welcome to the wilderness
how’d i get here and what do i do about it?
No one warns you it’s coming. There is no pattern to watch for or emergency alert system. You didn’t miss the Sunday school lesson, Theology 101 course to prepare you. But undoubtedly, at some point in your life, you have woken up and realized you were wandering in a wilderness. And it is likely not a solitary moment in your history, but a place you might revisit, and often.
Heroes and heroines, the Bible’s “famed” personas even experienced wilderness seasons. Most obviously, we read the story of the Israelites wandering the wilderness in Exodus. It is safe to assume Joseph would’ve described his journey to an Egyptian palace as wandering through a wilderness. Moses as a shepherd, David as a shepherd. Noah building an ark. Sarah in her barrenness, Hannah in her barrenness. Esther in exile. And that’s just in the beginning of the book.
So how do we identify and define this season? The dictionary would define wilderness as an uncultivated, uninhabited, and inhospitable region; a neglected or abandoned area of a garden or town; a position of disfavor. The wilderness is the rocky, challenging, difficult, unexpected moments of life. It’s the “things aren’t going the way they should, God, are you even there, what am I even doing here, I can bear no more” cries of our hearts. It is often lonely, painful, relentless, overwhelming, uncertain, confusing. It feels like looking for a light at the end of the tunnel while wearing a blindfold.
And the pit will seem much deeper and the journey more arduous and confusing when we forget the counter-culture reality of the Kingdom of God. As Americans, it is easy for us to lose sight of God’s goodness in the face of despair, disappointment, or dilemma. We live in a culture that strives to make life as effortless, convenient, and ‘easy street’ as possible. That makes difficult seem so much more difficult. Hardship is seen as a punishment, fault, or shortcoming. But we must remember: God never promises to make life easy; He promises to face it with us. Deuteronomy 31:6 NLT says: “So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” The promise is not that God will remove hardship from our lives, but that He will be there in spite of it.
“...the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.”
So if we are bound to end up in a wilderness at some point, how do we reconcile that with a God who is a good Father? How can a barren place be part of “plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11)? How do I come to the acceptance that my obedience may have led me to this place? In response to these questions, I want to challenge you to evaluate your perspective by thinking through some things:
A wilderness is a context for miracles and provision. The only time in Scripture we see manna from Heaven or water brought from rocks is the wilderness. Don’t underestimate the canvas upon which God can work.
A wilderness is a mechanism for purification and transformation. The Israelites had to rediscover who God was. They had to be freed from slavery mindset. Changes in position often lead to the greatest changes in perspective.
A wilderness is only a barren place if you keep your perspective on what it lacks. Instead, you can be reminded of God’s omnipresence, even in lonely or foreign places. “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your Spirit?” (Psalm 139:7) Not even the wilderness!
A wilderness is only a barren place if you keep your perspective on what it lacks.
In 2019, my husband and I felt God prompt us that our lives would be changing. After 15 years in ministry, it was a broad conclusion with no clear direction. Though excited, we didn’t know what it meant. And we entered a wilderness - lots of questions, uncertainties, closed doors, digging, searching, longing, dreaming. In 2022, we finally knew where we were going, stepped out in obedience, and walked into… another wilderness. Another season of uncertainty, questioning, longing, waiting. In all honesty, it has been easier to perceive God’s distance as rejection, His silence as disappointment. But we are constantly reminded that God will always place us in positions to live by faith because without faith it is impossible to please Him (Hebrews 11:6).
Trees that survive seasons of drought do so because of the work done in seasons of abundance. Digging deep roots, even when the water is abundant, gives trees access to deep, underground water sources that are necessary when the rain is rare. In a similar way, we all want to be a piece of pottery that is found to be beautiful, valuable, and useful. But that requires patience in the Potter’s hand (Jeremiah 18). It is in the hands of the Potter that the clay exhibits the greatest potential. Before that, it is simply a ball of moldable material. At its conclusion, it has taken on a new form altogether. But clay is never more “clay-like” than when it is being worked over. And, likewise, the potter is most fulfilled in their gifting when united with the clay. It is the union of the two in shared purpose that both are fully realized, fully valued, fully known.
Clay is never more “clay-like” than when it is being worked over.
Whether you are entering a wilderness, exiting one, or wandering one, my prayer is that your heart is reminded that God is near and present. He sees you where you are and walks with you. His provision will be timely and nutritious, even if it doesn’t satisfy what you feel you crave. One of God’s greatest abilities is to make good of a bad situation. If you are willing to trust Him, what He can do in the wilderness will make the journey worth it, and the Promised Land all the sweeter.
God, I pray for my sisters today. I pray they would follow where you lead, even if the destination is unclear. True reliance requires faith and builds faith. May our hearts become dependent on who you have proven yourself to be, not on what we see or where we are. Bring peace, comfort, and wholeness to each wandering heart. Amen
