Day 84 — Holiness and Hearing
When God Stops Being Silent
However you can engage today, we’re here. Read, listen or both.
The written portion gives an overview, with verses broken down into smaller bites, and journaling/prayer prompts for reflection. In the podcast, Steve Traylor reflects on today’s passage with Scripture reading, a deeper pastoral teaching, and prayer (about 15 minutes). Perfect for morning coffee, commutes, or when your eyes need a rest.
📖 Resources: Printable Bible Book Guides (Genesis & Job) · Through the Wilderness: A Lenten Prayer Guide · Hard Questions, Honest Answers
Exodus 3
Take a breath. This is a passage worth slowing down for.
Yesterday we watched the deliverer fail. Moses tried to rescue his people through his own strength—and ended up an exile, a fugitive, a shepherd on the far edge of a wilderness that was not his home. He named his son Gershom: the stranger. Forty years passed. Israel groaned under chains. God heard, remembered, saw, and knew—but He had not yet spoken a word aloud. The silence held.
Today the silence breaks. Not with thunder or armies. At a single burning bush on the far edge of the wilderness—one ordinary man, one curious flame, and the voice of the God who has been present all along and has now decided to make Himself known.
I AM.
Today we see a God who has not been absent—who has been seeing, hearing, knowing—and who now opens His mouth and says the name that changes everything.
1. Curious and Called
Exodus 3:1-6
Now Moses was keeping the flock of Jethro, his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the back of the wilderness, and came to God’s mountain, to Horeb. 2 Yahweh’s angel appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the middle of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed. 3 Moses said, “I will go now, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burned.”
4 When Yahweh saw that he came over to see, God called to him out of the middle of the bush, and said, “Moses! Moses!”
He said, “Here I am.”
5 He said, “Don’t come close. Take off your sandals, for the place you are standing on is holy ground.” 6 Moreover he said, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”
Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God.
Moses was doing exactly what he did every day. Tending sheep. Following the flock to wherever the grazing was. Nothing remarkable. No spiritual preparation. No ritual. Just an ordinary morning in the wilderness—until the morning became something else entirely.
The fire that appeared in the bush was not the strange part. Brush fires in the Sinai desert were not unusual. What stopped Moses was that the bush kept burning. And did not burn up. It was the persistence of the flame, the refusal to consume, that made him turn aside. He came close to see.
God sovereignly drew Moses’ attention through the burning bush—and when Moses turned aside, the Lord spoke. The text says precisely this: “when Yahweh saw that he came over to see, God called.” He draws us toward Himself, and when we turn, He speaks.
The command to remove sandals was a gesture of reverence before the holy God. The ground was not inherently sacred—God’s presence made it so. Where the LORD stands becomes holy ground. For Moses, the command was a reorientation: here, barefoot at the foot of this mountain, he stood not as a prince, not as a fugitive, but simply as a man in the presence of the holy God of his fathers.
And then the fire spoke his name. Moses. Moses. Not “Hebrew slave.” Not “failed deliverer.” Not “shepherd.” His name. Twice—the doubling in Hebrew a signal of intimacy and urgency both. God knew who he was. God had always known.
Journaling/Prayer: Is there a moment lately where the Lord used circumstances to draw your attention—something you almost walked past? What would it mean to stop and see?
If you’re in a season where God feels silent or absent, sit with the image of Moses tending sheep on an ordinary morning. He was not seeking God. The encounter came to him. If God could interrupt an ordinary desert morning with a burning bush, He is not limited by your readiness or your spiritual condition. Simply say: Here I am. That is enough.
If even that feels like too much, know that Moses hid his face in fear—and the fire kept burning. You don’t have to approach perfectly. God keeps burning.
2. Seen and Sent
Exodus 3:7-12
7 Yahweh said, “I have surely seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters, for I know their sorrows. 8 I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and large land, to a land flowing with milk and honey; to the place of the Canaanite, the Hittite, the Amorite, the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite. 9 Now, behold, the cry of the children of Israel has come to me. Moreover I have seen the oppression with which the Egyptians oppress them. 10 Come now therefore, and I will send you to Pharaoh, that you may bring my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt.”
11 Moses said to God, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?”
12 He said, “Certainly I will be with you. This will be the token to you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.”
Four verbs. Count them with care: I have seen. I have heard. I know. I have come down.
Yesterday, at the end of Exodus 2, we were given four verbs that told us God was paying attention: heard, remembered, saw, knew. Today those verbs move from attention to action. God does not stop at seeing and hearing—He comes down. This is the pivot on which the entire Exodus turns. Not Israel’s strength. Not Moses’ courage. The decisive movement is God’s: I have come down to deliver them.
The God who describes Himself here has been watching, listening, and tracking the sorrow of His people with personal, specific attention. He does not say “I have generally observed suffering.” He says I know their sorrows—the Hebrew makobim carries the weight of physical pain, grief, and anguish. This is not distant, abstract divine awareness. It is the knowing of someone who has been present in every moment of every person’s suffering, holding it all.
Then comes the commission: I will send you. Not “go in your own strength.” Not “you are capable of this.” I will send you—the initiative, the authority, the empowering all in the one phrase. Moses is the instrument. The sending is God’s.
And Moses’ first response is exactly what many of us would say: Who am I?
God’s answer to “Who am I?” is not “You are enough.” God’s answer is “I will be with you.” Moses brings his inadequacy to God and receives back not reassurance about his own abilities but the promise of God’s presence. That presence is the only sufficiency there is.
Journaling/Prayer: Where do you feel inadequate right now—in a responsibility you’re carrying, a relationship you’re trying to hold together, a season you’re enduring? Bring that specific inadequacy to God.
Then receive the answer: not you are enough, but I will be with you. Let those words sit with you today, not as a slogan but as a promise with the weight of the burning bush behind it. The same God who came down to deliver Israel is with you. Not because you are capable. Because He has said so.
If this promise feels hollow right now—if God’s presence feels more like theology than lived reality—remember: Moses kept asking questions. The questions did not end the conversation. God kept speaking.
3. The Name Above All Names
Exodus 3:13-15
13 Moses said to God, “Behold, when I come to the children of Israel, and tell them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what should I tell them?”
14 God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM,” and he said, “You shall tell the children of Israel this: ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” 15 God said moreover to Moses, “You shall tell the children of Israel this, ‘Yahweh, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever, and this is my memorial to all generations.
Moses asks a question that looks like practicality but is really theology: What is Your name? He is not simply asking for a handle. In the ancient world, a name carried the nature of the one who bore it. To ask God’s name was to ask: Who are You, really? What can I count on You to be?
The answer God gives is the most complete answer possible. Ehyeh asher ehyeh. In Hebrew: I AM WHO I AM. The verb hayah—to be, to exist—runs through the whole phrase. God is not defined by anything outside Himself. He simply is—uncreated, self-existent, eternally present tense.
This is not evasion. He is not one item in a list of gods that could be compared and evaluated. The name I AM is not just a title. It is a declaration that God cannot be absent, cannot be diminished, and cannot be replaced.
For Moses to tell Israel I AM has sent me was to tell them: the One who is everything, who cannot not exist, who is bound by nothing outside Himself—He has turned His attention to your chains. That is why the Israelites will bow their heads in worship when they hear it (Exodus 4:31). They do not bow because they are suddenly certain everything will be fine. They bow because the eternal, self-existent God—the One Who Is—has noticed them.
Jesus knew exactly what He was doing in John 8:58 when He said to the religious leaders: “Before Abraham was, I AM.” They picked up stones. They knew exactly who He was claiming to be—the I AM who had spoken to Moses from the fire.
Journaling/Prayer: What does it change about your situation today that God’s name is not “I was” or “I will be” but simply “I AM”—eternally, undiminishingly present?
You don’t have to resolve this philosophically. Simply sit with it. The God who declared His name at this burning bush is present at this exact moment in your life. I AM is not a seasonal statement. It is eternal.
4. The Mission Detailed
Exodus 3:16-22
16 Go and gather the elders of Israel together, and tell them, ‘Yahweh, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, has appeared to me, saying, “I have surely visited you, and seen that which is done to you in Egypt. 17 I have said, I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt to the land of the Canaanite, the Hittite, the Amorite, the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite, to a land flowing with milk and honey.”’ 18 They will listen to your voice. You shall come, you and the elders of Israel, to the king of Egypt, and you shall tell him, ‘Yahweh, the God of the Hebrews, has met with us. Now please let us go three days’ journey into the wilderness, that we may sacrifice to Yahweh, our God.’ 19 I know that the king of Egypt won’t give you permission to go, no, not by a mighty hand. 20 I will reach out my hand and strike Egypt with all my wonders which I will do among them, and after that he will let you go. 21 I will give this people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, and it will happen that when you go, you shall not go empty-handed. 22 But every woman shall ask of her neighbor, and of her who visits her house, jewels of silver, jewels of gold, and clothing. You shall put them on your sons, and on your daughters. You shall plunder the Egyptians.”
God already knows the opposition. He already knows the cost. He goes in with eyes fully open. He gives Moses a complete briefing before Moses takes a single step: what to say, what the elders will do, what Pharaoh will do, what God will do in response, and what Israel will receive when they leave. He is equipping Moses for the long road, not just the first step.
The foreknowledge of Pharaoh’s refusal is sometimes read as determinism—as though God is scripting a villain. But the text is careful. God says I know that Pharaoh will refuse—God ordains the whole event, and Pharaoh remains fully morally responsible for his own hardness. God does not harden Pharaoh’s heart here (that comes later). He simply knows what Pharaoh will choose, and His sovereign purposes will be accomplished through that choice, not despite it.
The detail that Israel will leave with silver, gold, and clothing is not an afterthought. It is the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis 15:14—four hundred years earlier. What God has promised, He will deliver—including the parts that took longer than you imagined.
Journaling/Prayer: Where do you need to trust that God already knows the opposition you’re facing—and has already planned what He will do through it?
If you’re facing something that looks immovable, think of Pharaoh. God knew. God planned. God moved. The immovable thing moved. Not because Moses was powerful—because the I AM sent him. You are not navigating your resistance alone.
If you can’t get there yet, simply bring the name of the thing you’re facing and say: I know You see this. I trust You with it.
Summary
In a single encounter at a desert bush, God reveals His holiness (holy ground), His compassion (I have seen, heard, known), His initiative (I have come down), His name (I AM WHO I AM), His covenant faithfulness (the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob), and His sovereign foreknowledge of everything about to unfold.
The God who says “I will be with you” is not promising a smooth road. He is promising a road on which He walks beside you.
He is the I AM—present tense, always. And when He speaks, even a desert bush is holy ground.
Action / Attitude for Today
Carry one of the four divine verbs from Exodus 3:7 with you into today: seen, heard, known, come down. Choose whichever word your soul most needs.
If you can, write it on a piece of paper and keep it where you’ll see it today. When the weight of your circumstances presses in, return to that word. God is not unaware of what you are carrying. He sees. He hears. He knows. And He is not passively watching—He comes down.
If you are able, take five minutes today to pray the following: “Lord, I bring You the place in my life where I have been wondering if You are absent. I believe from Your Word that You see, You hear, You know, and You come down. I may not see the burning bush yet. But I receive by faith that You have never looked away. I am here. I am listening. Speak, Lord—Your servant is turning aside to hear.”
If five minutes is too much, choose one word from that prayer. You are not absent. Repeat it as many times as you need to.
And wherever you are today—whether you feel close to God or very far—know this: you are standing on holy ground. Not because of how you feel. Because of who is with you.
The Bible for the Broken is published by Aurion Press LLC. © Aurion Press LLC. All rights reserved.