A Step in the Dark

Gideon was hiding in a winepress, threshing wheat. Normally, wheat was threshed out in the open, up where the wind could blow away the chaff. But Gideon wasn't out in the open. He was down in a low, enclosed place, trying to keep the Midianites from finding what little grain he had. There was no breeze to help separate the wheat from the chaff, just dust, sweat, and the constant glance over his shoulder.

When the angel of the Lord appeared, he greeted Gideon with these words: “The Lord is with you, O mighty man of valor.” (Judges 6:12, ESV)

Gideon didn't seem to recognize himself in that description. Instead, he asked:
“If the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us?” (Judges 6:13, ESV)

I've asked that question, too. I've had nights when I couldn't make sense of what was happening, when I didn't know what to do with the distance between what I believed about God and what I was seeing around me.

I wonder how many of us know that feeling. Maybe it's another dry summer, a tough calving season, or simply the weight of showing up every day and doing what needs to be done when you're not sure how much longer you can keep doing it.

Sometimes God doesn't explain what's happening. Instead, He promises that He will be with us, and calls us to go.

God gives Gideon an assignment: “Go in this might of yours and save Israel from the hand of Midian; do not I send you?” (Judges 6:14, ESV)

What “might” is God talking about? I think we need to look back at verse 12. Before Gideon ever does anything courageous, God calls him a “mighty man of valor.” Gideon doesn't see himself that way. He's still hiding. But God calls him by a name he can't yet recognize, then calls him to live into it.

Gideon isn't convinced. His answer is essentially that God must have the wrong guy. His clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and he's the least in his father's house. This past Sunday at Black Hills Cowboy Church, Brian Mills shared a story about being a young boy sent by his dad to gather cattle, with a long list of gates to open and ridges to push. It was a job that felt far bigger than he was. I imagine Gideon understood that feeling.

But notice the question God asks: “Do not I send you?” Gideon's confidence isn't supposed to come from his family standing, his experience, or his own assessment of what he's capable of. It comes from the One who is sending him.

God doesn't back away from the assignment. He doesn't tell Gideon to believe in himself or pretend he has no reason to be afraid. He says, “But I will be with you” (Judges 6:16, ESV).

He isn't asking Gideon to do this by sheer determination, and He isn't asking him to sit back while God does everything. God is calling Gideon to respond, and His grace will make that response possible. Gideon will have to leave the winepress, but he'll walk out with God.

Nearly 3,000 years after Gideon, another man came to the end of a long life with a simple declaration of faith. John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, was 87 years old. His voice was failing, and the people around him struggled to understand his words. But he summoned what strength he had left and said, “The best of all is, God is with us.” Then he lifted his arm and said the words again.

When I came across those words from Wesley, something about them stopped me. Not because he had figured out every mystery or because his life had been free of hardship. But because he understood something I think takes a lifetime to learn: God's presence is better than having all the answers.

Wesley certainly didn't spend his life sitting still. He preached, traveled, organized, and kept going even when the work was difficult. Yet, near the end of his life, he didn't point to all he had accomplished. He pointed to the presence of God.

I have to remind myself of that when life feels out of control. I can get caught up in trying to hold things together and make sure they turn out the way I think they should. But I was never the one holding it all together. When I look back, I can see God's hand in circumstances I couldn't manage or understand at the time. He was at work even when I couldn't see how things would unfold.

Remembering His faithfulness helps me face what lies ahead. I don't have to control the outcome to take the next step. I can rest in His character, do the work He's put in front of me, and leave the results in His hands.

Gideon didn't go straight from the winepress to the battlefield. His first assignment was much closer to home. God told him to tear down his father's altar to Baal and cut down the Asherah pole beside it. Gideon obeyed, but he did it at night because he was afraid of his family and the men of the town. (Judges 6:25–27)

I love that detail. He hadn't suddenly become a fearless warrior. He obeyed while he was still afraid. He left the winepress, even if his first step was taken in the dark.

Maybe that's what walking out of the winepress looks like for us, too. It doesn't always mean our circumstances suddenly change or that we finally understand why things have happened. It could mean asking for help, having a conversation we've been avoiding, taking on a responsibility that feels bigger than we are, or simply getting up tomorrow and faithfully doing the work that's waiting for us.

We may not have answers to all our questions. We may not know how the story will unfold. But we can take the next step, knowing God goes with us.

John Wesley's words weren't an explanation for everything he'd experienced. They were a declaration of what mattered most, a truth he carried to his last breath.

The best of all is, God is with us.


This Week
What is one thing you've been putting off because you don't feel ready? Maybe you've been waiting for more confidence, a clearer plan, or just the right moment. Name that thing in prayer this week. Remember God's words to Gideon: “But I will be with you.” Then choose one small, specific step you can take before the week is over. You don't have to feel ready. Gideon wasn't.


Prayer
Lord,
We have asked the same questions Gideon asked. There are times when we don't understand what is happening or why things have turned out the way they have. Thank you for meeting us in those questions and promising us that you are with us.

Thank you for seeing more in us than we sometimes see in ourselves. Help us trust your character when we can't see the whole picture. Give us willing hearts to take the next step, even when we're still afraid. Help us remember that we don't have to hold everything together because you are faithful and you are at work.

May we live this week trusting that the best of all is still true: you are with us.
Amen.