The Shrub That Called Bullshit on Self-Doubt

Moses wasn’t exactly crushing life when this story hits. He wasn’t strutting through the desert like a Marvel hero with a staff. He was hiding out in the wilderness after screwing up his life back in Egypt — now herding sheep for his father-in-law and probably replaying every mistake that got him there. Then one ordinary day, the extraordinary shows up. A random bush explodes into flames but doesn’t burn up, like God lit a torch just to get his attention. And then the bush starts talking. If that happens to you, either run like hell or take your shoes off — Moses chose the second option.

The message is simple: God tells Moses to march back into Egypt and free an entire population from the most powerful ruler on the planet. No big deal, right? But Moses immediately spirals into every insecurity he’s been carrying for decades. “Who am I to do that?” “What if they don’t believe me?” “I’m bad at talking.” “Seriously God, please choose literally anyone else.” He’s arguing with a miracle — a flaming shrub that literally knows his name — but his fear is louder than the fire. God keeps answering every excuse with power and patience: “I’ll be with you,” “I made your mouth,” “Take the staff,” basically pumping Moses up like a divine hype man. Yet Moses still doesn’t think he’s enough. The insecurity reeks so strong God finally says, “Fine. Your brother Aaron can talk. Now go.”

Here’s the stink: Moses wasn’t afraid of Pharaoh — he was afraid of failing. He disguised fear as humility, as if talking himself down would make him more spiritual. But pretending you’re too small for the job isn’t holy — it’s BS. It’s telling God He reached the bottom of the barrel when He chose you. Self-doubt feels humble, but it’s actually pride backhanding God right in the face. You’re saying your weaknesses are stronger than His calling. And that stinks.

But the fertilizer here is genius: God didn’t show up as a palace, a throne, or a neon sign. He used a plain, everyday bush. Something overlooked and ordinary. Just like Moses felt. Just like we feel when we assume we have nothing to offer. The fire didn’t destroy the bush — it revealed what was happening inside it. God sets our insecurities on fire not to burn us down, but to expose the truth: we are capable because He is present. The very thing Moses thought disqualified him became the stage where God’s power would be undeniable.

And here’s the scoop — the part nobody likes: your purpose doesn’t wait for you to feel ready. Moses didn’t choose greatness. Greatness came knocking while he was feeding sheep and trying to forget who he used to be. God didn’t ask Moses if he was comfortable. He didn’t ask if he felt qualified. He simply said: “Go.” And when Moses tried to say no? God didn’t let him. Because purpose doesn’t take orders — purpose gives them. Sometimes the fire shows up in the middle of your doubt to remind you there’s more in you than you’ve allowed yourself to believe.

So if you’ve got a calling — a nudge, a fire, a passion that won’t shut up — stop arguing with burning bushes. Stop telling God He picked the wrong person. Stop waiting until your confidence catches up. Confidence isn’t required for obedience. Moses walked into Egypt still nervous, still unsure — but he walked. And history changed because he finally stopped trying to talk God out of using him. The bullshit of self-doubt will always scream, “Not me.” God responds, “Exactly you.” Step toward the fire anyway. Say yes while your knees are shaking. Because everything you think disqualifies you is often exactly why God chose you in the first place.