Wilderness

“To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the wilderness, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and great commandment nonetheless. Even in the wilderness - especially in the wilderness - you shall love him.”

― Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember: Uncollected Pieces

Whenever I think about Jesus in the wilderness for 40 days, I tend to remove his humanity. I mean, I’m human. And I cannot fathom going 40 days without food. I don’t even like to go half a day without food. So when I sit and force myself to consider his humanity in the wilderness, I get uncomfortable. How did he do it? Why did he do it? Exactly what was he doing for those 40 days? Did he try to distract himself from the hunger pangs? Did he ever pass out from low blood sugar? When I think of him in the wilderness, these are my real questions as a fellow human.

There’s so much we don’t know about Jesus’ life. So many moments untold. I wonder if he shared the details of those 40 days with his friends. Or were they sacred between him and his father? What I do know is that he did it. And he ended that time with a strength that allowed him to withstand the most tempting (but false promising) of offerings. And he emerged with clarity in his calling. Immediately, he began preaching and calling his disciples to follow him.

Thankfully, I’ve never felt God calling me to fast for a full 40 days. But that’s not to say I haven’t walked through wilderness seasons. I’ve felt the pang of emptiness. I’ve struggled to find energy. I’ve felt isolated, uncomfortable, and aimless. And when I’ve allowed myself to actually live in those places — not forcing a way out or salvaging crumbs or clinging to what’s no longer there — I have met God in a new way. I’ve been stripped of so many of the things that gave me comfort, validation, and affirmation. And I’ve slowly learned to rest in the very simple reality of being His. And finding that to be enough.

Whether you’re actively participating in Lent or you’ve been led into your own wilderness, I pray that you come face to face with the most true thing about youself: you are His.