By Way of the Wilderness

by Gilbert, Morris

  ****

  “Moses, we have found water!”

  Moses’ heart leaped at his sister’s cry, and he looked up to see her running toward him, her face radiant.

  “Water!” Moses said, leaping to his feet. “I knew God would provide.”

  Aaron suddenly appeared, his face long and filled with tension. “Come quickly, brother. There’s trouble.”

  “Trouble? I thought we found water.”

  As Moses followed Aaron and Miriam out of his tent through the crowd of people, he trembled at how the people had been crying for water for days. Their animals had been crying piteously out of dried mouths.

  Finally he reached the edge of the crowd, and he heard his name being called, “Moses … Moses, what shall we drink?”

  Moses moved quickly to where the water had been found, and he saw several wells. Korah was there, dipping a gold cup into the water. He took a gulp of it, then spat it out, and thrust the cup at Moses, scowling. “Drink it, Moses! This is not fit for animals. What will you do to feed this multitude?”

  Moses took the cup and tasted it; then he too spat it on the parched ground. The water was undrinkable! He stood there while the cries of the people went on about him, but in his heart he too was crying out to God. As the noise of the crowd seemed to fade away, there came an impulse from inside his spirit. “Is this you speaking, O God?”

  There was no answer, but Moses suddenly knew what to do. He looked around and saw a laurel tree, and with one swift motion he leaped toward it. He pulled off a few of the laurel twigs and thrust them into the well. There was an immediate stirring of the water, and Moses commanded Joshua, “Put the laurel leaves into all the wells.”

  Joshua leaped to obey, and as soon as it was done, Moses, without even tasting the water himself, knew that God had worked another miracle. “Now, take and drink. God has provided, as He always will.”

  Cries of doubt were soon transformed into cries of joy. Like any good shepherd, Moses stood back and waited until everyone else had drunk. Finally Joshua brought him a cup and his face was alight with joy as he said, “Taste, master. It’s the best water I’ve ever had. Almost like wine.”

  Moses took the cup that Joshua handed him and drank from it. When he lowered it, he smiled and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “That which God provides is always good, Joshua.”

  ****

  As the three men came to stand before him, Moses felt a great weariness descend upon him. Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, the self-constituted spokesmen for the rest of the assembly, stood before Moses with a resolute stance. Korah said, “We have to talk to you, Moses.”

  “What is it this time, Korah?” Moses knew that the assembly would have to be reorganized as soon as they had met with God at Sinai. The tribes would all have to be represented, not just a few powerful men who had found their place by devious means. He prepared his mind to listen, although he knew that whatever they had to say to him would not be good.

  “We have come to ask what you intend to do,” Korah said. “We can’t go on like this forever.”

  “Why can’t we?”

  “Why, it’s obvious!” Korah said with astonishment. “We move from disaster to disaster.”

  “God has always provided, hasn’t He?”

  “Well, yes, up till now, but we can’t live day by day waiting for God to give us a miracle.”

  Moses smiled. “Why not?” he asked gently. “You think it’s hard for the Lord to perform a miracle?”

  “That’s not the problem, Moses, and you know it!” Dathan said hotly.

  Korah agreed, nodding vigorously. “We left Egypt prepared only for a three-day festival, and now who knows how long we may be in this wilderness?”

  “You knew all the time we weren’t going back to Egypt. I made that clear,” Moses said mildly.

  Korah was angered by the meekness of Moses. “How are you going to provide for all the needs of the people?”

  “I have no intention of providing for the needs of the people.”

  “You see,” Abiram cried. “I told you! He has no plan at all.”

  “It is the Lord our God who will provide for our needs. He will send water. He will provide food. He is the God of all power. Have you forgotten already how He delivered us from bondage in Egypt? He is all-sufficient.”

  “Well enough to talk like that, but we must be practical!” Korah snapped, his eyes sharp and hard as stone. “We have the right to know what you intend to do.”

  “God has given me a promise,” Moses said calmly, “that He would take us out of Egypt and bring us to a land flowing with milk and honey. He has promised me that we would be His holy people. He has given us the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, and we will follow it faithfully.”

  “Until we die,” Korah said. “When we leave these wells, who knows where the next water will be?”

  “It will be wherever God leads us. He will not let His people starve or die of thirst.”

  The three knew they were dismissed when Moses turned abruptly away.

  “As soon as the people grow thirsty again,” Korah muttered to his two cohorts, “then we will see what this fellow will do.”

  ****

  The worry of water running out was in the minds of many people, but God led the people to Elim, only a half-day’s march ahead from Marah, where the water had been bitter. There, they were ecstatic to find twelve springs of fresh, pure, sweet water and a beautiful oasis of green growing things and palm trees.

  Aaron was almost crying with joy as the people drank and enjoyed the greenery in the middle of the burning desert.

  “Let us stay here, Moses. This is a good place.”

  “This is not the land that our God has promised us,” Moses said.

  “But we are here, and we could have a good life.”

  “No. We could not have a good life here, because we would not be obedient to God.”

  Aaron angrily waved at the burning desert that lay outside of the oasis. “We do not know what lies out there.”

  “No, but God knows, and He is also able to supply all our needs in the wilderness, my dear brother.”

  Moses left Aaron, knowing he had not pacified him. He listened to the people singing and the happy voices as they enjoyed the fresh water and soothing beauty of the oasis, but he knew they would soon turn angry when they had to move on into hardship.

  Moses walked as far away from the camp as he could, until the babble of voices grew dim. There, he threw himself down on his face and began to pray.

  “Almighty God, I cannot bear the weight of this people. Only you are strong enough for that, but I beg you, God, speak to me. Let me know that I am in your will.”

  Moses prayed until he grew faint, but there was not a single word from God.

  Finally he got up and stretched out his arms toward heaven. “I have not heard your voice, almighty Lord, but even if you never speak to me again, I will still love you!”

  As Moses made his way back toward the camp, he found himself filled with amazement. How is it that I love God? I have never heard of people loving God before. The Egyptians are terrified of their gods. If you asked one of them to love Ammon-ra, they’d think you were crazy.

  He looked up into the endless blue sky and an indescribable joy filled him. “I love you, O my God, and I always will. If we all die in the desert, I will love you anyway. I pray that your people will learn to love you like this.”

  As Moses hurried back to the camp, he was filled with joy, yet he knew that his people were still slaves at heart, that they had neither his courage nor his confidence in the God he had heard speaking to him from a burning bush. Again he cried out in prayer. “God, speak to them and help them to love you as I love you!”

  Chapter 15

  “I knew it was a mistake to leave Elim. We should have stayed there. There was plenty of water and feed for the cattle.”

  Bezalel glanced over at Oholiab, who was trudging along beside hi
m. They were out looking for a spring and a little grass for the cattle of Aaron and Miriam.

  “You sound like the mixed multitude, Oholiab—always complaining.”

  “Well, I have a right to complain. We had everything we wanted there in Elim, and we should have stayed.”

  “Aaron says that Moses forbade it.”

  “Moses is always forbidding something,” Oholiab said grumpily. “He’s a great forbidder.”

  “If you can’t do anything but complain, go somewhere else.”

  “Go where? I can’t go back to Egypt. We’ve been traipsing around for a month now in this desert, and you’ve got to admit, Bezalel, it doesn’t look good.”

  Although Bezalel never complained in front of Aaron and Miriam, he felt pretty much the same way that his friend did. During the past several days, the Hebrews had consumed every bit of the food they had brought with them out of Egypt. All was gone now, including the honey, the wine, and the cakes. Some, he knew, had already in desperation begun killing their flocks. This Moses had strictly forbidden, knowing that the flocks were the only source of nourishment for their small children.

  The two young men trudged along and finally found a bit of grass that had been missed by other herdsmen.

  “We’d better get back and bring our flocks over here before someone else finds it,” Bezalel said.

  “Why don’t you go do that? I have business.”

  “You’re not still chasing after that girl from the tribe of Dan, are you?”

  “I’m not chasing her,” Oholiab said with indignation. “She’s chasing me.”

  “All right. Go on. I’ll take care of this.”

  “I’ll see if she has a sister for you.”

  “Never mind that. Just go.”

  Bezalel trudged along under the burning sun. He was weary to the point of exhaustion. The land of milk and honey seemed very far away, and the greatest desire of Bezalel’s heart was to return to Egypt. Yet he knew there was nothing for him there. The pharaoh was dead, and in all probability the nation was in an uproar. He was well aware that the enemies of Egypt knew that the army had been decimated and would very likely be surging over the borders to take advantage of Egypt’s weakness. The new pharaoh would have his hands full.

  “Well,” Bezalel said, “sooner or later we’re going to have to turn back. We’re all going to starve out here in this desolate place!”

  ****

  Moses’ heart was heavily burdened by the plight of his people. He saw himself as the shepherd of the flock, and in desperation he had prayed day after day and night after night for God to give him clear direction. God did not speak directly to Moses, but the pillar of cloud and fire continued to move before the people, leading the way. There was nothing for them to do but wearily pick up their belongings each day and follow the cloud.

  All night long Moses tried to pray, but he could hear the people crying, “Give us food, Moses!” At first Moses had been indignant. “Who am I that I could provide food for this multitude? Don’t they know that it’s the Lord who is the provider, not me?” But his indignation soon passed, and he realized more every day that turning a nation of slaves into a nation of free men and women was not a task that could be accomplished in a month.

  Late one afternoon Aaron came rushing into Moses’ tent, crying out, “Moses, you’ve got to do something!”

  “Do what?” Moses asked wearily. “What can I do?”

  “The people are getting restless. I’m …” Aaron hesitated. “I’m really afraid of what they might do.”

  “What can they do—kill us?”

  Aaron swallowed hard. “I think you’re going to have to talk to them.”

  “All right, I will.”

  Moses rose from his knees, and as soon as he exited his small tent, the cries and the shouting went up. He could hear the weeping of the women and the angry shouts of the men, and soon he found himself surrounded by the people. One tall, rangy individual planted himself in front of Moses and said loudly, “If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.”

  Moses said at once, “It was not I who brought you out of the land of Egypt. It was the Lord God. Have you forgotten His miracles? The parting of the Red Sea? He who brought you out from that bondage will not allow you to die now.”

  “But we’re starving,” a woman cried out, tears running down her face. “My baby has nothing to eat. How is God going to feed us in the desert?”

  In desperation Moses pleaded with them. “We must believe in God. I do not know how He is going to care for us, but I know that He loves us, and He will provide.”

  “When? When will He feed us? I need food now!” The cry went up from the back of the crowd and others took it up.

  Moses held up his hands and said wearily, “I will go pray, but the Lord knows even before I pray that you are hungry. He always knows of His peoples’ troubles, but He will give an answer.”

  Moses turned and trudged wearily back to his tent. He heard the murmuring of the people and was aware that they were only a razor’s edge away from total revolt.

  Entering his tent, he fell on his face, so agitated that he could not even formulate words. His cry was simply, “Help, O God, help!”

  Almost at once the voice that he had grown to love spoke to him: “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions. On the sixth day they are to prepare what they bring in, and that is to be twice as much as they gather on the other days.”

  With joy bubbling over in his heart and tears running down his cheeks, Moses leaped to his feet. He dashed out of the tent and began to shout, “Hear, O people, the Lord God has spoken! In the evening you will know that it was the Lord who brought you out of Egypt, and in the morning you will see the glory of the Lord, because He has heard your grumbling against Him. Who are we, that you should grumble against us? You will know that it was the Lord when He gives you meat to eat in the evening and all the bread you want in the morning, because He has heard your grumbling against Him. Who are we? You are not grumbling against us, but against the Lord.”

  ****

  “Do you really think, Mother, that God will feed all these people?”

  Miriam turned to look at Bezalel, who was sitting beside her in front of their tent. They were both aware of the strange silence that had fallen upon the people. It was eerie and unnatural. There was no sound of voices, of arguments, of complaining. There was not even the sound of the children shouting in play. All was still, and Miriam noted that almost every person she could see had their head turned upward toward heaven.

  “Yes. I believe it shall be as my brother says. God is going to feed us.”

  Bezalel shook his head slightly but said nothing. What kind of miracle could feed hundreds of thousands of people? He had never counted them, but he knew they appeared to be as numerous as the sands on the shore.

  “If the food doesn’t come,” he said, “I’m afraid of what will happen to Moses. The people are desperate.”

  “The food will come,” Miriam said boldly. She turned again to face him and took his hand. “I would that you were a believer in our God, my son. Without that belief, you are nothing.”

  Bezalel could not answer, for he felt the weight of her argument. He was ashamed but could not think of an answer. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes and suddenly said, “Listen, do you hear that?”

  Darkness had almost fallen, and Miriam’s hearing was not as keen as Bezalel’s. “Hear what?”

  Bezalel did not speak for a moment. “It’s … it’s the twittering of birds. Many birds!” He leaped to his feet and said, “Look, Mother! That’s not a cloud up there. Those are birds!”

  Indeed, that which appeared to be a cloud was nothing less than an enormous flock
of birds. A cry went up from the people everywhere, and almost at once several birds plopped down at the feet of Bezalel. He leaped forward, grabbed one that made no attempt to escape, wrung its neck, and tossed it to Miriam. “Clean it, Mother, while I get some more!” he cried. “Look at them all!”

  The camp was filled with quail that had apparently been driven to them by an enormous wind. It required no effort to catch them. They simply fell to the ground, and all that a person had to do was pick them up and wring their necks.

  Soon small fires began to dot the darkness, and the sound of happy voices rang out in the night. Bezalel had saved enough wood to get a fire started, and he roasted the small birds on sticks held over the fire. He, along with Miriam and Aaron, ate like starved wolves.

  “Nothing ever tasted so good!” Miriam said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “You see, Bezalel, it is as the Lord promised Moses. We have meat to eat.”

  “Yes, we do,” Bezalel said, swallowing a huge morsel and reaching out for another bird to roast. “But what about bread? We don’t have ovens. How can we bake bread?”

  “You’re such a doubter,” Aaron said, shaking his head with disdain. “Did you ever see birds come up like this, asking to be killed? It’s all God’s doing, my boy. It’s all of God!”

  “Yes, and the bread will come,” Miriam said. “You will see. God said it would be here in the morning, and when we get up, there will be bread!”

  ****

  Bezalel stuffed himself with roasted quail and slept like a dead man. He awoke to the sound of people shouting. He came up off of his mat and bolted from the tent. Everywhere people were bending over and saying, “Manna?” which meant, “What is it?” Bezalel looked down at the ground and saw that it was covered with small white particles.

  He reached down, picked up a few, and rolled them around in his palm. “What is this, Mother?” he asked.

  “It is the bread from heaven. God has sent it. Taste it, my son, taste it.”

  Bezalel picked up a handful of morsels and tasted them. They were rather brittle, but in his mouth they became moist. “Why, they’re sweet like honey cakes!” he exclaimed.