جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
From the 'Being F.I.T.' series at Shepherd Church
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
Wilderness seasons are part of every Christian's journey. They're the tough times when things aren't going the way you want them to—when prayers seem unanswered, grief feels overwhelming, or life simply isn't cooperating. The question isn't whether you'll face wilderness seasons, but how you'll navigate them when you do.
Many of us have experienced moments where we've done everything right. We've prayed. We've read the Bible. We've shown up and trusted God. And yet, everything still falls apart. What do you do when God's silent? What do you do when the healing doesn't come, the marriage doesn't improve, or your child keeps making destructive choices? What do you do when grief settles on your chest and refuses to leave?
Here's the first truth: The wilderness is not where God abandons you. The wilderness is where God forms you.
Throughout Scripture, we see God's greatest work accomplished in wilderness seasons. Moses spent 40 years in the wilderness before leading Israel. David wandered through the wilderness fleeing from Saul. Elijah journeyed through the desert when overwhelmed by discouragement. Even Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness before beginning His public ministry. God has a perfect track record of faithfulness in the wilderness, and He's not going to break it on you.
James, the brother of Jesus, gives us insight into this perspective. In James 1:2-4, he writes:
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, when you face trials of many kinds. Because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
At first glance, this seems impossible. Joy in trials? But James isn't telling us to feel joy in our circumstances. He's telling us to choose joy. Joy doesn't start with a feeling—joy starts with a focus.
When you discover joy, it's all about your circumstances. But as believers, we have insider information: we know someone. We know Jesus Christ, and He really, really loves us. If you truly know Him, you know that wilderness and trials are not new territory. God has been faithful throughout history, and He will be faithful to you.
The wilderness tests our faith to develop perseverance—but here's the key: perseverance isn't just something we produce through effort. James says, "Let perseverance finish its work." Notice that word: let. God isn't asking us to generate perseverance through sheer determination. He's asking us to get out of the way and let it work.
Consider the wilderness like an oven with heat and pressure. There are three wilderness truths:
Expect the oven. James doesn't say "if" you face trials—he says "when." Trials are part of life.
Don't keep opening the door. We want instant answers. We want to know the whole picture. But when we keep checking on our circumstances, we get unfinished results. Instead of trying to rush past difficult seasons, we should let God work through them.
Trust the baker. God knows what He's doing. Perseverance produces a perfect result that you cannot achieve any other way—not around it, not despite it, only through it.
James 1:12 tells us:
Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial. Because when they've stood the test, they will receive the crown of life that God promises to those who love him.
Notice the timing: James doesn't say "blessed when it's over" or "blessed once you get relief." He says the present tense—blessed is the one who IS persevering right now, in the middle of it, still standing.
Still standing is still winning. We celebrate finish lines and diplomas, but James celebrates the one in the middle of the trial who hasn't quit. There's a wholeness on the other side of the wilderness that you cannot get any other way. The wilderness isn't a detour from God's story for your life—for many of us, it IS the story.
Paul gives us three commands in Romans 12:12:
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
These aren't random. They're like dominoes—if you remove one, the others fall flat.
First: Be joyful in hope. Not joyful because your circumstances are good. Not joyful because people like you or agree with you. But joyful because God is good. There's a difference between "I'm fine because everything's fine" and "I'm not fine, but I know how the story ends in my life."
Second: Be patient in affliction. Paul doesn't say "be joyful in affliction." He's not asking you to slap a smile on real pain. He's asking you to choose not to quit. That is patience. When real affliction and real waiting come, we start negotiating with God, looking for the exit. Instead, we persevere.
Third: Be faithful in prayer. Think of prayer as a hallway connecting hope and patience. Without that hallway, hope becomes wishful thinking, and patience becomes just gritting your teeth with no oxygen. Prayer is how you grip the future while standing in the present. It keeps you connected to God until you reach the destination.
One of the hardest lessons is this: you don't have to walk through the wilderness alone. Many men—and others—try to carry their burdens in silence. We convince ourselves that admitting we're lost or struggling is weakness. But the truth is, wilderness seasons don't get navigated by not talking about them.
If you're in a wilderness today, here's what I've learned: Don't quit. Don't stop praying. Don't stop trusting. And whatever you do, don't walk alone. Tell your spouse. Tell a friend. Tell a pastor. Tell someone in your life group. Text or call someone. Let someone walk in the wilderness with you.
The biggest mistake I made in my wilderness was believing I had to be strong all by myself. Don't make that mistake. Shepherd Church has people available every week to talk and pray with you. You're not alone.
One day, you will look back and discover what I have: the very chapter you begged God to remove became the chapter He used the most in your life.
I lost my father 20 years ago, on November 11, 2005. I wouldn't have chosen that wilderness. There's not a Father's Day that goes by that I don't wish I could call him and tell him I love him, or that he could see my daughters, my grandchildren. But looking back now, I can see that in the places where God felt quietest, He was doing His deepest work. I was never alone, and neither are you.
The same God who walked with Moses in the wilderness, who sustained David in the wilderness, who strengthened Jesus in the wilderness—that same God is sitting with you right now in your wilderness. God will use your present situation in your future story for His glory.
