I’ve never really thought of myself as one to look back and long for Egypt. I’ve pretty much always been headed forward; aimed toward the holy city just over the horizon. I had no thoughts of going back. My promise wasn’t living there. I set my heart on pilgrimage many moons ago and the promise land has always been my goal.
I was in fervent pursuit of that land but somehow I found myself in a wilderness. It’s easy to lose your way in the wilderness. It can be hard to find God. To feel found. Good thing God is excellent at finding lost things. I know the wilderness is the way to a greater promise. It just doesn’t often feel like it. I can’t always see it. Some days I can’t even imagine it. I’ve walked this road long enough to know the wandering tendencies of God’s people and to recognize when I see them in me.
I think the thing that causes a person to want to go back is a lack of hope for what’s ahead. We’ve never been where we’re going and after years of wondering, it’s hard to picture anything better than what we’ve known. We don’t recognize that freedom isn’t behind us anymore, so we inadvertently long for slavery. We wouldn’t call it that, but anything that isn’t God’s will, that isn’t His new thing, enslaves us. It holds us captive and limits our growth.
So we fashion idols to pacify us, to hurry up the process, and to supply something to make us feel happy. Idols aren’t fun to talk about. I think that deep down we know that we all have them but we don’t like to name them. I have no ashera poles in my house. No snakes on sticks or cows of gold. You probably don’t either. But the lingering stakes that dug into the heart are often overlooked and excused. We hold onto them as an anchor, both bastard and inept, and the splintered pieces get deeply embedded.
If there is an altar of worship in each of our hearts, I’d have to admit that me, myself, and I often sit in the center of mine. I’m starting to think it’s not just me. Us people think about our interests and desires first and last every day and a million times in between. Oh hello…it’s me again. I’m on the other side of all of my fears…what I want…what I feel…what I dream…what I expect. I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how to get myself off for good. I climb down often but then seem to worm myself back up daily.
But the same altars that are meant for worship are also places of sacrifice. The sacrifice becomes a fragrant heart’s cry to the heavens. The problem is when we begin to worship what should be surrendered. So maybe that’s where I need to be. Maybe I should never take me off the altar. Maybe it’s the wilderness that teaches us to die. Maybe it’s the way to freedom and the only way to the promised land. And in the process, the destination becomes the One who was always journeying beside us. Maybe there’s nothing greater over the horizon than what He gives in this moment. Maybe the incense that waifs upward from our sacrifice is what puts our selfishness to death and brings us closer to the Father.
I think the root of any wilderness and bondage is not trusting God’s kindness. Expecting another hurtful blow. Trusting His hand but not trusting His heart. Bracing ourselves for the hammer. Maybe it’s time to see Him as a loving Father again. As Daddy God that “reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters” (Psalm 18:16). What if where I am is really where God wants me to be, and it really is for my benefit? What if it’s my perspective and my looking back that turn my present into a wilderness? Could it be that I will think back one day on this wilderness and instead of seeing the difficulty, I’ll only see the doorway to new freedom? Could it be that putting me on the altar has always been the key? That’s the sort of thing that only the kindness of God could do.