I Just Need to Know You’re There

But if you are afraid to go down, go down to the camp with Purah your servant. And you shall hear what they say, and afterward your hands shall be strengthened to go down against the camp. Judges 7:10-11

When my son was a newborn, we found great joy in rocking him to sleep every night. It was a wonderful experience, but we inadvertently taught him to fall asleep only in our arms. When his sister was born a few short months later and we needed him to fall asleep in his crib, he resisted. To teach him to fall asleep in his crib, I spent many nights on the floor in his room, just letting him know I was there. I would think he was asleep and start to get up, and he’d wake up, lift his head to look for me, and then when he found me, fall right back asleep. He just needed to know I was there, and all was well. As his father, it was my job to reassure him of my presence.

I just need to know you’re there. This was Gideon’s need in today’s passage. In the story, God commanded Gideon to attack the Midianites, who numbered in the thousands, with only 300 men. God sensed Gideon’s anxiety and told him to sneak down to the enemy camp and eavesdrop. When Gideon did so, he overheard two of the enemy soldiers speaking fearfully of Gideon and Israel’s army, knowing that God was on their side. Comforted by God, Gideon was emboldened to obey, defeating the Midian hoard. God knew that Gideon was anxious about the coming battle. In response, God comforted Gideon. I’m here. I am with you. Gideon wanted to follow God, but he needed to be reassured that he was there.

In reading the story, I’ve been struck by how often Gideon required reassurance. Multiple times, God told him to do a thing and multiple times, Gideon’s faith wavered. In these moments, God didn’t chastise Gideon. Instead, God comforted him, letting him know he was there.

I just need to know you’re there. I’ve been there, asking God to make his presence real in my life. In the disaster of my addiction, I felt terribly alone. I knew the only way out was to follow God, but still, I was profoundly anxious about my future. I need to know you’re there. It was in my intense anxiety, when I’d lost everything, that I began to learn faith and to truly feel God’s presence in my life. I became that infant in the crib, lifting my head, looking for my heavenly father. To this, he said, It’s OK. I’m here. I am with you.