is the way I have interpreted this passage and applied it to my life. I've been in the wilderness, struggling with something. There have been times that I don't think that there is any end in sight to the struggle. Then, I can see, in the distance, the end of the struggle - the end of my thirst to find the answers to the struggle. I feel that God brings me to this place of healing. Then, I taste the waters and they are bitter. By that, I truly mean that I think God has brought me to the answer, but when I know the answer, I'm not excited about it. The beauty of having a relationship with my God, though, is that He knows what is best for me. The answer to the end of my struggle - the sweet end to my trials or temptations isn't just the end of my thirst for the answer - the answer is in the tree. Just like it was at Marah. The answer for the end of my struggle is not the flowing water of Marah - it is the tree - the Cross of Christ. The cross represented death for Christ, but represents healing and life for me. Jehovah Rapha - the God that heals. This name of God comes from this passage. He is the God that heals and that day, as the children of Israel stood at the banks of Marah - stood so close to the end of their trial - God showed them His healing power - the power of the Cross. I know, theologically it wasn't the actual cross...the symbolism of the healing power of the cross.

The cool part of this for me is that God works so amazingly. God takes the bitter things in our life and shows us the cross, and those bitter things can turn sweet. Just like the waters of Marah. It is so easy for me to get caught up in being bitter about circumstances in my life. To be bitter about the things that I've experienced that were not pleasant or good . . . the things I've experienced by my choice and those things that I've experienced because of the choices of others. It's easy for me to take a swig of the bitter water and dwell there. It's not that I live with a victim mentality or a "poor me" outlook on life - I don't. I've been blessed beyond measure in so many exciting ways. But it is easy to slip into the stream of bitterness and think that God will not bring healing to me from my struggles. Yet, just like Marah, He casts the cross into the bitter waters and I can taste the sweet, sweet waters of healing.

Jehovah Rapha - the God that heals me. I read in a commentary one time that "past grace is His pledge for future grace". It may not sound profound on the surface, but it is. His grace that He has shown to me through my past circumstances, life and journey is His pledge for future grace for me to move on from the bitterness to the sweet waters of Marah - and healing. It's a tremendous lesson, sitting on the back patio, enjoying the graces of God. A great way to start a day . . . a great way to carry on a tremendous journey.