Spiritual Desert

Time in the wilderness is a tool our loving God has used for spiritual growth throughout the Bible. Can we benefit from being in the desert?

As we studied the responses from the 2024 Tidings Moms Survey, the phrase “spiritual desert” came up again and again. Those early years of motherhood really can feel like being exiled to the wilderness! Fortunately, the Bible has much to say about life in the desert, both naturally and spiritually. So, when we find ourselves there, we might be in good company.

What Is a Desert?

In natural terms, a desert is characterized by what it lacks. There is little to no natural growth and few human systems to provide for human needs. Life outside the desert is full of useful structures—structures we don’t even think much about to meet our basic needs. In Bible times, this would include walled cities with neighbors, wells and nearby farmland. All of these are lacking in the desert. In modern times we have created different structures to meet the same needs —electricity, running water, and Wi-Fi, for example.

Spiritually, we also create useful systems to help address each other’s needs. Our ecclesias meet regularly for study, worship, and fellowship. We have seasonal and yearly events and special activities for specific groups like teens or sisters. They are all helpful structures for civilized, non-wilderness life. But they are missing in the desert of new parenthood.

Suddenly, a young mom finds that the structures she was accustomed to have fallen from under her. Months can go by without a drop of spiritual sustenance. Sunday services can become a sleep-deprived nightmare of dodging dirty looks while shushing little ones if regular attendance is even possible. Events like study weekends or Bible schools go from enjoyable fellowship opportunities to grueling feats of endurance. (Please, please, please —never tell a mom of a toddler that being at Bible school is a glimpse of God’s Kingdom!) All these lovely structures, so helpful to our brothers and sisters who are not in the wilderness, can be less than useless for life in the desert.

Yet we know that time in the wilderness is a tool our loving God has used for spiritual growth throughout the Bible. Can we benefit from being in the desert?

Life in the Wilderness

Think of the various people who spent time in the wilderness. Moses and the children of Israel wandered forty years in the desert. David spent time in the wilderness both literally and spiritually when he was on the run from Saul. Elijah was sent to a lonely ravine by God, then later retreated to the desert again. In the New Testament, Jesus, Paul, and John the Baptist are all recorded as spending time alone in the desert.

These wilderness stories are instructive. In a surprising number of cases, the Bible records precise details about how people had their needs met while away from typical man-made systems. After the exodus from Egypt, for example, God’s provision of manna is carefully detailed (Exodus 16:14-36). Other familiar narratives describe the supply of quail (Exodus 16:11-13) and the regular provision of water (Exodus 15:22-27, 17:1-7, Numbers 20:2-6). When Elijah is sent to the wilderness, he is also given food directly from God using birds (1 Kings 17:5-6). Later, when he runs back to the desert to escape Ahab and Jezebel, we are specifically told an angel came to him with bread and water (1 Kings 19:5-6). Jesus’ time in the wilderness included fasting (Matthew 4:2), but we are also told how God provided angels (and, for some reason, wild animals, Mark 1:13) to accompany him.

These stories of life in the desert share some common threads. Sometimes, in the wilderness, away from man-made systems, God allows His people to suffer and lack. Other times, He provides for them directly.

There are times when we lack and times when God meets our needs directly. Could these be true of our own stretches in the desert?

A Personal Example

I know this was my story. Like many new moms, I was knocked flat by those days and years of early motherhood. I distinctly remember the moment I realized that if I was going to have any spiritual growth at all in the foreseeable future, I needed to find new ways to make it happen. If I was going to live in a spiritual desert, I needed to be fed directly from God.

For me, this looked like setting aside afternoon nap times for prayer and Bible study. I finally got serious about a prayer journal. When it was hard to relax my mind and body to pray, I got back into knitting to keep my hands busy. I love the memories of those quiet afternoons alone in my rocking chair, knitting and praying or exploring new Bible versions to read.

I began bringing a stroller to meeting on Sundays. If babies or toddlers were too cranky, we would just head outside. I learned to treasure those walks in the sunshine, praying alone while the youngest finally drifted off to sleep, finding a different kind of spiritual peace on a stressful Sunday morning.

Of course, these are just one mom’s wilderness survival strategies—specifically, a highly introverted mom with a loving, supportive husband and a fondness for handcrafts. Remember, Elijah didn’t receive manna, John the Baptist was not fed by ravens, and only Jesus was met by angels and animals. The ways that God meets you in the desert will be different from mine. But it is certain He can find a way to feed you Himself when you are snatched away from your comfortable, man-made systems.

Desert Reality

But there will still be times when we are lacking. The wilderness narratives of the Bible make that clear. We may be allowed to grow severely parched before God shows us the water. We may have to fast sometimes in the wilderness and simply go without. It is okay to admit that, even with manna direct from heaven, we still struggle in the desert.

One of the sons of Korah experienced time in a spiritual desert. 

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? (Psalm 42:1-2).1

Here, the Psalmist blends spiritual thirst with physical thirst. Sometimes, in the desert, we are just thirsty, and we can’t find God.

My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” (Psalm 42:3). 

There is something so poignant about this admission. Our times in the desert are so often made worse by the thoughtless words of people around us. Some things haven’t changed in 3,000 years.

These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One, with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng. (Psalm 42:4). 

In case we missed the metaphor, the Psalmist spells it out. This is not just a physical desert but a spiritual one, too. His (or maybe her?) non-wilderness life included meeting and worshipping with others. Here in the desert, all that is gone.

Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 42:5). 

This is life in a spiritual desert—times we lack, and times when we can be personally and directly fed by God.

Allured in the Desert

As a mom considering my own time in the wilderness, I think it may be fitting that perhaps the most beautiful Bible passage about desert life is specifically feminine. In the odd, romantic book of Hosea, God describes Himself as desiring to win back His bride. 

Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards… There she will respond as in the days of her youth. (Hosea 2:14-15).

The idea of being allured by the Almighty God is breathtaking enough, but look at the setting—in the wilderness! There, away from the traditional systems of spiritual activity, the bride can focus completely on the Bridegroom. There, He will allure and speak tenderly. And, of course, there, her needs will be provided for, this time with vineyards.

“In that day,” declares the Lord, “you will call me ‘my husband;’ you will no longer call me ‘my master.’” (Hosea 2:16). Somehow, there in the wilderness, a new level of intimacy is possible.

I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. I will betroth you in faithfulness, and you will acknowledge the Lord. (Hosea 2:19-20). 

Of course, Hosea’s Israel had completely different man-made religious systems, far more broken than ours. But the covenant of betrothal offered to her is the same one we have been amazingly privileged to join (Romans 9:24-26). It just may take some time in the desert.

I will show my love to the one I called ‘Not my loved one,’ I will say to those called “Not my people,” “You are my people;” and they will say, “You are my God.’” (Hosea 2:23). 

And so, however long your time in a spiritual desert, may you learn to be fed directly from God. May you survive the times of lack without losing your faith. And, perhaps, may you even be allured by Him and hear his tender words yourself, there in the wilderness.

Nancy Brinkerhoff,
Denver Ecclesia, CO