Desert Wanderings

"All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, 'If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this wilderness! Why is the Lord bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder. Wouldn't it be better for us to go back to Egypt?' And they said to each other, 'We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt.'" (Numbers 14:2-4)

Oh Israel. I can imagine that's what God might be saying while watching his people travel from Egypt, through the desert, through the wilderness. By the time we get to this point in Numbers, the complaints of Israel have taken a turn toward rebellion, profanity, disorder, and ultimately mistrust. The people so long for the sense of familiar they once had in Egypt, even if this familiar meant slavery, and death. They would rather live and die as slaves in Egypt, than die in the wilderness or die in the promised land.  The feeling of ambiguity fueled a sense of disorient. Although God's faithfulness was proved again and again through God's raising up a leader to lead them out of Egypt, giving them laws as an act of grace (Yes, I did just write an essay question on my Old Testament mid-term on this), offering them manna and quail, and providing water that came from a rock, the Israelites did not see because they were blinded by their own sense of homesickness. This new identity God was leading them into was hindered in an inability of the people to shake off the deeply ingrained identity they've known for generations. In the words of BBFP, "the key problem proves not to be the keeping of the law, but an inability to rest back in the arms of the God who has brought freedom and keeps promises." 

Wow. As I reflect on life right now, I can't help but identify with the Israelites. Most of the time I find myself yearning for an identity that I once knew before I entered this phase of life that feels like I'm wandering in a very dry land. Knowing that God's hand was in our decision to move to this place, to enter into seminary, and in a sense uproot from the very flat, corny lands of South Dakota to the very green, lakeside yet tree-heavy (and allergy heavy) land of Michigan. The newness of moving was like the excitement of the offering of life the Israelites were promised in leaving Egypt. But now, the new exciting feeling has subsided and I'm more overcome with the feeling that I don't know what I'm doing here. I feel like I'm wandering and more so, instead of trusting that God is the leader who has great things in store, I find that I am choosing to lead my own way rather than following the path God has faithfully set in place.

More and more, I find myself longing for Egypt. Not in the sense that I was once enslaved and desire that life, but more in that I long for familiarity, for an established identity, for a land that I recognize.  I am missing the feeling of thriving and the feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be doing exactly what I am supposed to do. Amidst all of my new "hats" I still feel like I'm fumbling through, trying unsuccessfully to master the new skills required of me.  I feel as if I'm not cut out for "real life"-- for the wilderness. In the midst of my own dismay, I am neglecting what I know about God and his promises and I find myself doubting more than trusting he is leading me to a place that is life-giving, to a promised land.

And so, I find myself longing even more for the promised land. While looking back to Egypt, I also desire whats ahead. I desire the time when things make more sense than they do now, when I've gotten the hang of the things that I am doing. Mostly, I desire to be in a place where I don't lean into my wanderings and incessant need to "know", but when I lean into a faithful God who not only led his people to the promised land, but sent the One who was promised to rescue all from their wilderness wanderings-- their instinctual responses to put their journey in their own hands, mistrusting a good God who had so much more for them in mind.

I believe God has so much more in store than my experience of the new realities I'm living. The thing is, while the Israelites were wandering, God was with them the whole time. I don't believe God is absent from my wanderings, even though I can't quite grasp him or his promises. He's there. He's calling me to something better than the anxious, disoriented, fragmented land I am wandering and into land that flows with milk and honey or something like that.

The biggest question now is, how then, do I shake this wandering feeling? If I know these things, then why am I still in a sense of crisis, a feeling of mourning over this dry land I find that I've been led to? Why do I find myself yelling "Here I am! Here I am!" and yet I am unable to hear God searching for me? It seems at this point, I am left with more questions than answers.

But, I pray. I pray because despite my wanderings and sense of distance from God, I still believe he listens to my grumblings.

God of Israel,

Forgive me for distrusting your faithfulness to lead me to a place that you've called me to be. 

In this confusion that seems to be my reality, help me to hear more clearly your voice above my own. 

Humble me, so that I may focus more on your will than my impatience in getting to the promised land. 

Help me to be a vessel of compassion and grace to myself and to others as I spend time wandering in the hopes of establishing the identity you've set before me. 

You have been faithful throughout history and will not cease to be faithful now and forever. 

Amen