this side of paradise

In Chapter 34 of Deuteronomy, Moses looked on the promised land from a hill. He died on that hill and never crossed into the land because some years ago, he struck a rock. (Long story.)

It always seemed a rather unfair or simply frustrating end. At times, it seemed like a total rip-off. To lead and beg and plead on behalf of a bunch of grumbling, idol-casting whiners through the desert for 40 years, only to stop short of, to be prevented from actually reaching the destination.

Then I look at all that preceded this. Moses spoke to a burning bush, turned staff into serpent and water into blood, cast plagues, parted the sea, carried tablets (2 sets) written by the fingers of God. He spoke with God as a man would speak with his friend, argued, pleaded, vented, with total freedom and transparency. Not all of it was warm and fuzzy; some parts were downright terrifying. Yet there could be no question that the good parts and the bad all flowed from intimate and extensive interactions with God.

As I converse with friends who are still waiting or coming to terms that they might never enter their promised land -- be it health or wealth, mate or child, the perfect job or the perfect body -- I'm reminded of Moses. Moses who shepherded his people through the desert for 40 years. Moses who struck a rock in error. Moses who didn't complain upon learning that he wouldn't enter the Promised Land. Moses who, in the days between the desert of Midian and the Mountain of Horeb, had gotten more than he could have ever hoped for, much less expected, on this side of Canaan. In contrast to his companions, who could only look forward to what had yet to be provided and barely noticed the waters that parted for their passage or the manna and quails that filled their stomachs, Moses embraced God as both his promise and his land flowing with milk and honey.

It's so tempting to wait to start life, to really live with abandon, with courage, with faith, until after we have grasped the promised land of our own imagination. Once I reach x, then I can relax and focus on the important things.

But why wait? Why risk foregoing the paradise at hand for a mirage in the distance?