Why the Wilderness? (Part 1)

They had seen God’s leading, unmistakably clear in the pillars of cloud and of fire.  They had watched Him overcome every obstacle that threatened to undo them.  They had His promise – new life in a new land that He was going to give them.

But somewhere between Egypt and the Promised Land, they found themselves in a wilderness.  Wandering.  For forty years.

Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving.  And the people of Israel also wept again and said, "Oh that we had meat to eat!  We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.  But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at." (Numbers 11:4-6)

Can you hear the grumbling voices of two million people in the middle of a desert?  There is nothing at all but this miraculous, unfailing provision from God, and we are sick of it.  We want what we want.  We will weep and wail as if God is keeping the best from us, though it is actually because of His love that He has not given us these “lesser things”.

Astounding, isn’t it.

And somewhere in that sea of voices, I hear one that sounds frightfully like my own.  Oh, if only God hadn’t brought me here.  Oh, if I were only back in the States, where I ate cheese and meat and fresh green salads to my heart’s content.  It would have been easier if I had just stayed there.  Yes, He’s given me what I need for each day, but I’m tired of this manna.  I want something different.  Something more.

I have the audacity to ask for more?  To think His daily grace is not enough?

Yes.  I do.

I grumble.  I let a longing for what I used to have become idolatry.  And some days, I just can’t seem to keep myself from reminding God (over and over) how much I want to go back.

And the people spoke against God and against Moses: "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?  For there is no food and no water, and our soul loathes this worthless bread."  (Numbers 21:5)

Again, I hear myself.  I don’t actually speak the words, but I live like I believe them sometimes.  Yes, God, I know You give me exactly what I need for each day, but this isn’t what I want.  Worthless grace.

I stand among those millions, a modern-day Israelite, spurning the manna, wanting the leeks and garlic instead of the Promised Land.

How did they end up here, in the wilderness?  How did I end up here?