Remembering God’s Promises in the Wilderness

Lately I have seen many little reminders about gratitude and faith and hope. Little reminders of a story convicting yet inspiring. A story about a time not as joyful as the exodus from Egypt or the entrance into the Promised Land, but the waiting season in between.

The waiting season in the wilderness.

In the years after the Israelites had escaped their bondage, they frequently doubted God’s provision, oftentimes even wanting to go back to Egypt (See Numbers 11 and 14). The wilderness seemed rather lacking, and despite the miraculous bread that had fallen from heaven before every sunrise, their miserable past suddenly looked appealing.

Words that should have expressed praise for the parting of an ocean instead expressed a bitter longing to go backward.

And maybe the Israelites’ story seems like one too distinct from our own lives, but as little reminders of it constantly trickled into my heart, I finally realized something.

At certain moments, I’ve acted the exact same way.

I can’t count the amount of times in my life when I’ve found myself thinking, I just want my old life back.

I’ve longed for that “better” life, the life when I felt less tired all the time, or less anxious, or less alone…

But did I ever have that life?

What I’ve seen over the years is that life is never perfect (Eccl. 11:8). Perfect seasons never happen, yet God is faithful through them all.

My freshman cross-country season was amazing. I ran much faster times. Every Saturday evening I could take the race bib off my uniform and write a new PR on the back. I finished second in my age group at two invites, and I made all-league in girls’ varsity at conference finals.

Sophomore year, I couldn’t do any of that. My times got slower instead of faster. I didn’t break any PRs. I was too weak to even run conference finals.

Too often, I found myself wishing that I could go back to last year. And by the end of this season, I often found myself wishing that I could go back to the beginning, and approach my training in a different way, to maybe get a different ending.

Then I remembered why last year had felt so amazing. I entered high school with a comeback story. Going from last place as an eighth-grader in my final middle school track race to second place as a freshman in my first high school JV invite, well… the change seemed like a little miracle.

The change that had taken place in my heart felt even more miraculous.

I had emerged from a time when my physical, mental, and spiritual health had all hit their rock bottom. I had felt bound by chains, and I praised God for showing me how to run free.

It made me realize that I should still be praising Him for taking me out of my Egypt.

And now, I have to settle for running just to feel the dirt beneath my feet and the wind blowing in my hair, and to just be happy at that. I’ve had it taken away from me at times, and because of that, I know what it’s worth to even run at all.

Last year wasn’t perfect, either. An injury after conference finals prevented me from running the sectional meet.

But this year, I got to cross the finish line at sectionals, despite having to skip out on conference the week before. After the hard season, I was thankful to have enough strength to even run that race.

The season didn’t play out the way I had hoped or expected, but somehow I arrived at the end with these feelings of gratitude.

Being thankful through it all

We’ve all had those moments when the prayer wasn’t answered with a “yes.”

Yet when our plans don’t happen, when we don’t receive our longings, God still provides.

It may not be what we had asked, but He still provides. He’s still faithful.

In Numbers 11, the Israelites longed for the meat they had tasted back in Egypt so much that they became blind to the blessing of manna each morning.

I’ve had several moments in my life when it seemed I had knocked on a hundred doors that all remained shut.

The shut doors taught me to be thankful for where I stood. God had put me in my place for a reason. Those doors had remained shut for a reason, because I had to bloom where I was planted.

It’s easy to look back on a good season and feel grateful that it happened. It’s harder to look at a bad season and still come back with a good report, still see the good that can come out of it.

And it’s hard to remember God’s promises in the wilderness of a bleak situation.

When God finally opens the door, fear can overtake us. Longing can make us blind to His blessings, but fear can make us forget His promises.

Come the time to finally survey the long-awaited Promised Land, and of the ten warriors who entered, nine of them feared the enemies too much to believe that the land could become theirs.

Only one of them, Caleb, remembered that God had promised them this land. Only he had the faith that God was faithful in this promise, and only he came back with a good report.

“But Caleb quieted the people before Moses and said, ‘Let us go up at once and occupy it, for we are well able to overcome it.’ ³¹ Then the men who had gone up with him said, ‘We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we are.'”

~Numbers 13:30-31, ESV

The road of the Christian life requires such faith in God’s promises.

If God set your feet on this road, you’ve gotta trust that He’s gonna provide you with the strength to reach the end, no matter how many mountains stand in the way. No matter how much sunlight those mountains seem to cover, you’ve gotta trust that you’ll see the sun rise over their peaks.

It takes faith. And it takes hope. Hope that your circumstances will change, and that if they don’t, your heart will.

Taking on a hopeful outlook

A lot of times, we’re too scared to hope because we fear the pain of our hopes being crushed.

Here’s to all those who–after days, months, years of struggling–still wake up with every sunrise hoping that maybe, just maybe, today will be a brighter day.

Here’s to all those who still wake up with every sunrise trusting in the promise of daily bread and God’s grace.

And here’s to all those who still wake up with every sunrise ready to see the good in the driest parts of the wilderness.

“But my servant Caleb, because he has a different spirit and has followed me fully, I will bring into the land into which he went, and his descendants shall possess it.”

~Numbers 14:24, ESv

I remember holding my breath as I read this verse. A different spirit… Caleb had an entirely different outlook. A grateful one, a faithful one, a hopeful one.

More than being a place, I see the Promised Land as a lifestyle. One that we could experience if we adopted that same mindset.

The Israelites spent too much time longingly dwelling on their past instead of remembering their promised future.

And I’ve done the same.

What I’ve learned is that the past, whether by regret or longing, will hinder us if we let it. I’ve felt that all too much, and it has become my next burden to lay down at the cross.

“forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

~Philippians 3:13-14, ESV

But I also realized that looking on the past, with the right mindset, can encourage us. When I look back on my life, I can see God’s faithfulness. Sometimes those reminders are all that I need to keep pressing on.

This way of looking back reminds me of those verses in Deuteronomy, when Moses reminds the Israelites to remember all that God has done.

“So He humbled you, allowed you to hunger, and fed you with manna which you did not know nor did your fathers know, that He might make you know that man shall not live by bread alone; but man lives by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord. ⁴ Your garments did not wear out on you, nor did your foot swell these forty years. Know in your heart that, as a man disciplines his son, the Lord your God disciplines you.”

~Deuteronomy 8:3-4, NKJV

With every life struggle that I’ve gone through, I am reminded that my strength rests in Christ.

I believe that God allowed me to lose my physical strength all these times to humble me. To remind me that, truly, my strength rests in Him alone. When I get to caught in building up these successes, He takes me back ground zero, that I may rebuild on Him alone.

And many times, that’s why God takes us to the wilderness. He’s putting us through these struggles to help us run our best race, that we may one day cross that finish line into the Promised Land. That we may adopt the different spirit while on this earth, and someday feel the joy of eternity.

Remembering God’s faithfulness

Dwelling on the past presents us with an opportunity to see God’s faithfulness. In the weeks leading up to sectionals, I pulled out some sticky notes and scribbled down all the quotes and Bible verses I had repeated in my head during my races.

Each note had more than just words, but a whole story behind it. I stuck each one to the back of my closet door, and that closet became my place to go when I felt discouraged.

I could read all the notes on that door and remember all that I had endured. All that God had brought me through.

The night before the race, I went back and read my old blog posts. And my younger self encouraged me a bit. I smiled as my words revealed just how joyful I had felt about my God taking me out of my Egypt.

And then I went back and read my old prayers. The times I had poured my heart out before God in my moments of struggling.

I realized that, over the time since I had written them, all those prayers had received answers. Every single one.

I had forgotten about those prayers until then.

And that’s why I need to remember…

The God Who brought the Israelites out of Egypt is the same God Who provided for them in the wilderness.

And the God Who brought us out of our hardest moments is the same God Who sees us now.

May we never forget His faithfulness in the wilderness.

“The righteous shall inherit the land, and dwell in it forever.”

~Psalm 37:29, NKJV

Jesus’ blood made us righteous, that we can wake up with each sunrise and experience the fullness of all His blessings today. And that one day, we will dwell in eternity with Him forever.

As we’ve emerged out of a week of thanksgiving, I still want to thank God for all this, and more.

I’m thankful for the people who have stayed. All those who remained by my side in the harder moments, supporting me with the sort of Christlike love that cares for me even when I’m not at my best.

I’m thankful for the gratitude and faith and hope that have stayed. These unexplainable feelings that have managed to last in my heart over the years, because they’re feelings that only God can give.

And, more than anything, I’m thankful for the God Who stays. The God Who keeps His promises, even in the wilderness.