As Israel journeyed through the wilderness of the Sinai Peninsula, they were hit with two sides of reality. On one side, they were no longer slaves in Egypt. They were liberated while humiliating their opponents as they left town. After 400 years in bondage, freedom felt like a cold drink of water on a hot muggy day. On the other side, they were a long way from their destination, the Promised Land. Sure it was only a ten day journey, but God had other plans. Their stop off was a two year layover at Mt. Sinai. And as we know, their two year stop turned into 40 years of character building.
Forty years is a longtime to find yourself in the wilderness. You’re not bound to slavery, but you’re not home, either. The wilderness is unbearably hot during the daylight hours with little protection from the sun’s heat. But then when the sun sets the heat escapes the sand and it gets cold, really cold at night. Water is scarce as oasis appear as frequently as a gas station on a highway in the open plains of South Dakota. And then there’s the sand itself. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Not like Canaan where everything is soft and smooth.
We’ve often experienced the wilderness. It’s that in between time. The teenage years define the wilderness as the youth is not a child but not quite an adult. You’ve quit your job but you won’t start your next employment opportunity for another month. By placing the ring on her finger means you’ve redefined the relationship for you’re no longer in a dating relationship, but you’re not married either. Our time on earth holds a wilderness feel to it. We live between Jesus’ appearances on earth. We don’t live at the time of his Incarnation, while we long for him to return and claim his own.
Wilderness time is a needed respite. It’s a time to slow down, recharge the soul’s batteries and refocus our priorities. When Israel entered the wilderness, God needed to take a loosely collected family and begin the process of giving them an identity. More importantly, they needed an identity tied to him. So he led them to Mt. Sinai to give them the Law and to establish his covenant with them.
But the wilderness can wear on you. For Israel, they kept looking back at what they left behind instead of focusing on where they were headed. They glossed over the slavery part of Egypt while fixating on the homes they left and the (bad) food they ate. Instead of anticipating the land flowing of milk and honey and living in homes they would not build, they settled for the past. So consumed with returning to Egypt, they staged a coupe before God intervened (Num. 14).
Most of 2020 has been spent in the wilderness. It’s been difficult, lonely and filled with mixed messages. We’ve left behind a life we knew and a life of familiarity. Since then we’ve been staggering, almost feeling like we’re lost. We want to go back. We want things to return to normal. I miss dinner with friends. I miss sporting events. I miss hugs. I miss a building filled with people in worship and fellowship.
But life is always about moving forward, not stepping back. Life drives us to the future, not to the past. God always leads us to the Promised Land, not to Egypt. What will that be like when we get through this wilderness to reach the Promised Land? I can’t say. Will there be a semblance of the life we’ve left? Maybe. I hope so. But what I know is that we need to hear and see more faith from those like Joshua and Caleb, who trust God to move us into the future with him, who reminds us to trust him too.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)