WHAT IS IN YOUR HAND?

With Only a Staff and a Stammer...

MOSES a man chosen from birth to serve, lead and walk with God...

This week i dove back into a statement that means much to me and a ministry I was invested in for many years...

"WHAT IS IN YOUR HAND"

but for full depth of these words we need to look at firstly the man they were spoken to and the God who spoke them....

Moses...

He did not walk into Egypt as the kind of man you would choose.

No polished voice.

No commanding presence that bent rooms to silence.

No weapon forged for war.

Just a man who had spent more years in the wilderness than in the courts…

a man who had once burned hot with impulse, failed hard, and fled far…

a man now weathered, slower of speech, carrying the dust of obscurity on his shoulders.

And in his hand—nothing more than a staff.

A shepherd’s rod.

Worn smooth by time.

Ordinary. Familiar. Forgettable.

The kind of thing a man holds every day and never thinks twice about.

Yet when the call came, it did not arrive with upgrades.

No exchange. No elevation of tools. No sudden transformation into something else.

Just a question that cut through every excuse and laid the man bare:

“What is in your hand?”

Not,

what do you wish you had?

Not,

what are you lacking?

Not,

what would make you finally ready?

What. Is. In. Your. Hand.

And there it was—

the same staff he had carried in silence,

in routine,

in a life that felt far removed from purpose.

God did not dismiss it.

He claimed it.

Because heaven does not wait for the extraordinary—it lays hold of the surrendered.

And something shifted.

Not in the staff…

but in the man who held it.

The wood did not change its substance.

But it changed its assignment.

What once guided sheep would now confront kings.

What once leaned on dusty ground would be lifted over seas.

What once marked the quiet rhythm of a shepherd’s life would now strike rock and release provision.

The same staff—

but no longer just his.

And the stammer?

It remained.

Still there.

Still real.

Still something he would rather have left behind.

But it, too, was taken up into the purpose of God.

Because the power was never going to be in his voice.

It would be in his obedience.

And so the man who thought himself disqualified became the one through whom nations would be shaken…

not because he was remade into something unrecognisable,

but because what he already carried was finally placed in the right hands.

There’s a lie men cling to, I have... quiet but stubborn:

If I had more,

I would do more.

If I were sharper…

stronger…

clearer…

then I would step forward.

But that’s not how the call comes.

It comes standing in front of you, asking about what you already grip without thinking.

🫟Your work.

🫟Your strength.

🫟Your scars.

🫟Your voice—even if it shakes.

Not something distant.

Not something idealised.

Something present.

Something now.

God is not building men out of what they wish they were

He is forging purpose through what they have already been given.

The staff of Moses did not become powerful because of what it was.

It became powerful because it was no longer his alone.

And that is where most men hesitate

not at the edge of calling,

but at the point of release.

To open the hand.

To let what is familiar become consecrated.

To allow the ordinary to be claimed for something far greater than comfort or control.

But that is the place where everything changes.

The place where a shepherd’s tool becomes a sign.

Where weakness becomes a channel.

Where a man stops waiting…

and starts walking.

So the question still stands, unchanged and unsoftened:

What is in your hand?

Because that not the thing you’re chasing,

not the thing you think you lack

that is exactly what God intends to use.

Badger out 🦡