Devotional:
A Wilderness Prayer—
Psalm 90 and the Heart of Moses

By Rev. Drew Taylor

"Lord, You have been our dwelling place throughout all generations." — Psalm 90:1

In the Book of Exodus, we encounter the dramatic calling of Moses—a man chosen by God to lead His people out of slavery in Egypt and into the promise of freedom. This journey was not merely geographic; it was deeply spiritual. The wilderness became a crucible of transformation, where the Israelites learned to trust, and Moses learned to lead with humility and dependence.

Psalm 90 is the only psalm attributed to Moses. It stands apart in tone and depth—a solemn reflection shaped by years of wandering, interceding, and witnessing both divine judgment and mercy. As the Israelites moved from bondage toward the Promised Land, Moses lifted his voice in prayer. Not a prayer of triumph, but of perspective. He saw the frailty of human life against the backdrop of God's eternity. He felt the weight of sin and the urgency of grace.

This psalm is not just ancient poetry—it is a wilderness prayer. It speaks to every soul navigating uncertainty, longing for direction, and yearning for God's presence. Moses does not ask for comfort; he asks for wisdom. He does not plead for ease; he seeks the favor of the Lord.

Today, we stand in our own wildernesses—between what was and what will be. And like Moses, we are invited to pray:

"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

"Establish the work of our hands for us—yes, establish the work of our hands."

Turning forty brings with it a curious shift—not just in eyesight, but in insight. The font size of my sermon notes may grow, but so too does our awareness of time's passage. As we age, we begin to notice the subtle recalibrations of body and mind, and we're reminded of Moses' sobering words in Psalm 90: "The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty."

How do we respond to such a statement? For some, it may feel limiting. For others, especially those who have surpassed those numbers, it may feel like a quiet triumph. But Moses isn't simply offering statistics—he's inviting us to reflect on the brevity of life and the urgency of living it well.

The call to "number our days" is not a morbid tallying of time, but a sacred accounting. It's the practice of living intentionally, of recognizing that each day is a gift and an opportunity to grow in wisdom, grace, and purpose. Whether we are forty, eighty, or somewhere in between, the question remains: How will we use the time we've been given?

Prayer:

Lord, teach me to number my days—not with fear, but with faith. Help me to live each moment with intention, to seek wisdom in the ordinary, and to honor You with the time I have. May my life reflect Your grace, and may my years be filled with purpose. Amen.

Challenge:

Today, take a moment to reflect on your age—not as a limitation, but as a lens. What has God taught you in this season of life? What wisdom have you gained? And how might you share that wisdom with someone younger, or live it out more fully in your own walk?

The preceding is an AI-generated summation of a recent sermon by Rev. Drew Taylor. This final version has been reviewed, edited and approved by both Rev. Taylor and the editorial staff at Third Millennium Ministries.