An ancient sacred story tells how once, a burning bush caused questions of identity to slip off a tongue and fall loose of famous lips.   Personal experience teaches how they slip and fall equally well before a burning candle in spiritual direction.

Moses began his asking (or better to say, his un-masking) with this one:

Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?

Yet to realize Moses posed his questions at the ripe age of eighty makes me long to shake my head — as if to say, “Oh, Moses, Moses — when will you ever learn — when will you learn not to throw up such  ineffective smoke screens before God?”   And perhaps I would.  But for a real fear I may still be asking questions like his myself.  When I’m eighty-one.

Connecting the two question-mark dots, Moses to my own, makes me wonder:  Is it possible questions of identity ripen best on holy ground?