For a little while this morning, I want you to stand with me before a burning bush.

I want you to feel the heat of the flame that does not consume. I want you to hear the voice of God calling your name the way He called Moses. Because when I read that account in Exodus, I don’t just see Moses’ story—I see mine. And I see yours.

Moses had been gone from Egypt for forty years. Forty years in the wilderness. Forty years away from the palace. And then God shows up and says, “I am sending you.”

And what does Moses do?

He makes excuses.

If I’m honest, I’ve done the same.

The first excuse Moses gives is this: “When they ask me who sent me, what shall I say?” In other words, “What if I don’t have the right answers?”

I hear that today. “What if someone asks me a question about the Bible and I don’t know what to say?” But God didn’t leave Moses empty-handed, and He hasn’t left me that way either. Peter tells me to sanctify the Lord in my heart and always be ready to give a defense, to give a reason for the hope that is in me, with meekness and fear.

That means I must prepare. I must study. I must trust that God’s Word is enough.

The second excuse: “What if they don’t believe me?”

Isn’t that real? “What if they think I’m foolish? What if they reject me?”

God told Moses, “What is in your hand?” A rod. And God turned that rod into a serpent and back again. He showed Moses that the power was not in the messenger, but in God.

Paul said in Romans 1:16 that the gospel is the power of God unto salvation. Not my personality. Not my eloquence. Not my persuasion. The gospel.

Some will not believe. That’s true. But that is never an excuse for my silence.

The third excuse: “I am not eloquent… I am slow of speech.”

Moses said, “I don’t have the ability.”

I understand that. I’ve felt that. Standing before people, feeling nervous, aware of my limitations. But fear does not disqualify me. Paul told the Corinthians he did not come with excellence of speech or wisdom. Yet God used him mightily.

Acts 7 says Moses was mighty in words and deeds. Perhaps what he lacked wasn’t ability, but confidence.

And I’ve learned this: God does not call the qualified. He qualifies the called.

The fourth excuse might be the most honest of all: “Lord, please send someone else.”

Just don’t send me.

How many times has that been my quiet prayer? “Someone else can teach that class. Someone else can knock that door. Someone else can speak up. Someone else is more talented.”

But God has given each of us talents. Different abilities. Different strengths. I may not preach like someone with a photographic memory. I may not teach like someone else. But I carry the same gospel. And that gospel is enough.

Excuses often sound reasonable, but at their core, they can hide a reluctant heart.

So I ask myself, and I ask you, what excuse am I offering God?

Is it busyness? Is it fear? Is it insecurity? Is it a distraction? Even something as simple as choosing entertainment over worship?

God did not accept Moses’ excuses. And He will not accept mine.

Instead, He calls me to obedience.

If I am not yet His child, I must hear the gospel. I must believe that Jesus is the Son of God. I must repent, change my mind, and change my life. I must confess Him openly. I must be baptized, immersed in water for the remission of my sins.

But it doesn’t end there.

After baptism comes faithfulness. Because I will stumble. I will fall short. But when I do, I can pray. I can repent again. I can rise again.

The question is not whether God has called.

The question is whether I will answer.

So this morning, I’m standing before that burning bush again. I hear Him say, “Go.” And I must decide whether I will obey or offer another excuse.

What about you?