A Call for Aaron and Hur

I was never meant to be a Moses. In Exodus 17:8-16, the Amalekites attacked God’s people as they trekked through the desert to the Promised Land. The Word says, “As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, (Aaron and Hur) took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up – one on one side, one on the other – so that his hands remained steady till sunset.” In the end, the Israelites were victorious in battle.

We spent this past weekend with our sons and all five of our grandkids (ages 5 to 10) at a lake house. We called our older son as we were driving down to let him know our ETA. He asked if we had heard any news about the flooding in Kerrville or about the Christian girls’ camp where a couple of cabins had been washed away. He and our daughter-in-love have friends in another city whose daughter was at the camp, but she had been accounted for. I hopped onto my phone to read updates, and my heart just broke. Not only were the girls from those cabins missing, but many others who had staked a place on the riverbanks to enjoy a pleasant 4th of July weekend were gone, too. Others in homes or rentals were also nowhere to be found.

By the time we arrived at the lake house, the five grands were out on the dock in their swimsuits and life jackets, jumping into the water, laughing, and just being kids. One by one, they ran up the dock and gave me soaking wet hugs – which I gladly accepted and returned.

I thought about our two grandgirls who had just come home from their first sleepover camps earlier in the summer – and had safely returned. I thought about the lake water and how the kids were enjoying a fun day without fear or worry. I thought about us four grown-ups vigilantly keeping eyes on them, knowing every moment where they were and what they were doing.

We had a great time and did typical lake things with the kids. Their pattern seemed to be swimming, fishing, playing cards, and snacking – and then doing it all over again. A ridiculous number of towels were used. An obscene amount of food was consumed. And too many memories to count were made. The cousins bonded, and we grown-ups took it all in, grateful to God for these crazy, special, amazing little people having the times of their lives.

Knowing that just a few hours down the road, unspeakable grief and devastation were setting in made us especially thankful for the time we had together for those couple of days.

Thank God for the Moses people. You don’t want me to be in charge in a crisis. I’m unable to think clearly or get past my emotions to be any kind of real help. But, friend, if you need an Aaron or a Hur, I’m your gal. I’ll support you. I’ll encourage you. I’ll do everything on that well-organized list you put together. I’ll hold you up when the worst of circumstances threaten to take your breath away. I’m just not a leader in the way of Moses.

So as the “people” stories continue to pour out of Central Texas, no doubt my prayer warrior brothers and sisters are stepping up to be Aaron and Hur to a whole bunch of hurting people today.

Thank God for sending an army of men and women made of the stuff of Moses – courageous folks stepping in to do the difficult work of search and recovery of the lost. Thank God for the volunteers and boots on the ground physically helping the survivors put their lives back together. Thank God for the folks with chainsaws and willing spirits who are tackling debris piles and helping to clear roads and doing what they can to help residents salvage what’s left of their homes and possessions.

Yes, thank God for the Moses people, but just as needed are you and I – Aaron and Hur – to hold up in prayer those who’ve been brought to their knees in this tragic situation. If God gives us opportunity to do anything tangible, may we solemnly respond in obedience.

But alongside that, there’s an endless list of folks who could use an Aaron and a Hur right about now – grieving  parents, grandparents, siblings, and other family members; little campers who’ve witnessed the unimaginable; recovery workers tasked with bringing home the lost to their loved ones; shell-shocked residents wondering where to even begin the clean-up process; utility workers busting their tails to restore normalcy to thousands of homes; quiet volunteers who’ve just shown up to help in any way needed.

May the prayers of the saints lift grieving hearts, haunted minds, and weary bodies to the God Who rushes to embrace, comfort, and heal. This is a time like no other to “mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15) and to pray without ceasing. Aaron, Hur – you are needed now more than ever. Let’s lock arms, hit our knees, and “approach the throne of grace with confidence.” Prayer is powerful. Son and daughter of the king, “who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)