Interestingly enough, a couple weeks ago I also started reading the story of the Israelites' wandering years. Though they had been liberated from the Egyptians and had been able to overcome many obstacles with the LORD their God on their side, they whined and complained for what seemed like the entire 40 years.
What always struck me in this story was that those silly Israelites actually wanted to go back to Egypt.
They griped and wailed, saying, "We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost - also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite, we never see anything but this manna!"
In fact, just as soon as leaving Egypt, the Israelites wished they had died under Egyptian rule because at least there they had pots filled with meat and all the bread they wanted. Sure, they were dying in captivity, but at least they were well fed.
In fact, just as soon as leaving Egypt, the Israelites wished they had died under Egyptian rule because at least there they had pots filled with meat and all the bread they wanted. Sure, they were dying in captivity, but at least they were well fed.
Though I have never spent time being captive under a foreign nation, I do finally empathize with the Israelites' wishes to return to an "easier" life, however harsh and meaningless, because it was one where they never had to step up or take responsibility for anything. They forgot that they had cried out to God to rescue them from that life, they forgot that they had prayed for something more.
I can connect much better with the Israelites now that I have been wandering myself. I have been living in the in-between. Leaving something wanting more, but not yet being given the more.
I can empathize, too, with the spies who were sent in the promise land and came back warning their own of giants. I can understand how scary the promise land looks from the desert. God had been training the Israelites to be the type of people who could survive in the promise land, and still they complained, and still they cowered in fear, and still they lacked faith.
Man, how I hate to identify with these people. And I have been wandering for four years, not forty, in the comfort of home not through the wilderness. And my giants are only metaphorical, not beings that see me as a grasshopper.
But I am in the in-between. Though I called out to God for something more, I am now wanting to turn back to the place where the fish were free and the meat was plenty. Somehow nostalgia turned those into good times. And I am looking ahead to this scary new life where the bills and responsibilities and choices all look like giants. I need the faith of Caleb who looked at those giants and said, "Surely we can conquer them!" because he knew all that mattered was their trust in God.
God hasn't specifically promised me a future flowing with milk and honey, but he has promised me a life full and overflowing with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. I believe he has offered me a place in his story, and while it is overwhelmingly frightening to try and figure out where that is leading me, including possibly far from home, I want to follow.
I want to look at the giants and say, "Surely we can conquer them!" Because it doesn't matter who I am, but who I am following.
Now if only I could start living like I believe that.
I think I know what it looks like, though. Living on the manna of God's word, trusting in his provision and protection. Proving that I can be trusted with little so that I might be entrusted with much. Rebuking fear and not focusing on the size of the giants but on the size of my faith in a big, big God. Praying for faith like Caleb, reliance on God like Moses, and preparedness training for the promise land.
I want to get to there, wherever it is. But I won't get there by turning back or being afraid. I hope to somehow find contentment in this training ground of the in-between. I hope even more to walk courageously into the future, transformed because of my time wandering.
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