Slogging through Exodus and Leviticus, I asked God to show me something, anything, new.
I came to the tenth chapter of Leviticus. Two of Aaron's sons (all of them priests) offered "unauthorized fire before the Lord. . .so the fire came out from the presence of the Lord and consumed them."
Moses rebuked Aaron. More or less saying, "What can you expect when you disobey the Lord's commands?"
Aaron's response? He remained silent.
I knew the story, but it struck me in a new way after the death of my child. How callous Moses seems, how cruel God seems. Yes, I understand God is holy and I am grateful we live in an age of grace; but how my heart aches for Aaron.
Before, if I noticed Aaron's reaction at all, I might have attributed it to awe or acceptance or worship. But now, with a grieving mother's heart, I see him differently. I can just imagine Aaron standing there, white as a sheet. Biting his tongue in his effort to keep from spitting the words running through his head. How could you, God? Was it really that terrible? My sons! Why didn't you take me instead? Of course God knew Aaron's heart, but Aaron kept quiet, obeyed God's commands regarding their deaths out of fath and fear, if not out of love.
God wants my obedience even when I don't feel like it. Of course He wants both. But feeling follows action, not the other way around. I'm sure Aaron's obedience in the midst of his pain was a pleasing sacrifice to God.
May the same be true of me.
Mom's release from rehab has been postponed because she continues to battle some kind of viral/bacterial diarrhea.
Monday's speaking engagement at Mississippi Avenue Baptist Church went well. As so often when we use a spiritual gift (teaching/encouragement in my case), we receive more of a blessing than we could possibly offer.