Never Waste Your Wilderness

When you study the lives of those who have been used by God, one thing quickly becomes glaringly apparent. Every one of them endures some kind of wilderness experience. Abraham begins the story by leaving his home and wandering the land of Canaan. Moses lives for forty years keeping sheep for his father in law in the same wilderness where he will one day lead Israel as they journey from Egypt. David lives in the hills trying to keep away from Saul and Elijah lived so deeply in the wilderness he was hard to find. John the Baptist ate honey and locust as he lived near the Jordan River – but not so near that you didn’t have to look to find him. Jesus spent forty days in the wilderness and Paul spent several years in the desert trying to figure out what happened to him on the road to Damascus. John was exiled to Patmos. You get the picture.

The wilderness may be the place where the world sends you when they are tired of hearing from you, but the wilderness is also the place God brings you when He wants your full attention.

Martin Luther hid in the Wartburg Castle. Martin Luther King did time in a Birmingham jail. John Wesley failed in Georgia. The stories go on and on. There are no exceptions. Before God will use us, He takes us to the wilderness.

The wilderness is the place of silence and solitude. God may bring us there after a catastrophic failure to heal, learn and find our courage again. On the other hand, the wilderness may follow a life-changing victory and God will pull us away to prepare us for the next assignment. In the wilderness moment, God will strip away everything we’ve depended on. He will take away everything we trust to make us successful. In the wilderness, it’s just God and you.

In our dopamine craving world, where we feel like we have to have a constant stream of stimulation, trying to find a place to be quiet and still takes some effort. This is why most of us miss God’s call to the wilderness. Our culture quickly diagnoses our spiritual homesickness for depression or loneliness. Then, from their inaccurate diagnosis they offer an inaccurate prescription. The world will suggest we go out with our friends or download a new app. Perhaps we could stay longer at work or share one more glass of our favorite drink.

What we need is to sit still long enough to get past the momentary emotional storms we deal with every day – small fits of anger, a lingering grudge, disappointment and jealousy to the quiet sanctuary within each of us where only God speaks. In these moments, God will remind us who He is and who we are. He will tell of things that break His heart and call you to join Him in His work.

We never come out of the wilderness the way we went in.

Sadly, no one talks about wilderness experiences in modern day discipleship. The most common words in evangelical discipleship are freedom and forgiveness, joy and peace. These are great words and great gifts from the Father. Yet, there is more to it than our individual success. There’s a world that is suffering. There is a brokenness that breaks the Father’s heart. Those who get close enough to Him feel that suffering as well. That connection to the Father is always found in silence, solitude and yes, even seclusion. The Father’s voice is still and quiet. The world loudly interrupts our prayers. This kind of silence can’t be found by accident. It must be sought. Indeed, it must be craved.

The next time your life seems a little off. The next time your sermon seems a little stale or you just don’t have the enthusiasm for your ministry you had a few weeks ago, open your mind to the thought that God may be calling to the wilderness. He wants to bring you to a place where He can have your full attention.

The Father has something on His mind He wants to talk to you about. His heart is breaking about something that He wants to break your heart as well. He wants to remove everything from our lives that aren’t from Him. This is what the wilderness does and no one is exempt. The next time you feel the pull to the wilderness. Relax. Give yourself into the silence. Don’t be afraid. The Father is waiting there for you.

Don’t waste your wilderness. You never walk out the same way you walked in.

This essay was first posted in Scot McKnight’s newsletter.