Are you in the wilderness?

Surely there is supposed to be more milk & honey

I talk to more Christians who feel as though they’re living in the wilderness than those who feel they are thriving in the promised land. Maybe that’s you today.

The wilderness isn’t just part of human experience—it’s where much of our spiritual formation happens. It’s often the foundation of our spiritual life, but also the reality of much of our human existence.

A few weeks ago, I listened to someone in his mid-thirties who might be described as being “in the wilderness.” The future is unclear, the past holds grief and anxiety, and the present feels like dust and dryness. He’s a deeply faithful Christian, given over to being “exclusively God’s.” He struggles with depression, and that’s real. He sees a therapist and takes medication. Still, he feels spiritually lost—like he’s not making the progress he thought he would in this season of life. He feels lost although his days are busy and full.

Here he is, feeling as though he signed up for a spiritual life of milk and honey, and instead it feels more like cracked land and drought. Why has God led him into the wilderness?

And—are you in a wilderness? Does the future feel uncertain, the past lost, the present like sand slipping through your fingers? Does the future that seemed bright seem uncertain? Are the things that you trusted as sign posts lost in the sand?

Just this week, I’ve encountered all kinds of wilderness: a friend whose husband lost his job and whose son struggles with mental illness. A child in foster care carrying trauma. A friend who no longer knows her purpose in midlife. The thief of dementia. A broken relationship. A man in his seventies still chasing a get-rich scheme that feels like dust. My own shifting sense of identity in midlife.

It does seem as though God leads people into the wilderness (Exodus 13:18; Deuteronomy 8:2; Exodus 3:1–2; 1 Kings 19:3–9; Hosea 2:14; Luke 1:80; Matthew 4:1; Mark 1:12). Still, I’m not sure if God led this particular person I met with there—or if it’s simply the result of life’s circumstances.

But I do know this: there are lessons that can only be learned in the wilderness through God.

For those who belong to Jesus, the wilderness isn’t punishment—it’s formation. It’s where faith grows roots deeper than we every imagined. It’s where sanctification happens and where we continue the journey toward wholeness in Christ.

When God brought the Israelites out of captivity, He led them into the wilderness to become His people. There, Israel learned to depend on God for daily sustenance. They discovered that God’s character was merciful—He showed up again and again, even in their grumbling and golden calves. God wasn’t pleased, but He continued to call His people to Himself.

It was in the wilderness that the Israelites learned God was inviting them into a covenant that encompassed every part of life—sunup to sundown, action and thought, motive and intention. In return, God said, “You will be my people, and I will be your God.” They learned that God cares about justice, truth, and mercy. That He is holy and will not abide distortion of His ways. And they learned that God was always with them—a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.

When you find yourself in the wilderness, remember—it’s here that God teaches you:

• Dependence and trust (daily manna)

• The mercy and steadfast love of God (God keeps reorienting them to Himself)

• The constant presence of God (pillar of cloud & fire)

• The invitation into covenant with Him (the covenant is not a bargain, but the essence of God for the essence of the people)

As I listened to my friend’s story, I sat with him in the presence of God. A word came seemingly from the Holy Spirit: “I have not forgotten him.” A few weeks later, my friend told me that this word gave him courage and new eyes to see God in the midst of the desert.

Maybe you feel as though God has forgotten you in your wilderness. In Genesis 16:13, a slave-girl, abused by her mistress, forced into sex with her master, pregnant and cast into the wilderness, meets the angel of the Lord. The angel blesses her and gives her a promise: a future, a hope, and descendants beyond number—the most significant blessing in the ancient Near East. And then she does something remarkable: she names God.

A servant girl names God, and Scripture remembers it. That’s stunning.

She calls Him, “You are the God who sees me.”

Maybe that’s what you need to know today.
That God sees you.
You are not forgotten.

There are lessons in the wilderness that can only be learned in the wilderness.

One of the deepest lessons is the daily nourishment in God is the way to walk. Even a little bit. 10 verses a day. Just a little spiritual food (manna) to feed you.

Here’s a paraphrase of Psalm 63 to accompany you today:

Psalm 63 (my paraphrase)

God, you are my God.
I’m searching for you with everything in me.
I’m thirsty for you—body, mind, and soul—
in a dry place where nothing seems to grow.

I’ve seen you before,
felt your power and your beauty.
Your love is better than life itself,
so I’ll keep speaking your praise.

As long as I have breath, I’ll lift my hands to you.
You fill me like a feast—
and I’ll sing because my heart is full.

When I lie awake at night, I remember you.
In the dark hours, my thoughts drift toward you.
You’ve been my help,
and I sing beneath the shadow of your wings.

I’m holding on tight,
and your strong hand keeps me steady.

Those who chase me down—my anxieties and fears—will fall;
their power over me will fade away.
They’ll dissolve into the dust from which they came.

But those who trust you—
we’ll rejoice.
We’ll speak your name with honor,
and every false voice will finally go quiet.

Thanks for reading, friend. Drop me a line about how I can be praying for you.

The wilderness is where you find God today. The only way is through.