Most people can probably picture baby Moses in their minds, tucked in a basket floating in some reeds or elderly Moses, staff in hand, with the wind blowing his white scraggly hair.   Maybe it’s harder to picture young-man-Moses, just married, out in the wilderness, herding sheep, a long way from home.

He turns and sees a bush that appears to be on fire, but not burning up, and instead of running away, he goes closer.

I’ve been thinking this week about God appearing in a bush that was burning but not burning up. Is the detail of it not being consumed important, or is it just to point out that it wasn’t a normal fire? Normal fires consume things.

Then I remembered other stories in the Bible about things not being used up – bottomless jugs of wine at a wedding, jars of oil and flour for making bread that don’t go empty. Both of these ‘not consumed’ stories are about blessing and life and courageous faith.

In my life, what do I know that isn’t being used up? As a consumer, most of my things are being consumed, bit by bit. Which are the things that last?

Last week as I was starting to get ready for a weekend away with some young people, I wasn’t sure where the inspiration to make it happen was going to come from. But then, as I started to put things together, the spark and the joy seemed to bubble up inside. On the weekend itself, I had a sense of being completely contented to be with everyone in that place. I’d thought that I was empty, but discovered that I was full.

It reminded me that a lot of things about God never run out: grace, gifts, forgiveness, second chances. God’s fire isn’t just like a normal fire. Neither is God’s wine or God’s bread or God’s love.