Moses wrote Psalm 90 in a graveyard. Not metaphorically, literally. He was standing in a wilderness filled with the graves of people he had prayed for, led, and loved. A generation whose fear had cost them everything. And from that wilderness, he offered one of the most breathtaking prayers in all of Scripture.
“Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.”
Not a complaint. A declaration.
What strikes me about Moses is not his circumstances, it is his perspective. He was not a man who wasted what God had given him. He numbered his days. He stewarded his calling. And in the final chapter of his life, he climbed a mountain and looked out over the land God had promised, not with regret, but with wonder.
That is the invitation of this month.
For the month of June we are walking through a series called Handle With Care. It is a stewardship series, but not the kind that makes you feel guilty before you even sit down. This is a discipleship series. Because stewardship is discipleship. Everything entrusted to us, our time, our talents, our bodies, our resources, becomes an act of worship when we hold it open-handed before God.
In Exodus 31, God calls a craftsman named Bezalel by name. He fills him with His Spirit. And that Spirit perfects what was already in Bezalel; wisdom, skill, and knowledge, and channels it into something that would become the dwelling place of God among His people. The Tabernacle.
God did not call Bezalel because he was the most qualified. He called him because He had already placed something in him. The Spirit did not create something new, it made fully alive what was already there.
That is what God does with each of us.
You have been called by name. You have been filled with the same Spirit. The question is not whether God has placed something in your hands. He has. The question is what you are going to do with it.
This summer, TC3 is also in the middle of something. The lawn is being built. New kids’ classrooms are coming. The campus is becoming what we have prayed and believed it would become, a place open seven days a week, where the Treasure Coast can always find that there is room.
When you give, you make room. When you serve, you make room. When you show up on a Tuesday and bring a neighbor on a Sunday, you make room. For the coach driving past at his lowest moment. For the family that just moved here and does not know a single person. For the teenager who is not sure faith is real but cannot stop thinking about it.
750,000 people live on the Treasure Coast. And I believe with everything in me that a fully surrendered congregation can change the trajectory of this coast, not someday, but now.
Moses ended Psalm 90 with a single prayer: “Teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Not more days. Better ones. Days that are intentional, surrendered, and fully alive.
That is the invitation this June. Not to a program. Not to a pledge card. But to the ancient, Spirit-fueled, Bezalel kind of life, where you pick up what God placed in your hands, open those hands wide, and watch what He builds with it.
The door is open. The lawn is being laid. There is always room at this table.
Scriptural references
Psalm 90:1, Psalm 90:12, Exodus 31:1–5
What Pastor Miles Is Reading This Month
The Second Mountain by David Brooks
In The Second Mountain, David Brooks argues that the most meaningful life isn’t built around personal achievement, it’s built around commitment. The first mountain is the one most of us are climbing: career success, independence, status. The second mountain is something deeper. It’s found when we stop asking “what do I want?” and start asking “what am I needed for?” Brooks profiles people who have given themselves over to a cause, a community, a calling, and found that in losing themselves, they discovered something far richer.
For a month where we’re talking about going near the ones who are far, this book is a timely companion. Foster care isn’t a first-mountain decision. It’s a second-mountain one.
