As we experience healing in those places where we have been hurt and traumatized, we are able to move into deepening intimacy with God. But even in our healing, one of the ongoing features of the journey is that we stumble and fall along the way. The people of Israel in the wilderness definitely display this reality. When we trip along the way, failing to respond to God’s presence and the way He is leading us, we can retreat and isolate or it can become a place for intimacy and growth. 

In the wilderness, the experience of isolation and loneliness is an invitation to intimacy. In Christ, we have an intimacy and closeness to God that is already in our possession. 1 Cor 2:16 tells us that “we have the mind of Christ.” Indeed, it is our inheritance, and yet we often do not move toward that intimacy because of the patterns of isolation we may embrace as a response to our own sin. In the messiness of the desert, our sin and our brokenness are often more apparent and our abilities to distract, hide, or deny are not as available. So, we may isolate and retreat from God in order to go it alone. This, in turn, may lead to further independence in thought, choice, and action. From there, feelings of failure can lead to further isolation … creating a vicious cycle. The voices and questions we often hear in these spaces are get it together, everyone else seems to be doing just fine, what’s wrong with you?, or do you even love God? The space of isolation can feel like too much to bear so we seek to find intimacy and love in things that can’t meet the need. 

This can be our pattern and yet God invites us to turn our gaze to Him, to look into His eyes, and perceive His heart … to experience His love. We may have misconceptions about how to approach God or even our worthiness to do so. Because we’ve been shaped by relationships in which we have perceived the need to measure up, perform, or please, we may have transferred these perceptions on to God. In their book When Prayer Becomes Real, John Coe and Kyle Stobel make the observation that “prayer is not a place to be good, but a place to be honest.” God knows where we are, what we’ve done or left undone, and how we are thinking about things. He is not intimidated, repulsed, or any other response that is anything but love. Because of this, we not only can come to Him as we are but we should! Psalm 145:18 reminds us that “The Lord is near to all who call on Him.” Of course, He is always near and always present but our experience of Him as near and our movement toward intimacy only occurs as we turn to Him, call on Him, and seek to look into His eyes. Lord, what do you see? What are you noticing?

The challenge of living in a place of isolation and independence is that we are left with our own thoughts and perceptions. Isaiah 55:8 describes the isolated soul: “for my thoughts are not your thoughts.” Intimacy is to know and be known. The invitation to intimacy is to share and express where we are, and then to listen to God’s heart about where we are. This could seem like a scary proposition, and numbing ourselves or trying to escape the desert may sound safer. The truth is that God does respond in love, He is for us, “there is nothing that can separate us from His love.” (Romans 8:39) Pause here for a moment. Can you believe this about God? Can you believe it? It is incredible. There is nothing (not even my sin) that separates me from His love. We can go even a step further and say that – our sin – can be a connecting point to His love, a place to experience His love. What would it be like, if rather than isolating and going it alone with your sin, you stopped and went to Him?

“If we confess our sins,” we experience the reality that He is faithful in grace toward us. (1 John 1:9) The word confess is a word that means “to say the same thing as” or to share the mind of another. Confess is anintimacy word. How do we say the same thing as God? We listen to Him. The invitation in confession is not to merely say “I know what I did or didn’t do is wrong” but to listen to what God has to say about it – to share in His thoughts. If His approach toward us is in fact love, then He doesn’t beat us over the head with our sin but gives us His wisdom and His insight. He shepherds us. He tenderly walks us forward and holds us close. An intimacy with God like this begins to shape us away from sin and isolation.

Intimacy is about conversation, talking to God about anything and everything … sharing our hearts with Him and asking Him what He sees and what He hears in our lives. We also ask: how are you loving me God in this moment? How are you with me? As every day, real things from our lives are touched by the love of God, His love moves from the theology book into our hearts and minds. Things like sexual immorality are no longer the temptation they once were because His love becomes more powerful. Sexual immorality, or other forms of immorality, are pursued because we have a lack of intimacy. But this a burden that is too heavy for sex, or any other created thing, to carry. The design is for us to experience a depth of love with God that can then give meaning to every part of our life.

Question for reflection: what might shift in the way you interact God? If you haven’t already, pause for a few moments and talk to God about the first thing that comes to you mind. Then, ask Him what He sees and hears in what you are experiencing.

Prayer: Lord, thank you for giving me the mind of Christ so that I might know your thoughts and perspectives on all that I experience. May I draw to close to your heart and listen in all the circumstances of my life. I desire the intimacy that you offer. Amen. 

Certainly, the people of Israel had been traumatized during their 400 years of slavery in Egypt. Their capacity to trust and receive the love of God was altered and diminished on some level. We’ve seen this portrayed in these last weeks as they struggled to receive all that God was providing. From their struggle to receive God’s care (with the manna) to the timing of His provision (Moses’ delay) to the misdirected desires for connection, they didn’t fully know how to receive the love of God. The journey in the wilderness … feeling alone and abandoned and disconnected … was being used by God to draw them to His heart. The wilderness is a place of healing … of finding God to be our everything. However, it is a process. Transformation is not overnight. 

Thomas Merton, in Thoughts in Solitude, highlights this: “The desert was created simply to be itself, not to be transformed by men into something else … the desert is therefore the logical dwelling place for the man who seeks to be nothing but himself–that is to say, a creature solitary and poor and dependent upon no one but God, with no great project standing between himself and his Creator.” So, this leaves us with the question, is that what you seek? Pause here for a moment. Are you seeking to be nothing but dependent upon God? Are you desiring for the wilderness to strip you of your learned responses to life so you might experience a “reshaping” of your capacity to love and be loved?

There may be a level of desire in which we just want to numb our capacity … to get some relief. This is likely what was going on with the people of Israel in Numbers 25. Sex is often used this way. God’s heart is that we find His love to be enough, but that can mean that we experience a bit of pain along the way as old relational strategies are laid bare so that new ones can emerge. It will likely mean letting go of some old strategies, involving some starts and stops along the way.

We are designed for intimacy … to love and be loved … to know and be known. Our design includes a beautiful capacity to attach to others in love. Attachment love (hesed) is God’s love (agape in the New Testament), and it transforms us. It shapes us. This capacity is seen in the young child who looks to her parents to see how to respond to falling while trying to walk across the room. A seasoned married couple begins to know what the other is thinking without a word. In 2 Corinthians 5:14–15, we read about this kind of love: “For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.” The word “controls” is a Greek word (sunexo), meaning to hold together or hold fast. His love “controls” us in that it attaches to us – we experience a bonding with Him. 

When we are aware that our capacity to know and be known has been diminished in some way (and this is true for all of us – to varying degrees), we are ready to experience the inner healing and formation that comes through the presence of Holy Spirit in our lives. Our woundedness could be from trauma, addictions, or other sufferings brought into our lives either because of harsh things that have happened or nurturing things that didn’t happen. 

As we intentionally hold fast to the One who holds us fast (i.e., look to Him), we experience this love. However, we often spend much of our lives unaware and nonattentive to His love in a practical way … letting it touch the actual circumstances of our lives. Awareness and attentiveness begin most effectively as we integrate God’s presence and activity into our story. Much as the child looks to the parent’s eyes, we look to the eyes of the one who loves us more than we can imagine. 

How does this work?

We begin with looking at those places of pain that we are tempted to numb or forget. In a wilderness season, by His grace, we are often more aware of these places than at other times. This is a grace even though it usually does not feel like it. We know from trauma research that trauma and pain often get stuck in our body and inhibit the ability to receive love. The “stuckness” happens when we are not able to process the pain the way our brains are wired to process and make sense of life … through integrating the events of life into our story. As children (sons and daughters) of God, we need to look into the eyes of God to see how our experiences (especially those painful ones) fit into His story … the larger story of life. Our small stories generally struggle to hold and give context for deep pain. So, as we bring our pain and hurts to God, our capacity to receive love finds healing and restoration. To put it simply, His story is the reality of His presence and work in our world to connect with His creation through Jesus. 

So, we start with awareness. From this place of awareness, we move into attentiveness as we engage in a process of talking to God … asking the questions: how were You present with me in this part of my life? God, what do You want me to see and understand about this part of my story? Then, we listen … seeking to be attentive to what God brings to our hearts and minds. It can be helpful to write things down. As we become present to God’s heart (what we says to us), we respond with gratefulness. In the great prayer book of the Bible (the Psalms), we see the people of God rehearsing their stories in the presence of God (integrating their experiences into His story) and the response is gratefulness and praise.

Question for reflection: is there an experience from the last day or week, or perhaps further back which God brings to your awareness? Take a few moments to sit with it and walk it through this process of integrating it into His story.

Prayer: Father, may I look into your eyes the ways a child looks to a parent to know what to think and how to respond. I desire to attach myself to You in love. Thank you for attaching Yourself to me. Amen. 

When we encounter deep longing for connection and love, we need discernment … especially as it relates to the sexual temptation which can be present. We need to be able to understand the processes and patterns that shape us and direct our thoughts and behavior. In addition, our discernment needs to be grounded in an experiential relationship with God. In his book, Discernment, Henri J.M. Nouwen offered: “God has created you and me with a heart that only God’s love can satisfy. And every other love will be partial, will be real, but limited, will be painful. And if we are willing to let the pain prune us, to give us a deeper sense of our belovedness, then we can be as free as Jesus and walk on this world and proclaim God’s first love, wherever we go.”

In most of our communities of faith, we are familiar and comfortable with the idea that we are in a relationship with God. And we are likely not resistant to the idea that God loves us. However, we may have little to no experience actually encountering the love of God as more than an idea or theological truth. The love of God contains implications, in terms of truth and ideas, that are incredibly compelling and even helpful for framing things and developing an understanding of God and our lives. At the same time, the love of God is something to be experienced in such a way that we don’t just say “God’s loves me, this I know,” but “yesterday, God loved me as I sensed His presence during my time with a friend” or “God said that He loved me this morning in my time of listening prayer” or “I didn’t know what to say in a meeting yesterday. I paused and listened and heard a still small voice reminding me of something.” When we are experiencing God in an interactive way, His love becomes a part of our lives in more ways than simply a truth perspective.

When we are experiencing and listening to God throughout our day, we are being transformed by His love. The primary word in the Hebrew scriptures for love is the word hesed which speaks of loyalty and connection. In Psalm 103 and 117, we read a description of this hesed: “great is His steadfast love toward us.” The wordgreat is a word that means “powerful” and is often translated “prevail.” The idea is that His love is not just a powerful idea but has a real, shaping power in our lives. How exactly does this work? 

We are shaped by our attachments. As we understand God’s love as an attachment kind of love, we can rightly assert that His love is powerful. In his book Renovated, Jim Wilder writes: “in the human brain, identity and character are formed by who we love. Attachments are powerful and long lasting. Ideas can be changed more easily. Salvation through a new, lasting attachment to God that changes our identities would be a very relational way to understand our salvation: we [are) both saved and transformed through attachment love from, to, and with God.” What is being highlighted, with the help of neuroscience, is that we are brought into a relationship and held in that relationship because God has attached Himself to us. Then, as we actually live in that relationship, we are being loved by God and becoming attached to Him. 

This is why Paul was so concerned about sexual immorality. The relational processes that create bonding and attachment are enhanced significantly by the sexual experience. Chemicals that wash over our brain as a result of sex supercharge the bonding process. And that is a good thing – a gift from God. However, when that bonding process is mixed with false beliefs/false gods, it can wreak havoc. And, if the bonding process occurring in sex is ripped apart by casual sex or not in the context of a covenant relationship, it does damage to our attachment capacity. Trauma, addiction, and other kinds of relational hurt can affect our capacity as well.

In the coming days, we will explore more about finding healing and restoration where damage has occurred. For now, let’s stay with the reality of God’s attachment love toward us. In Psalm 63:1, 3, David wrote: “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.” There is a connection between our longings and steadfast love (hesed) being better than life. Do you see an experiential connection to this in your life? Not, do you believe this? But, are you experiencing this? Sit with this reality and this question for a few moments. What do you notice? What is God bringing to your awareness? How is God shaping your understanding of His love? What practical implications are you noticing?

As you experience a longing for connection, it is important to discern several things. First, it is helpful to discern and distinguish when we experience this kind of longing that only God can fully meet … so that we can name it and not just respond mechanically. Second, what are the ways that you tend to respond to the longing for connection and attachment? What might it be like to develop a habit and pattern of bringing those longings into a prayerful awareness with God? 

In this context, Henri Nouwen shared: “The real work of prayer is to become silent and listen to the voice that says good things about me. To gently push aside and silence the many voices that question my goodness and to trust that I will hear the voice of blessing – that demands real effort.” Take a few moments and ask God to bring your longing for connection and attachment to your awareness. What questioning voices come to your awareness? Gently let them go and stay present to how God wants to connect with you. Notice His voice and presence with you.

Being established and renewed in the love of God does not happen overnight, but through consistent, patterned response to our longings for connection. Then, God becomes our all and the foundation from which we encounter all other relationships.

Question for reflection: how is God speaking to you? If you haven’t already, sit further with the questions above. 

Prayer: Lord, I desire to know Your love – not just intellectually but in my bones. I desire for You to be the one to whom I am attached before all others. May all other relationships flow from the love I experience with you. Amen.

As we explore the next account of Israel’s time in the wilderness, we move a bit deeper into trust as we examine the issue of intimacy. The word intimacy itself elicits various emotions and thoughts. Perhaps fear and confusion or perhaps longing and anticipation. Maybe curiosity. No matter your initial response, may you grow in your responsive to the Lord’s invitation to move from isolation to intimacy.

Once again, in the wilderness, the people of Israel struggled to trust God with their hearts … to follow Him in the dry, desolate desert. Specifically, Paul alludes to an episode from Numbers 25 as he challenges the Corinthian believers with: “we must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day.” (1 Cor 10:8) Before looking at Numbers, it is helpful to understand that the religious climate of Corinth in the first century included worship of false gods that mixed worship and sexual expression. In Corinthian temples, worship which included sex with prostitutes was a temptation and was seducing followers of Christ. 

In Numbers 25:1-3, we read that something very similar occurred with significant consequences: “While Israel lived in Shittim, the people began to whore with the daughters of Moab. These invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate and bowed down to their gods. So Israel yoked himself to Baal of Peor. And the anger of the LORD was kindled against Israel.” The word “whore” in verse 1 and “yoked” in verse 3 speak to the sexual immorality that was occurring, and it was occurring in a religious context. The people were attaching themselves through ritual, sexualized worship of false gods.  

Before you tune out and wonder about the relevance of a discussion like this, hang in there for a few more minutes. While there is much that could be said about the context and design for sexual activity in general, the specific context in both 1 Corinthians and Numbers is worth noting. What is being addressed is the mixture of sexuality with worship. Again, you may wonder about the relevance. Certainly, in today’s world, we don’t seem to be tempted in quite this same way. However, the connection with worship might actuality be pointing to something more significant about sexuality than we might perceive at first blush. In fact, understanding the link with worship might open our eyes to the beauty and gift of sexuality in transformative ways.

 If we look at the broader context in 1 Corinthians, we see that a discussion of sexuality is laced throughout the pages of the letter. In particular, 1 Corinthians 6:13-20 uses the phrase sexual immorality (as in 10:8) several times and also draws some helpful distinctions that can help us see the relevance to our lives:

“’Food is meant for the stomach and the stomach for food’—and God will destroy both one and the other. The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body. And God raised the Lord and will also raise us up by his power. Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them members of a prostitute? Never! Or do you not know that he who is joined to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For, as it is written, ‘The two will become one flesh.’ But he who is joined to the Lord becomes one spirit with him. Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.”

Note the statement: “food is meant for the stomach and the stomach for food.” This was a common saying in that first century context, and a metaphor for saying “It’s a natural function of the body to engage in sexual activity.” The response was not to say that sex is unnatural or not a part of our design, but that we need to direct our gaze a bit higher. Our bodies and sexuality have to be understood in the context of our relationship with God. Specifically, our body is designed to be enjoyed and experienced “for the Lord.” Even more specifically, our body is a temple (a dwelling place) of the Holy Spirit. Our body is a place designed to glorify God. 

To glorify something is to extol its essence. To glorify God is to bring honor to who He is. Another way we might say it is that to glorify God is to reflect His image, His essence. Our bodies were made to reflect His essence, and, of course, there are so many things we could say about the essence of God but perhaps the most relevant in this context is the connectedness of God. God, existing in three persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, lives in eternal relationship and connection. This is why we can say that God is love. (1 John 4:8) What all of this points to is that perhaps the most significant way to glorify God is to experience a connectedness in our bodies. The immorality of the ancient people of Israel is that they were connecting/attaching with false gods. God desires that we connect with Him. 

In the wilderness, as we look for comfort, love, and connection because of the disconnection and isolation we feel, the temptation is to look toward sex to dispel the disconnectedness. However, immorality results because this reverses the order of divine and human relationships. The sexualized worship of these Biblical passages presents a pattern which is all too common in our world today: use sex to attempt to find intimacy and ultimately become connected to something other than God. The divine pattern is finding intimacy, love, and connection with God which becomes the context for all other relational connections with others. When our experience of love is rightly ordered, sexuality (and really any relational connection) is a beautiful gift that points us back to the love of God and is also an expression of God’s love.

So, our exploration this week is an invitation to search our hearts … to examine our feelings of disconnection and isolation and also to consider how intimacy finds its fullest realization. How do we bond with God in ways that are a fulfillment of our created design?

Questions for reflection: what is standing out to you in this movement from isolation to intimacy? Are you noticing any resistance to exploring the issue of intimacy?

Prayer: Lord, I acknowledge the messiness and confusion that often surrounds sexuality. Give me ears to hear what You desire to say to me this week and provide deepening insight into the ways that my body can connect with You. Amen.

On Sundays, we are invited to pause in order to remember God’s goodness and His work in us on the journey thus far. In Isaiah 30, we read: “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” Notice the ways that God is leading you into deepening rest and trust.

Use the following to engage in a time of examen prayer:

• Begin by quieting your heart before God and simply taking a few deep, slow breaths as you remember that you are in God’s presence. 

• Review the week with gratitude. What is the Spirit bringing to your awareness?

• Notice the ways that God has been present to you in the previous week.

• What are you thankful for? What might God want you to see that you didn’t previously notice? Perhaps a place to repent?

• Select a part of your reflection from the week to pray over.

• Pray for the coming week.

Write out a prayer of thanksgiving and celebration as you look back and look forward.

Would love to hear how God has been using “Trusting God in the Wilderness” so far in this Lenten season! Share a reflection by emailing me at ted@tedwueste.com

Over the last week, we have examined the ways that idolatry might be present in our lives. Rather than understanding idolatry as the worship of something physical or external to ourselves, we have looked at the ways that idolatry is primarily an issue of the heart. Idolatry occurs as we rely upon things (including ourselves) to provide things that only God can provide. We were made for Him and we are His (Psalm 100). Idolatry is not merely a sin against God. It is a sin against ourselves and our created design.
 
In the wilderness, we are exposed. We experience an emptiness, nakedness, and vulnerability. Christ offers Himself to cover and protect us. This is why we read in Romans 15: “put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” In the desolation of wilderness, we become aware of all the old clothing that we put on to cover our nakedness and shame. We see more clearly and sense the invitation from God to: “put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires … and put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Eph 4:22-24) A clothing metaphor is used here and in other portions of Scripture. Clothing serves a practical function – it covers and protects, and it also has an identification aspect – it signifies who we are. We generally choose to wear clothing that fits – both our body and our identity. 
 
For Adam and Eve, when they became aware of their nakedness – they picked up fig leaves and began to hide – hiding not only their nakedness but hiding themselves from God. (cf. Genesis 3) The tragedy of the false self is that we think we’re covering and protecting ourselves (and in a sense we are) but more than that we’re hiding ourselves from God.
 
In so many ways, this is an unintended consequence. As we worship (give ourselves to) the gods of the false self, we are hiding from God because the attention of our heart and mind is on what we do, what we have, and what others think of us. 
 
Over the centuries, there have been those who have intentionally inhabited a desert space. Commenting on the motivation, Belden Lane observed: “The desert monks were hardly naïve despisers of culture. What they fled with greatest fear was not the external world, but the world they carried inside themselves: an ego-centeredness needing constant approval, driven by compulsive behavior, frantic in its effort to attend to a self-image that always required mending.”  (The Solace of Fierce Landscapes)
 
As we choose to abide in the wilderness, even when our entry was not a choice, and intentionally remove the clothing of the false self, we pick up the clothing of God’s presence, provision, and proclamation. He is our covering, our protection … our identity. Wilderness is, in this sense, a deep grace … a gift that we couldn’t receive any other way. It is a gift that we could never imagine or even know how to ask for. The movement from striving (what the false self demands) to rest (what God offers in true self) is not something we achieve, possess, or earn. In fact, those are the strategies of the old clothing, the false self. This rest is something we receive as gift. It is something that we enter into as we are aware. 
 
Thomas Merton offered a perspective on the wilderness that roots us in the gift that it truly is: “The Desert Fathers believed that the wilderness had been created as supremely valuable in the eyes of God precisely because it had no value to men. The wasteland was the land that could never be wasted by men because it offered them nothing. There was nothing to attract them. There was nothing to exploit. The desert was the region in which the Chosen People had wandered for forty years, cared for by God alone. They could have reached the Promised Land in a few months if they had travelled directly to it. God’s plan was that they should learn to love Him in the wilderness and that they should always look back upon the time in the desert as the idyllic time of their life with Him alone.”
 
Our task in the desert is to stay awake and alert in order to be aware of the invitations. An ancient story illustrates this beautifully. An apprentice asks his spiritual master about the value of spiritual practice. “What can I specifically do to reach enlightenment?” The master responded, “As but as much as you can do to make the sun rise.” A bit perplexed, the disciple asks, “Then, why pray?” “Ah, so that you are awake when the sun rises?”
 
Ah, that we would be awake when the sun rises! That we would receive that awareness of His love and rest there in delight!
 
Consider these words from Psalm 37, “dwell in the land … and befriend faithfulness … delight yourself in the Lord … be still before the Lord … wait patiently for Him.” Sit with those words for a few moments. What stands out to you? How is the Lord shaping your heart right now?

Question for reflection: how are you waking to the Lord’s love and activity in your life?
 
Prayer: Lord, by Your mercy and through faith, may I be awake to Your love and the ways You are shaping me in this season. Give me the wisdom and courage to release the idols to which I tend to cling … that I might attach more fully to Your heart. Amen. 

In the wilderness spaces of life, one of the distinct features that can arise is loneliness. When suffering, the experience of aloneness can be quite profound. Our response can be either to resist and manage those difficult emotions with our own resources, or to discover how the Lord might desire to be with us in the loneliness and isolation. Loneliness and the feelings of alienation are common human experiences, and for many of us we learned how to navigate them at an early age. We learned how to do things to either get noticed by others or to stay off the radar that could lead to potential criticism. As we continue to consider idolatry, we can make an idol of what others think of us. It can be a place we go to receive what can only come from God.

Henri Nouwen described this clearly: “I am constantly surprised at how I keep taking the gifts God has given me – my health, my intellectual and emotional gifts – and keep using them to impress people, receive affirmation and praise, and compete for rewards, instead of developing them for the glory of God.”

An awareness of this idol often shows up in the solitude of the desert because when we experience loneliness, there is no one to impress … there is no one to put salve in the wounds of loneliness. All the relational props and strategies get knocked away in the isolation of the wilderness. If it is a time of severe illness, we may lose the ability to seem strong or perhaps competent. If it is the suffering of broken relationship or a lost career, we may lose the sense that we are important. The gift in times like these is that we are left with nothing, just us. Just us and God. It may not feel like a gift but … what can emerge is the experience of being enough. Not only that God is enough, but that we are enough. We can stand on our own in Christ. We become deeply aware of our significance, giftedness, dignity, and value that transcends both the affirmation and denigration of others. 

The people of Israel were collectively confronted with a sense of isolation and vulnerability. In Exodus 32:1, the text simply notes that Moses delayed. Packed into that word “delayed” is certainly a sense of loneliness and abandonment. Rather than seeking God in that moment, the people went to what was familiar. As Jesus journeyed through His 40 days, the devil sought to exploit the loneliness and isolation of the desert as he tempted Jesus from the pinnacle of the temple with “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.’” (Matthew 4:6) The temptation was to put on a show, to perform … to deal with the isolation by using His relationship with the Father to do a miracle. Jesus simply responds with “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” (v. 7) In other words, “I am not going to try to get God the Father to show up for me according to my perceived needs, but instead I will trust His love and plans for me.” Jesus modeled rest as opposed to striving. He didn’t need an outside source of validation.

Jesus also modeled this at the cross. In Hebrews 12:2, we read: “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” On the cross, Jesus hung battered, bruised, bleeding, and naked … executed as a criminal. The loneliness He experienced was excruciating, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22) The mocking, “if you are the Son of God, come down from the cross … save yourself” (Matt 27:40ff), was intense. The shame was quite palpable. Jesus despised (or, let go of) the shame because of the joy set before Him. 

For Jesus, “the joy set before Him” was living into the fulfilment of everything that had been planned for Him. He could let go of the shame (and need to validate Himself) because of what had been promised and proclaimed about Him. For us, in a time of loneliness and isolation in the wilderness, we can also release the shame and trust in what God has said about us. We can let go of people pleasing strategies and rest in the reality that in Christ we are enough. 

We may believe that the promise of an abundant life in Christ is true, and we also might be plagued with the idea that we aren’t the kind of person who could live into the fullness of that life. For the people of Israel, God had promised them entry into a land where they could grow in love and faithfulness. He was also leading them into it. However, we know from Numbers 13:32-33 that they compared themselves to those already in the land and became afraid: “the land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height.” Fear gripped them, and fear is often the companion of the loneliness and isolation of the wilderness. We just aren’t so sure we have what it takes. From that place of insecurity, we can rely upon what others think to fill the gaps. We may try to fill the emptiness with the applause and approval of others. 

As we reflect on this and then release the false self (of what others think about us), we can then remember that in Christ we are complete. The prayer of Ephesians 2:19 (“that you may be filled with the fullness of God”) is a prayer that we would experience what is already true about us. See Colossians 2:9-10, “for in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him.”

Question for reflection: can you see ways that you try to please people or attempt to get people to think about you a certain way? 

Prayer: Lord, I release this idol of defining myself based on what others think. Thank for you taking me into wilderness spaces where I am confronted with this. I desire to experience the reality that I am filled and complete in You. Amen.

Not only does the false self show up as we are tempted to craft an identity around “what we do,” it can also arise as we connect our hearts to “what we have.” Certainly, in the wilderness, so often shaped by loss or lack, we are very aware of what we don’t have. The idolatry of what we possess can be quite deceptive because what we possess are generally good things, needed things. The trouble arises in how we are possessing them.

As the wilderness lays us bare, we become aware that things are amiss and the need for deep soul work is brought to our attention. Our impulse can be to deal with it on our own, to use our own resources to address our emptiness, nakedness, and loneliness. The impulse “to do” or produce is a response to the emptiness (we explored this yesterday), the impulse to “possess” response to the experience of feeling naked, or exposed. Tomorrow, we will explore how we deal with our loneliness through the idol of “what other’s think about us.” All of these are self-protective strategies and time in the wilderness is designed to strip of these things so we will take up what God provides.

First, what are the specific possessions we may use to protect or cover ourselves? It could be so many things: finances, good health, family, nationality, knowledge, relationships, experiences, etc. Let’s pause here for a moment. Do you use any of these “possessions” to cover your shame? Are there other “possessions” the Lord is bringing to your awareness? You might consider what it would be like to lose any of these things. What happens in your heart and mind as you reflect? Do you notice yourself in some kind of discomfort? Is there a reaction of clinging? 

Dismantling the idol of “what we have” occurs as we notice our attachment and clinging, and then trust that God’s provision is enough. Unexamined, our clinging to things other than Christ can function like a computer program running underneath our awareness. Advertisers and marketers know this incredibly well and utilize it to stir a “sense of need” where need does not necessarily exist. The supposed scarcity of things is also something that can cultivate an attachment to things, even a hoarding of possessions.

The challenge for us … do we believe that what God’s provides is enough? Do we believe that life in in Him is truly abundant? And are we noticing when our hunger and need is being manipulated? For Jesus in the wilderness, the enemy came to Him to attempted to exploit the real hunger He was experiencing as He fasted. “’If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ But He answered, ‘It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” (Matthew 4:3-4) Notice how Jesus responds. He doesn’t deny that He was hungry. He also doesn’t deny that bread is something needed for life. He does refuse to trust in His own resources (as the Son of God) to cover His hunger. He also recognized that something deeper than physical hunger was in play: will I trust where the Father has me right now? Jesus’ trust/rest in being the beloved was being tested, as is ours in a wilderness season.

Jesus’s response of not living by bread alone is a quote from Deuteronomy 8:3 and in the verse that follows we find a fascinating statement: “Your clothing did not wear out on you and your foot did not swell these forty years.” It might seem like a meaningless detail. However, the inclusion of this detail, right after talking about the provision of manna and that their lives were sustained by God, points to something deeper than just clothes and good foot health. God was saying, “I took care of you. I provided for you.” As we consider how naked and exposed we feel in the wilderness, God wants to remind us of His provision. In 1 Peter 1:4, we read that in Christ, we have “an inheritance (clothing, provision) that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading.” And then, Peter discusses walking through trials so that our faith is tested. By faith, we trust in God’s provision for all things we need, and then that faith is tested. The prayer of David in Psalm 23 reminds us of this perspective as well … “The Lord is my Shepherd; I don’t need a thing.”

1 John 2:16 calls this temptation to idolatry “pride in one’s possessions,” and it highlights the need for humility. David Benner echoes this: “The way of the true self is always the way of humility. Pride and arrogance move us toward our false self, but humility and love allow us to live the truth of our being.” As we become aware of our need being stirred and directed away from humble trust, we look to God in humility, trusting in His provision. 

So, in contrast to the expression of the false self which is about what we have, the true self rests in God’s provision … receiving His provision as enough. What might that look like for you? How will you release an identity based on possessions and remember that what He provides is truly enough?

Question for reflection: how do you see the false self of “what we have” at work in your life?

Prayer: Lord, give me the wisdom to see Your provision and to humbly trust that it is enough for me. I am grateful for the way that You provide everything I need for a life of godliness. Amen. 

When it comes to the deep soul work of the wilderness, we experience losses that can be incredibly disorienting. The ways our lives have been defined are no longer in place, and the things we thought we knew have been removed. The comfort of knowing what would happen next, even for the people of Israel enslaved in Egypt, was stripped away and replaced with the unknowing/uncertainty of following God in the dry, dusty desert. While it feels harsh, it is love.

In Soul Making, Alan Jones observes: “The task of love is to help us rid ourselves of the exoskeleton, to lay us bare, to set us free. But we love the prison house. The place of bondage is, at least, familiar. Love, then, comes as an unwelcome shock.” We may love the prison house because it gave us a sense of identity. When God rescues us from being enslaved to things other than Himself, He is doing it to bring us back to remembrance … remembering that we are not machines whose existence is defined by how many bricks we can make and how fast we can make them … remembering that we are designed and created to live fruitful lives that spring out of our life with God in which He alone is enough for us. For the people of Israel, they were shaped over centuries to believe that their worth was rooted in what they could do, what they could accomplish. We may find that have we been shaped in similar ways. It may have been family pressures to “make something of your life” or the societal pressures in which we are seemingly always asked, “what do you do for a living?”

As we explore how the idolatry of “what we do” may be present in our lives, we may become overwhelmed. We may react by thinking, “Ok, well, just tell me what to do.” We may desire things to be simple and easy, but the realities of the heart are complex, and we have a relationship with God, not lists of “do this” and “don’t do that.” Dismantling the idols that have become lodged in our hearts takes time, and the impulse to “do” actually reveals a heart that has been shaped in a particular way. This can be part of the attraction of a religious system of dos and don’ts. It doesn’t take faith or trust but simply the either/or of “doing.” We’re either in or we’re out. We either did it or we didn’t. This can be our thought process. While it is not gracious or lifegiving, it is manageable. However, God’s heart for us is not to live a manageable life but a life flowing with goodness and grace that is rooted in relationship. Relationship can feel like a fuzzy word, perhaps even a bit vague. However, if we put it in terms of identity, we can ask: do you see yourself, as your core identity, as a beloved son or daughter of God?

It is interesting to note that before Jesus had done any work or accomplished any ministry, He was baptized (Matthew 3). At His baptism, He heard those words we discussed last week, “this is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.” Belovedness, relationship, and value do not come as a result of work but should be what lead us into the work/the “doing” of life. Then, of course, the next stop in Matthew 4 was the wilderness temptation where this was all challenged. In verses 8-9, we read: “Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’” In a very basic way, the temptation for Jesus was to “do” life on His own terms … to circumnavigate the suffering of the cross and go straight to being a king. His “doing” in life, we see over and over again, was shaped by a responsiveness to His Father. In John 5:19, Jesus says, “The Son can do nothing of His own accord but only what He sees the Father doing.” Relationship, connection with the Father, was primary and foundational.

As we are pressed into a wilderness space where we are limited in what we can do and things are stripped away, our prayers can be shaped by wanting to get around the suffering or they can be shaped by resting in our identity as the beloved. The loss of a dream or the loss of ability to “do” can be a deep grace if we are willing to receive it that way. Rather than asking God to get us out of the desert, what would it be like to rest in what is? How might you receive what is as an invitation to press more deeply into your identity as one who is living in a relationship with God?

As we make that kind of choice, we begin to experience that His love is enough … that His presence is more satisfying than anything we might do or accomplish. We are able to say with confidence, “It is not about what I do, but who I am as a son (or daughter) of God.” It is a life of resting in faith and trust rather than striving to accomplish. To be sure, this is not easy. It is upside down from what we have often experienced. Henri Nouwen said it so beautifully, “Jesus’ [life] is characterized by a downward pull. That is what disturbs us. We cannot even think about ourselves in terms other than those of an upward pull, an upward mobility in which we strive for better lives, higher salaries and more prestigious positions. Thus, we are deeply disturbed by a God who embodies a downward movement.”

As opposed to the false self which is about what we do, the true self is resting in our belovedness and actually letting God love us … receiving His presence as enough. What might that look like for you? How will you release an identity based on doing and remember that God is loving you, He is with you?

Notice the way Habakkuk describes resting in faith (the heart of true worship) in the following: “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.” (3:17–19)

Question for reflection: how do you see the false self of “what we do” at work in your life?

Prayer: Lord, give me the strength to rest in relationship with You. Give me the wisdom to see You and listen to You in the ways you desire to be with me and love me. Amen.