Getting Uncomfortable

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

High school probably went one of two ways for you. Perhaps those years were gold-tinged glory days that you smile back on with your friends over coffee, or maybe for you, it was the equivalent of being trapped in a den of wolves for four years. Like so many unfortunate others, the latter experience was mine. As an introverted freshman, I had trouble making friends, preferring to curl up with a book while everyone else did whatever it is “normal” teenagers do on Saturday nights. My sophomore year and onward I was seduced into a dark dance with anorexia, and my senior year contained the emergence of Major Depressive Disorder. By the time I reached college, I would look to the heavens and ask if enough was enough. After all of the suffering I had been through, didn't I deserve a break? Hadn't I earned the comfort of a smooth college career and a tranquil “happily ever after?” 

Photo Credit: F Romero

Everyone yearns for comfort, whether it is of a mental, physical, or materialistic nature; it is an instinctual human reflex to avoid pain and seek pleasure. When we are not challenged, however, we have a way of being lulled into complacency, and become numb to God's urging for us to venture out of our safe havens.

Revelation 3:14-22 is a letter from God to the church of Laodicea, with the apostle John as the middle-man. Historically, Laodicea was one of the most comfortable cities in Asia Minor, known for its financial prosperity, luxurious fashions, and excellent medicine. Ironically enough, the city did not possess the most basic of all human needs: a water source. When we slip into the apathy of worldly comforts, we may have an abundance of food and a secure job and a house in a safe neighborhood, but if we do not seek Christ, the living water and indeed, the most basic and crucial of human needs, what good is our cushy lifestyle?

God tells the church of Laodicea: “So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you from my mouth. You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” (Rev. 3:16-17). This might seem harsh at first glance, but our God always speaks in a perfect balance of grace and truth: “For those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline.” (Rev. 3:19). While God certainly hates to see any of us miserable, the Scripture warns us of how physical comfort can breed spiritual stagnation. Perhaps in our own eyes we are prosperous and knowledgeable, but spiritually we are stumbling fools, naked and blind.

If Christ were to walk into our church today, undoubtedly the assessment would be that we are mirroring the mistakes our brothers and sisters in Laodicea made centuries ago. We are far too comfortable: in our material situations, in our interactions with each other, and in our deeply entrenched beliefs. Our financial security hinders us from taking unnecessary risks. In an attempt to keep the peace with others, we sacrifice opportunities to nudge each other toward Christ. When we are put in a position that challenges our beliefs, we shrink from the chance to grow, and we hide in the safety of the status quo.

Personally, the moments that I felt God's presence the strongest were during my most uncomfortable moments. The turbulent years of high school are behind me. Medication, therapy, and support from family and friends has helped me to better control my mental illness. I found my way back to God, was baptized, and go to church nearly every Sunday. My grades are good. I have a promising job. I have made many wonderful friends. I have finally acquired the comfort that I so desperately yearned for years ago. I am grateful, certainly, but I will admit to you that I cling to these comforts too tightly.

It is so easy to kneel in prayer when it is the world that drives you to your knees. We go to God so willingly when we are afraid, when we are weak, when we are depressed, when we are lonely. In our suffering, we are closer to God because we are actively seeking our Heavenly Father out. Why isn't this desire as strong when we are content and life is being kind? I often am guilty of saying something along these lines: “Okay God, thank you so much for getting me here, but I don't really need anything right now. I'm all good. Talk to you later.”

Our thirst is so falsely quenched by earthly comforts that we do not notice our souls are running dry; we need the living water of Christ to be truly nourished. This doesn't mean that we should actively seek discomfort. We don't have to give away all of our material possessions or force ourselves to suffer. Instead, we should remember the desperation for God we felt when we were suffering, and pursue God with equal fervor even when we are not. We should live each day as if we have never tasted the living water before.


[Abby Hocking is a senior at Calvin College, where she studies psychology and writing. She is employed at Pine Rest Christian Mental Services and plans to become a therapist. Abby is a proud literature nerd, running addict, and puppy enthusiast. She thanks God daily for her wonderful family, her loving friends, and for 21 Pilots.]

Grace and Truth: W.W.J.D.?

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]



Photo Credit: Flickr Creative Commons, user dylanh777

As a 90’s kid, I grew up sporting the very popular W.W.J.D. bracelets throughout my childhood, often wearing mismatching colors at the same time. Because I attended a Christian school during the week and church on Sundays, it really was the “cool” thing to do. However, I don’t think I ever spent much time contemplating what those four letters actually meant: what would Jesus do? When another student was left out at recess, what would Jesus do? When someone else didn’t understand the math lesson and it made perfect sense to me, what would Jesus do?

 

Now as an adult, I reflect on those words and still wonder if I know what they mean in our world today. How do I act like Jesus amidst severe disagreement between political parties? What would Jesus do in the aftermath of the horrible violence in Orlando? How can I reflect Jesus’s love to those living in extreme poverty, experiencing physical or emotional abuse, or suffering from mental illness or addiction?

In response to these questions, we can find comfort, hope, and guidance in the passage we read from Revelation this week. Jesus shares these words with John to give to the church in Ephesus:

I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. (Revelation 2:2-5)

Can we imagine that Jesus might share some of the same thoughts with us today—as a global church, as Encounter Church, or as individuals? The Christian church has endured persecution in the past and continues to in the present, even if it manifests itself differently in this age of technology—and we continue to endure by the power of the Holy Spirit. However, as Jesus shared with the church in Ephesus, we often forget about the love that brought us to Christ in the first place.

It’s easy to get caught up in the legality of current hot topics such as immigration, refugees, homosexuality, pornography, wealth distribution… and the list could go on and on. Christ recognizes that there is importance to seek truth in all of these issues, but He also encourages us to live a life of love. It often seems that there is disconnect between these two ideas—Biblical truth and the love of Christ—but as Christians, just like the Ephesians, we should seek to harmonize these two concepts.

I think the best example of Jesus showing 100% truth and 100% love can be found in John 8:3-11 (my shortened version):

 

The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” …And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” …Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

The truth was that this woman was an adulteress and deserved to face the consequences of her sin. However, the truth also shows that not one of those accusing her was without sin, and this is where grace and love appear. Jesus shows great love and grace by saving this woman from the consequences of her sin and by inviting her to go and sin no more, to follow Him.

I hope that we can reflect Jesus’s amazing ability to speak 100% truth into the lives of those he met with a heart that is full of 100% love and grace. Now when we think about those four letters, W.W.J.D, it is my prayer that we can rely on the power of the Holy Spirit to guide us in showing Jesus’s grace and truth in all that we say and do.

In closing, I want to share these words from John 1:14, 16-17:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth… For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

 

[Megan Stephenson is a recent graduate of Grand Valley State University and works for a private education group in Grand Rapids as an Assistant Registrar. She loves spending time with her husband, Ben, trying out new breweries, restaurants, and local attractions. She also self-identifies as a crazy cat lady, despite owning no cats of her own, thanks to her loving and allergic husband.]

How to Bring Peace to Your City

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

Though I’ve lived in Grand Rapids my whole life, I’m in the process of moving for the fifth time in three years. This time though, it’s different, because I’ve bought a place and plan to live there for the foreseeable future. I’m excited, certainly, but there’s a bit of trepidation--I’ve never lived by myself like this, I don’t know anyone who lives in the neighborhood, and I’m wondering how long, and exactly what it will take, for it to really feel like home. 

Photo Credit: Flickr User justinrazmus, Creative Commons

My current housing transition made me listen to the story of God’s people as found in Jeremiah 29 in a different way. They’re living as exiles in Bablyon, having been ripped away from their home city of Jerusalem. If I were in their situation, I don’t think I would receive God’s words to them in Jeremiah 29:7 with a very positive attitude:

Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.

Here the people are, living where they absolutely do not want to be, and God tells them to settle in, put down roots, and invest in their community. What? It seems like the type of situation to be simply endured, not one to be embraced. But God tells them to do just that. He allowed them to be taken into exile, and he had work for them to do during that time.

Our situations may not be the same as the exiles living in Babylon, but God’s words to them hold truth for us wherever we are and whatever our circumstances are. There’s a line in the Mumford and Sons song “Hopeless Wanderer” that seems so fitting--“I will learn to love the skies I’m under.” God has us where we are for a reason, and whether we like that place or not, we have a mission: To love where we are and to seek its good.

Seeking peace and prosperity for an entire city is, perhaps, a daunting task. So I love that God’s tasks for the people, as outlined in Jeremiah 29:5-6, don’t necessarily call for crazy, outlandish things. 

Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease.

God doesn’t tell them to immediately start out and take the city by storm with all their good deeds. First, he gives them specific examples of actions they can take to seek the peace and prosperity of the city. Some of us may be called to start seeking peace for our city in big, bold ways--by partnering with or starting a food pantry or ministry for homeless people, or running for city council--and others may be called to start in smaller ways. We can start where we are, by looking for the needs of others that we come across every day. 

Cities do need big movements, too. We need people who will stand up for injustice in bold ways. We need people who volunteer their time and give prayer and financial support to organizations who are helping to bring about good in our community. We need people who invest in the lives of the people around them and work as God’s ambassadors to bring healing, whether it’s physical, emotional, or spiritual. 

For me, I’m hoping to start by meeting my next door neighbors, and then others from there. While I consider myself a friendly and outgoing person, walking up to strangers and saying hello isn’t something I’m totally comfortable with, but I’m going to try. Will learning my neighbor’s name change the city of Grand Rapids? Of course not, not on its own. But big changes find their starting place in the little things. One person meeting their neighbor might not change a city, but what about a hundred people meeting their neighbors? And then taking the next step of really getting to know their neighbors? And then brainstorming, with their neighbors, of the ways they can create positive change on their street, or the next street over? What effect might that have on the city of Grand Rapids?

How can you start this week?

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Long Enough

 [The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my own rough layover: a very special four-hour-two-toddler-post-bedtime-Detroit-airport night of magic. At one point, I caught sight of another passenger at our gate reading magazines, checking her phone, and enjoying an un-shared snack. Her calm, nonchalant attitude was the perfect foil for my frazzled frustration. To see how well someone else was handling a situation I was finding to be increasingly unmanageable gave me...feelings. Feelings of inferiority. Feelings of jealousy. Feeling incompetent to manage the way she was.  

Through the story of the Exodus, we see the people of Israel struggling with the wilderness, with their own layover, while Moses maintains a deep faith and close walk with God, trusting and seeking Him. If I had been an Israelite, I imagine I may have felt my belief was inferior or incompetent compared to Moses’ titanic faith through the wilderness time.

Photo Credit: Flickr user Vanessa Vortex

Many of the stories that we are comfortable and familiar with from the Israelites time leaving Egypt and in the wilderness leave Moses looking like he has super faith: patient in the waiting, taking his complaints to God, leading the people to Him. Did God give Moses an extra dose of faith - like everyone gets one nugget of faith, but Moses got a wheelbarrow full? Or is there more here? Why does his time in the wilderness look so different from everyone else’s? When I was younger, it seems (whether I heard my teachers correctly or not) that people like Moses were held up as examples for us to emulate because they were so impressive. The only problem is...I’m so not Moses. I feel pretty regular, not very super.

In my own life, in seasons of wilderness, I’ve run into people whose faith I admire, but it seems somehow on a completely different level from my own. Sometimes when I’m struggling my way through a layover season (complaining, demanding things from God I just know I need, squirming under discipline instead of learning), I talk with or hear about someone who is just Moses-ing it up in their similar wilderness: joyful and hopeful while I’m angry and frustrated, seeking God while I’m complaining, having peace while I battle. I admire their faith, that deeper, closer walk with God and I wish I were the same. But, as with Moses, I seem to ascribe their closeness to just a “better” faith, leaving me attempting to pull myself up by my bootstraps and “do better.” The cynic inside me has doubted that I would ever have a heart that seeks God the way theirs does.

Pastor Dirk reminded us this week that Moses didn’t just show up with this faith. Moses had already been in the wilderness, long before the forty years he would spend there with the Israelites. He had already met God and listened to Him in a period of life that wasn’t what he had intended or planned: his own layover. I tend to only think of Moses as an uber-faith-person; I forget that he was a murderer on the run, hiding and fearful, who needed to be restored and matured. Yet God grew Moses in the same ways He would grow Israel and that He grows us: in the layover, in the wilderness, in the waiting.

Over the last few weeks, we've heard encouragement about these biblical seasons of layover; but it's still hard to fight the feeling of just wanting to move on! This week we talked about moving on - in God’s time.

When I'm in a literal layover, I just want to get out; any plane to anywhere will do. Right? When God has me in a life layover, I tend to feel the same: praying that God would just end it, move me on, bring me to out of the wilderness and into new things - any new thing will do. But instead of a quick exit, perhaps it’s better to ask, “What is God showing me in this layover? How is He changing me? Where do I need to grow? How can I seek God in this layover instead of trying to hurry out of it?”

It’s in the wilderness that God trains and raises us up; it’s where the Spirit matures us. Instead of growing cynical about my own slow and immature heart when I encounter people who seem as faithful as Moses, I should ask those very people the stories of where they have come from, and find comfort in hearing how God grows us in the hard times.

When God invites me into the times of learning and waiting, I want to find peace in waiting for Him to work in me. Am I learning, growing, letting God shape and mold my heart?

God works in our hearts in the layover, moving us from immaturity to maturity, from slavery to freedom. There’s growth in the layover! When His purposes are accomplished, He will tell us we have stayed long enough, and it’s time to move on.

(Enjoy reflecting with the song Great Things by Elevation Worship!)

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, especially humility and patience.]

Pain at Just the Right Time

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I have only been grounded once in my life, and it is one of the most vivid memories from my teenage years. As a fifteen-year-old girl, I thought I was in love with an eighteen-year-old boy and would do anything to see him, even though my parents had set strict boundaries around our time spent together. We were supposed to be in a large group of people in a public place or at a friend’s house—never alone and never in private.

I decided it would be a good idea to tell my parents that I was going for a run [I am not a runner… the fact that I thought this would work is still comical]. So, I left my house and went for a jog until I was far enough away from home that my “boyfriend” could meet me alongside the road. After a few minutes of talking, I saw my parents’ very distinct black SUV pulling up behind us and my dad rolled down the window… and the rest is history. At the time, it didn’t seem like my dad had my best interest in mind—after all, I just wanted to spend time alone with the boy I “loved.” Looking back now, I can appreciate my father’s perspective; he knew that this older boy was going to hurt me and he was simply trying to save me from unnecessary pain. Being grounded was the right discipline given at the right time.

In a similar way, God kept the Israelites in a “layover” period in order to protect them from their own sinful ways. While the Israelites simply wanted a change in geography and diet, God saw the root of their problem—rejecting the Lord who was among them (Numbers 11:20). He decided to give them what they wanted, food other than manna, just not in the way that the Israelites had expected. The Lord brought an overabundance of quail from the sea and let them fall around the camp. Even those who gathered the least collected approximately 4,000 pounds of quail!

However, because the Israelites had rejected the Lord, they were subject to God’s discipline—the kind of discipline that had their best interest in mind. Numbers 11:33 says, “While the meat was yet between their teeth, before it was consumed, the anger of the Lord was kindled against the people, and the Lord struck down the people with a very great plague.”



Photo Credit: Tristan Colangelo

God struck down the Israelites with a great plague in order to rescue them, and in the same way He also reaches into our lives in order to save us from our sinful behaviors. In an attempt to rescue us from the stronghold that sin has on our lives, our Heavenly Father can use pain as a way to share His grace and provide for His children. Rather than fighting the pain or ignoring the promptings of the Holy Spirit in our lives, we need to learn from the pain. It might be just the right amount of pain at just the right time, sent from a God who desperately wants to rescue us and bring us back to Him.

[Megan Stephenson is a recent graduate of Grand Valley State University and works for a private education group in Grand Rapids as an Assistant Registrar. She loves spending time with her husband, Ben, trying out new breweries, restaurants, and local attractions. She also self-identifies as a crazy cat lady, despite owning no cats of her own, thanks to her loving and allergic husband.]

When What You Want Isn't What You Need

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

There’s a worship song we sing pretty regularly at Encounter that I struggle with at times. Called “Always,” it includes these words:

Oh, my God, He will not delay  

My refuge and strength always 

I will not fear, His promise is true 

My God will come through always, always

One Sunday after singing it, I remarked to a friend that I wasn’t sure I bought it. At that point in my life, it seemed as though God was either moving really, really slowly, or perhaps not at all. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe God was there, but it was difficult to see how and where he was working. When we’re in a layover season in life, a time of uncertainty, disappointment, loss, heartbreak, change, or any number of other things that seem to keep us from moving from one place to the next, it can feel like “He will not delay” is a bit of a lie.

Photo Credit: Flickr User netcfrance, Creative Commons

In Numbers 11, we find the Israelites at the very beginning of a forty-year layover. When the people start complaining about the lack of a diverse diet within the first few weeks, Moses knows he’s in for a long, difficult time as their leader. Instead of sending fruit baskets and pizza and ice cream to alleviate the grumbling though, God gives Moses...a committee. It was likely not the answer Moses had been hoping for. Our natural reaction to a layover is to ask God to get us out of it, and that seems to have been Moses’ hope as well.  Yet, God’s reason for sending a committee is an important one. In verse 17 he tells Moses:

I will come down and speak with you there, and I will take some of the power of the Spirit that is on you and put it on them. They will share the burden of the people with you so that you will not have to carry it alone.

Instead of making Moses bear the weight of an entire community’s layover experience on his own, God gave him people to share it with. The Bible doesn’t tell us what the leaders prophesied about a few verses later, but I doubt it was all the same message given in the exact same words. And while we don’t get filled in on what Moses was thinking and feeling as this happened, I hope he was able to appreciate what God was doing by surrounding him with people. During a layover it’s tempting to ask God to get us out of it, but what if instead our question was, What does God have for me in this layover? And what if sometimes his answer is a committee?

If God gives us a committee, it can be difficult to let other people into complicated, messy spaces with us. We might feel like they’ll judge or blame us for being where we are, or offer words meant to help but that instead bring hurt. Those are the unpleasant sides of dealing with other humans, because nothing will ever go completely smoothly in any relationship. But we shouldn’t let fear hold us back from reaching out to the people who have proven themselves trustworthy. God put them in our lives for a reason. Having a committee didn’t fix all of Moses’ problems--it didn’t remove them from the desert or immediately make meat appear--it was, though, a tangible reminder from God that Moses was not alone in his problem. When we are in a layover, or when we are sitting with other people in their layover, presence may be all the solution we will get or are able to offer.

At times though, we have the opportunity to see layover circumstances in a different way than the people who are in the midst of them. I don’t remember my friend’s exact response to my lament that God seemed to be delaying, but it revolved around the idea that maybe God’s definition of “will not delay” is different than my own. For a God who is bigger than my linear, human understanding of time, “not delaying” could be a week from now, two years from now, or not in my lifetime at all. It wasn’t the reminder I wanted at that time, but it was the one I needed. If we let it, good, healthy, Christ-like community can function for us this way--helping us see what we may not be able to on our own and reminding us that God is who he says he is and he will do what he says he will. What we want from a layover isn’t always the same as what we need.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Layovers

 [The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

Pastor Dirk spoke about layovers this Sunday – I’ve been through my share of unfortunate airport hang-ups, but I discovered the low point of layovers during a four hour wait in Detroit with two post-bedtime (but not sleeping) toddlers. Layovers are no-one’s favorite part of a journey.

In Numbers 11:4-15, we find the Israelites in a layover. They were stuck in the desert, waiting. They were God’s chosen people, on their way out of slavery and headed to the Promised Land; but in Numbers 11, they are parked in the wilderness for a season. A forty-year season. 

Photo Credit: Flickr user Mike Boening Photography

The Israelites began to grumble and complain, because they didn’t have the things they thought they deserved or wanted or felt they needed. In the desert, God sustained them with manna; the people wanted something more. (Meat; they were grumbling because everyone needs a chicken nugget to go with their bread from heaven.) The people weren’t complaining because of unmet needs – they were complaining because they were looking for something more, something different. They longed for their old way of life – slavery! – romanticizing how good they had it back in Egypt. Their complaining and desire to just get out of the wilderness revealed hearts that were not looking to trust God, or to see what He might have for them right there in the layover.

Every day, without fail, God was meeting their needs, sustaining them. They didn’t ever wake up wondering what they would eat to survive – God provided manna every day.

In the Numbers 11 story, the Israelites were too focused on their desires and their grumbling to be aware of the goodness of God in the wilderness. Does this happen to us as well?

In my own life, when God has invited me into a layover, it’s so easy to wallow in the sadness, emptiness, and loneliness of all that is missing. Whether I complain with my loud mouth, or just inside my head, it’s easy to get lost in what I think I’m missing.

When we moved to South Carolina, I felt like I was in the wilderness. We lived in the middle of nowhere, family life was complicated by a miscarriage, and even at our fantastic church we were extras - unneeded youth volunteers. I spent some months confused, complaining (sometimes to God (useful!), sometimes to Caleb (not useful…)), looking for ways out. But God had unexpected treasures for me in that wilderness – a time of rest and restoration, a time for new steps of faith and different avenues of service and obedience, a time to learn about love from a thriving Christ-centered community.

I almost missed out on all of those beautiful – different - things because I wasn’t looking for what God was doing; I was looking for what I wanted, the things I was used to.

In Hosea, God speaks to the idea of waiting in the layovers:

“Therefore, I am now going to allure her [Israel]; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her.” Hosea 2:14

Through Hosea, God was telling the nation of Israel about their rebellion, and comparing His plan to win them back to the time they had spent wandering before entering the Promised Land. I’m astounded by this passage; the wilderness isn’t an accident or a problem!

The layover – the wilderness – isn’t a scheduling mistake by God; He plans the layover because He has something there for us.

In Deuteronomy, Moses reminds the people of everything before they head into the Promised Land at the end of their forty-year desert layover; he warns them about the abundance that is coming:

“When the LORD your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to give you – a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, and olive groves you did not plant – then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the LORD who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.” (Deuteronomy 6:10-12)

Moses is reminding the Israelites that when they come out on the other side of this long layover, they will have all the things they were crying out for – all of that and more! And yet, in that abundance, they will be prone to forget God. The wilderness was the place where they were most aware of God and His goodness; receiving everything they thought they wanted would tempt them to forget Him.

In the daily needs of the wilderness, they learned of God’s goodness. They learned that God was the only source for all of their needs. As He was faithful day after day, He invited them to trust Him.

We sometimes miss the good and gracious gifts of God when we are stuck with our eyes and hearts on our own waylaid plans during life’s layovers, unable to see the goodness of God as He cares for us. If instead we remember God’s faithfulness to us – that He has been good in the past, and we can trust Him to be good to us again – we will be in a position to let God allure us and speak to us in the wilderness. 

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, especially humility and patience.]