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We have an incredible opportunity to hear from the Lord through His word and walk together on this spiritual journey. As we track what God is doing, I hope you find what we might call touch points—places where you identify where you are in your own spiritual journey and see what needs correction.
The reason God has recorded these events for us in Scripture is so we can see ourselves reflected in the Israelite spiritual journey. Human nature hasn't changed much in three or four thousand years, and these stories serve as warnings. As we're told later, "these things are recorded as examples for us so that we do not fall into the same traps and miss out on the great purpose of God in our own lives."
Israel had just crossed the Red Sea in a great celebration. Moses led them, and as the song declares: "For he has triumphed greatly; the horse and the rider he has thrown into the sea." As the Lord showed them the evidence of His powerful right hand shattering the enemy, He hoped this would factor into their collective conscience. When they faced the next challenge, they would remember what God had done and say: "That's what He did for us. We are facing something new, but God is equal to the task."
Much as He said this to the Israelites, He says it to us today. We will face our own challenges, but there should be enough cumulative evidence in your own life—times when God intervened in your situation—to give you confidence and faith. Even this new situation is not new to God. Within you is the ability to have faith and believe God to do great things. At the end of the day, that's what God seeks: "Can you trust me?"
If you can't, remember the price He paid for you. We've just commemorated the Lord's table, and He asks: "Do you think I could have paid such a horrendous price without a better plan for you? What is this that you're facing that is so challenging and daunting that you conclude I have abandoned you, that I'm not thinking about you?"
After a great victory, be on the lookout—that's the time of danger. After you've experienced the highs of the mountaintop when God has come and vanquished all enemies, when you're standing at a place of great joy and victory, there will come a time of testing. You can take that to the bank.
That time of testing, if you're not careful and don't harness your discipleship well, can be a time of rapid backsliding—back to a place of unbelief, fear, and anxiety. You begin to think no one is looking out for you; you have to depend on your own means. All the while, you forget the same God who watched over you and gave you victory in that situation has not changed, has not moved. His purpose will not deviate. He has a plan; He will get you there. But watch out: after a time of great victory, a test is coming.
In Exodus 15:22-25, after the songs of victory, Moses led the Israelites out from the Red Sea into the Wilderness of Shur. They went three days without finding water. When they came to Mara, they could not drink the water because it was bitter—it was even named Mara, meaning bitterness.
But listen to what happened: "The people grumbled against Moses." So soon after singing songs of praise, they returned to grumbling, asking, "What shall we drink?"
Moses cried to the Lord, and the Lord showed him a log or a tree or a piece of wood. He threw it into the water, and the same water became sweet. Then the Lord made a statute and a rule for them, saying:
"If you will diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God and do that which is right in his eyes and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians; for I am Jehovah Rapha."
This is the first time God reveals Himself by a divine name in this way—as Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. The Israelites had in recent memory the diseases inflicted on the Egyptians—the boils and all manner of diseases God brought upon them to subdue Pharaoh. Now God says: "I will be your healer."
It's an important landmark for the Israelites, and He remains Jehovah Rapha even today. He is God our healer. Everywhere Jesus went, He healed diseases and ailments and sicknesses—whether lepers, people born blind, or those born lame. He would speak, and they were healed. He raised the dead. He is God's Christ, the anointed one, who came to heal His people.
God led them into the desert, and after three days, there was no water. We later learn that God tested them—it was intentional. He took them through desert places where there was nothing to drink and where, soon, there would be nothing to eat. He wanted to know: "Can you still trust me when it appears there is nothing to eat or nothing to drink? When I take you to a desert place where nothing grows, do you trust that I still have a plan? That I'm not here to ruin you or destroy you? That somehow, though you can't see it, I will provide?"
Faith is the evidence of things hoped for, the substance of things not seen. If you have something you can touch and see, you don't need faith. Faith is believing that though circumstances tell you there is no provision, you have faith in a God that can be trusted—a God who doesn't change or waver. If He said He will do it, you don't have to see it for it to be there. But if you wait on Him, He will provide.
Three days without water in the desert is no small matter. For those who have traveled in Egypt toward the desert, you know it is hostile territory. You literally feel the liquids evaporating from your body. You know that if you're left there, you will surely die. So three days without water is quite something; humanly speaking, there would be reason to complain. And then God leads them to a place where water exists but is undrinkable—bitter, named Mara after its bitterness.
This is intentional. God doesn't do anything that doesn't have a purpose or a design, even what looks illogical and difficult. He takes them through this desert experience where there is no provision, then to a place where water cannot be drunk. They have already begun to grumble and complain, and God gives them a visual of what they look like from His side: anxious, unbelieving people who are of a bitter taste to the mouth and heart of God.
They grumble; they cannot drink the water. But there is a solution. Moses cries out to God, does what is right, and God shows him a log or a tree or a piece of wood. He casts it into the water, and the same water becomes sweet and drinkable again.
You cannot help but see a foreshadowing of the Gospel here. Somewhere in the far future, there will be another tree on which a man will hang—that man carrying the anger, bitterness, and anxiety of a community of people. It will be heaped upon Him. For you and me who go to that tree with our anxiety, anger, and unbelief, and cast it on the cross of Jesus, what happens? We come out sweet—able to commune with God, able to be unedited before Him, able to worship Him, able to be thankful for who He is and what He has become. Why? Because He has taken away our bitterness.
God was showing these people a visual: If you don't trust me, you are unpalatable to me. We cannot commune with you because you're like the waters of Mara—unbelieving, anxious, angry. We can't walk together. So Moses casts the log into the water, making it sweet, and they drank. It became sweet again.
You and I have reasons to complain. Many reasons. There are always reasons to complain. First, in Kenya, it was drought; we were sure it would kill us. Now the rains are here, and because God is good, we will have plenty of water. But then we'll complain about water washing things away, destroying crops. We know how to do that.
We need to guard our hearts. The road from the place of victory to a place of grumbling is a very slippery slope, and it begins a rapid backsliding because of the posture of our hearts. Look at what happens: "The Lord made for them a statute and a rule." There's an intention—He was taking them to the bitter water to see a reflection of themselves.
"If you will diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God and do that which is right in his eyes and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians; for I am the Lord your healer."
He's inviting us to come for healing, to have faith in Him so that this journey doesn't have to be difficult or tedious. From this point onward, God begins to form a picture of the kind of people He's dealing with. It will be an acrimonious relationship if they remain unbelieving. He says: "It doesn't have to be this way. We can have a better journey—a journey of true friendship and communion, a journey where you trust me and I lead you well, where I provide for you and you give thanks to me. I already intend to provide for you. It's not something I'm making up as I go; it's part of the journey. For I am the God who heals you."
Then they came to Elim, where there were 12 springs of water and 70 palm trees, and they encamped there by the water. Elim was always there. It was part of the journey—a place of refreshing. After three days' travel in the desert, they could have been taken straight there. But God needed to deal with the state of their hearts.
Mara represents an unbelieving, anxious community unable to trust God. Elim represents the abundant provision of God even to unbelieving people. It's available. God would like to avoid Mara and take us straight to Elim. But He gauges where we are in terms of our ability to trust Him. If we can credit Him for who He is—a good, loving, kind, and gracious God—and not read every situation back to Him ("You brought us to the desert to kill us; were there no graves in Egypt?"), then we understand His intention.
The times of hardship, adversity, isolation, and wilderness wandering are brought about by God. They are intentional. He brings us into those spaces to mold our character. If we would be submitted to His leadership and trusting, He will make us into the people He intends us to be.
Remember, He's molding us into a people of faith, a peculiar nation. He says:
"You are a holy nation, you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, people belonging to God, that you should call out the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light. You are My spokespeople; you are My ambassadors to a needy and hurting world. I want you to reflect My glory, My peace, My love, My provision, and My kindness so that others will desire what you already have."
So the last thing on our lips should be grumbling and complaining, anxiety and unbelief. That's very unattractive to unbelievers, and worse, it tells lies about who God is:
Every time you grumble and complain, you communicate these lies. God doesn't get any credit from us when we behave this way. God is crying out for us to be a people who are submitted and moldable so that we can go straight into Elim and be refreshed. Others, seeing us, will see what a glorious people we are—a lucky congregation of people who trust in their God, who are led by their God. They don't care whether they're in the desert because their God provides shade for them. He covers them and provides water even in a dry and wasteful land.
"They came to Elim where there were 12 springs of water and 70 palm trees and they encamped there by the water."
May God give us grace not just to enjoy the journey but to enjoy the journey even during the tests as we anticipate the Elim seasons. Yes, we are going through a parched and dry ground, but guess what? I know God has a plan, and we credit Him for that.
In Exodus 16, they set out from Elim, and all the congregation came to the Wilderness of Sin. This name isn't sin as in moral failure; it's associated with Sinai. This is another really harsh desert—even harsher than the last. Sand stretches as far as the eye can see; you literally see heat shimmering, the kind of place where mirages form. It's rocky, dry, terrible. Scorpions, snakes, and all kinds of dangers exist there. Very, very harsh.
Again, it's very intentional. God has this pattern of leading the people He chooses, the people He loves, the people He's molding into desert places where nothing grows. Think about it: the kind of people we are, we're easily immersed in comforts, conveniences, and provisions that God generously gives. But in those environments, we hardly ever hear God because the trappings of power, authority, and privilege make it so easy to trust in those things rather than in God.
But when God is very intentional about you, He will lead you to desert places. And in desert places, you could be alone even though you're in a crowd—because of what you're going through. The places where we sometimes find ourselves, we've lost our jobs with no real reason, sometimes as a result of injustice. Other times the business doesn't do well; the bottom seems to fall from under us, and we're in free fall. Other times it's ailments and diseases. There could be times of isolation—whether for us or our loved ones.
I know how trying it has been for Reverend Mwanala and his wife caring for their mother, and I know from my own experience how difficult it was to care for my mother in her last days. Those are times of isolation. God pushes us to those seasons in our lives, and what happens there is that there's nothing to grasp. It's like God removes everything else except Himself.
In the desert place where nothing grows, you know that if you are to eat, it will take God. If you are to drink, it will take God—only Him. And He removes everything else so that it's you and Him. That's where the relationship of trust is forged. That's where you realize that whatever God has granted you—your job, career, gift, talent—these are secondary means of provision. They are not the main means. He is the Provider. Even those can be taken away, and even when they are, He remains true to who He is.
"I'm the God who provides for you. I'm God who is going to be your healer very soon. I will reveal Myself as the Bread of Life, your daily sustenance." We commemorated that by eating the bread and drinking the cup. "I am your sustenance. It comes from me."
Don't take lightly those seasons. Don't grumble about them. Go through them, hopefully with a sweet spirit, trusting God and knowing that you're in this place for a reason. Thank God for the situation you find yourself in and thank God that He will provide even in a dry and thirsty land.
For the Israelites, they will eat and drink. They'll never have to plant a thing. They'll never witness a river, and yet they'll drink. God was teaching them: "I am your sustenance. I'm your life. I'm your everything."
In a desert, there's nothing to hold on to, nothing to cling to. You can't plant; you can't grow. God teaches you: "I am all that you eat. If you have me, then you have everything you need."
Remember His intention: to take them to Canaan, the land flowing with milk and honey, where everything they need will be provided. There will be bread. Even the hills will have iron and copper in them. Anything they need will be provided. But they might quickly think that's where their sustenance comes from and forget the God who took them to Canaan.
Let's be careful in our spiritual journey. Let's acknowledge God for who He is—our Provider even in the days of plenty and great abundance.
Remember Jacob. He stole the birthright from his brother Esau and became exceedingly rich because the rights of the firstborn brought blessings and abundance from heaven. He came back a very wealthy man with many flocks and properties. But at one point, he realized: "This is nothing if I do not have the blessing of God."
So he crossed at the Jabbok, sent everything he owned—his wives, children, flocks, everything—and was left alone with God on the other side. That's the place of wrestling with God. When there's nothing that defines you except your relationship with God, that's where true wrestling happens.
God not only overpowered him; He injured him. By just a touch of God's finger, God dislocated his hip, yet God wrestled with him all night. Some have reflected that part of that wrestling was meant to exhaust him, because Jacob was a self-made man, a go-getter—a modern guy who would shoot right to the top by any means possible. But God wanted to redefine him because he was not dependent on God.
When God touched his hip, He redefined who Jacob was. God asked him: "What's your name?" Imagine asking an adult man what's his name. He should know. Jacob said, "My name is Jacob," and God renamed him Israel. You see, at one point Jacob had tried to steal his brother's identity, telling his father "My name is Esau" to get the birthright. God wanted him to know: "You don't have to be anything other than what I've made you. I can bless you as you are. Your name is Jacob, but from this point onwards, you shall be Israel."
It's amazing what God made out of that man. As he advanced toward his brother, he couldn't run away because his hip was dislocated. He just hobbled alone, slowly. The Bible says that as he crossed to a certain place, the sun rose on him. He called the place Peniel. It's a beautiful picture of the sunrise on this elderly man limping along, not able to run, not able to protect himself from his quote-unquote hostile brother—but with the grace of God shining on him. He became an entire nation.
He had to send away everything he had and remain alone with God to be defined by God. It's amazing what can be achieved when we look for our definition not from things, people, property, positions, powers, and privileges, but alone with God, asking Him: "Define who I am. Tell me who I am." He said, "I won't let go until you bless me."
As we finish today, I want you to remember something: a lot of the quarreling and grumbling of the Israelites against God did not have to do with very important things. It was about bread and water—food, basic needs. They were unable to trust God for very basic needs, and this poisoned their relationship with Him.
I want you to think about your own journey. What are the things that come between you and God? When you're angry, when you quarrel, when you're bitter, when you're untrusting—many of us even threaten to leave the faith as though that would change God. You walk out on God when you do those things. What are the real causes?
I've never had somebody say, "God, if you cannot guarantee me eternity, I'm walking out. I want to know for sure that I'll be with you forever." People don't fight about important things. It's about food to eat, clothes to wear, water to drink—basic needs.
Jesus said these are not even things you need to pray about. Your Father in Heaven already knows you need them. "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." He pointed to the birds of the air: They don't plant, don't sow, don't have granaries where they store things, yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. "Are you not more important than this?"
That's not what defines you. Those are basic needs. Jesus even said: "I don't even have a home. The Son of Man does not have a place to lay His head. Even foxes do better than I."
There's a bigger picture—a much bigger picture. I pray you would have courage to trust God for things that really matter and not quarrel with God because you're not provided for adequately according to your own definition. Many times, that lack of provision is seasonal. You're just transitioning from Mara to Elim. There will be provision in Elim because the whole story of your life hasn't been written yet.
Don't allow yourself to be defined by the time of the season of adversity, the season of sorrow, the season of lack. It's a small picture. This is a much bigger picture. God is molding us into a beautiful community of faith that can be a testimony to others out there who not only don't have provision but don't even have a God they can call Father as you do, as I do. They don't have a place of sanctuary to run that is reliable, that is rock solid like Jesus is.
Let's watch our hearts. Let's take responsibility for our discipleship. Let's avoid the backsliding. And if you're at a place of great victory, watch out for the test—because it's coming.
When it does, may the Lord find you sweet in communion with Him. May He take you straight to Elim because He knows that you trust Him, that in your heart of hearts you know that whatever He has for you is good. He has a good plan for you. This is a destination that nothing will keep you from arriving at. That is your destiny.
May you give Him glory for the season of life that you are in right now.
In Jesus' name, amen.
We have an incredible opportunity to hear from the Lord through His word and walk together on this spiritual journey. As we track what God is doing, I hope you find what we might call touch points—places where you identify where you are in your own spiritual journey and see what needs correction.
The reason God has recorded these events for us in Scripture is so we can see ourselves reflected in the Israelite spiritual journey. Human nature hasn't changed much in three or four thousand years, and these stories serve as warnings. As we're told later, "these things are recorded as examples for us so that we do not fall into the same traps and miss out on the great purpose of God in our own lives."
Israel had just crossed the Red Sea in a great celebration. Moses led them, and as the song declares: "For he has triumphed greatly; the horse and the rider he has thrown into the sea." As the Lord showed them the evidence of His powerful right hand shattering the enemy, He hoped this would factor into their collective conscience. When they faced the next challenge, they would remember what God had done and say: "That's what He did for us. We are facing something new, but God is equal to the task."
Much as He said this to the Israelites, He says it to us today. We will face our own challenges, but there should be enough cumulative evidence in your own life—times when God intervened in your situation—to give you confidence and faith. Even this new situation is not new to God. Within you is the ability to have faith and believe God to do great things. At the end of the day, that's what God seeks: "Can you trust me?"
If you can't, remember the price He paid for you. We've just commemorated the Lord's table, and He asks: "Do you think I could have paid such a horrendous price without a better plan for you? What is this that you're facing that is so challenging and daunting that you conclude I have abandoned you, that I'm not thinking about you?"
After a great victory, be on the lookout—that's the time of danger. After you've experienced the highs of the mountaintop when God has come and vanquished all enemies, when you're standing at a place of great joy and victory, there will come a time of testing. You can take that to the bank.
That time of testing, if you're not careful and don't harness your discipleship well, can be a time of rapid backsliding—back to a place of unbelief, fear, and anxiety. You begin to think no one is looking out for you; you have to depend on your own means. All the while, you forget the same God who watched over you and gave you victory in that situation has not changed, has not moved. His purpose will not deviate. He has a plan; He will get you there. But watch out: after a time of great victory, a test is coming.
In Exodus 15:22-25, after the songs of victory, Moses led the Israelites out from the Red Sea into the Wilderness of Shur. They went three days without finding water. When they came to Mara, they could not drink the water because it was bitter—it was even named Mara, meaning bitterness.
But listen to what happened: "The people grumbled against Moses." So soon after singing songs of praise, they returned to grumbling, asking, "What shall we drink?"
Moses cried to the Lord, and the Lord showed him a log or a tree or a piece of wood. He threw it into the water, and the same water became sweet. Then the Lord made a statute and a rule for them, saying:
"If you will diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God and do that which is right in his eyes and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians; for I am Jehovah Rapha."
This is the first time God reveals Himself by a divine name in this way—as Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. The Israelites had in recent memory the diseases inflicted on the Egyptians—the boils and all manner of diseases God brought upon them to subdue Pharaoh. Now God says: "I will be your healer."
It's an important landmark for the Israelites, and He remains Jehovah Rapha even today. He is God our healer. Everywhere Jesus went, He healed diseases and ailments and sicknesses—whether lepers, people born blind, or those born lame. He would speak, and they were healed. He raised the dead. He is God's Christ, the anointed one, who came to heal His people.
God led them into the desert, and after three days, there was no water. We later learn that God tested them—it was intentional. He took them through desert places where there was nothing to drink and where, soon, there would be nothing to eat. He wanted to know: "Can you still trust me when it appears there is nothing to eat or nothing to drink? When I take you to a desert place where nothing grows, do you trust that I still have a plan? That I'm not here to ruin you or destroy you? That somehow, though you can't see it, I will provide?"
Faith is the evidence of things hoped for, the substance of things not seen. If you have something you can touch and see, you don't need faith. Faith is believing that though circumstances tell you there is no provision, you have faith in a God that can be trusted—a God who doesn't change or waver. If He said He will do it, you don't have to see it for it to be there. But if you wait on Him, He will provide.
Three days without water in the desert is no small matter. For those who have traveled in Egypt toward the desert, you know it is hostile territory. You literally feel the liquids evaporating from your body. You know that if you're left there, you will surely die. So three days without water is quite something; humanly speaking, there would be reason to complain. And then God leads them to a place where water exists but is undrinkable—bitter, named Mara after its bitterness.
This is intentional. God doesn't do anything that doesn't have a purpose or a design, even what looks illogical and difficult. He takes them through this desert experience where there is no provision, then to a place where water cannot be drunk. They have already begun to grumble and complain, and God gives them a visual of what they look like from His side: anxious, unbelieving people who are of a bitter taste to the mouth and heart of God.
They grumble; they cannot drink the water. But there is a solution. Moses cries out to God, does what is right, and God shows him a log or a tree or a piece of wood. He casts it into the water, and the same water becomes sweet and drinkable again.
You cannot help but see a foreshadowing of the Gospel here. Somewhere in the far future, there will be another tree on which a man will hang—that man carrying the anger, bitterness, and anxiety of a community of people. It will be heaped upon Him. For you and me who go to that tree with our anxiety, anger, and unbelief, and cast it on the cross of Jesus, what happens? We come out sweet—able to commune with God, able to be unedited before Him, able to worship Him, able to be thankful for who He is and what He has become. Why? Because He has taken away our bitterness.
God was showing these people a visual: If you don't trust me, you are unpalatable to me. We cannot commune with you because you're like the waters of Mara—unbelieving, anxious, angry. We can't walk together. So Moses casts the log into the water, making it sweet, and they drank. It became sweet again.
You and I have reasons to complain. Many reasons. There are always reasons to complain. First, in Kenya, it was drought; we were sure it would kill us. Now the rains are here, and because God is good, we will have plenty of water. But then we'll complain about water washing things away, destroying crops. We know how to do that.
We need to guard our hearts. The road from the place of victory to a place of grumbling is a very slippery slope, and it begins a rapid backsliding because of the posture of our hearts. Look at what happens: "The Lord made for them a statute and a rule." There's an intention—He was taking them to the bitter water to see a reflection of themselves.
"If you will diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God and do that which is right in his eyes and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians; for I am the Lord your healer."
He's inviting us to come for healing, to have faith in Him so that this journey doesn't have to be difficult or tedious. From this point onward, God begins to form a picture of the kind of people He's dealing with. It will be an acrimonious relationship if they remain unbelieving. He says: "It doesn't have to be this way. We can have a better journey—a journey of true friendship and communion, a journey where you trust me and I lead you well, where I provide for you and you give thanks to me. I already intend to provide for you. It's not something I'm making up as I go; it's part of the journey. For I am the God who heals you."
Then they came to Elim, where there were 12 springs of water and 70 palm trees, and they encamped there by the water. Elim was always there. It was part of the journey—a place of refreshing. After three days' travel in the desert, they could have been taken straight there. But God needed to deal with the state of their hearts.
Mara represents an unbelieving, anxious community unable to trust God. Elim represents the abundant provision of God even to unbelieving people. It's available. God would like to avoid Mara and take us straight to Elim. But He gauges where we are in terms of our ability to trust Him. If we can credit Him for who He is—a good, loving, kind, and gracious God—and not read every situation back to Him ("You brought us to the desert to kill us; were there no graves in Egypt?"), then we understand His intention.
The times of hardship, adversity, isolation, and wilderness wandering are brought about by God. They are intentional. He brings us into those spaces to mold our character. If we would be submitted to His leadership and trusting, He will make us into the people He intends us to be.
Remember, He's molding us into a people of faith, a peculiar nation. He says:
"You are a holy nation, you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, people belonging to God, that you should call out the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light. You are My spokespeople; you are My ambassadors to a needy and hurting world. I want you to reflect My glory, My peace, My love, My provision, and My kindness so that others will desire what you already have."
So the last thing on our lips should be grumbling and complaining, anxiety and unbelief. That's very unattractive to unbelievers, and worse, it tells lies about who God is:
Every time you grumble and complain, you communicate these lies. God doesn't get any credit from us when we behave this way. God is crying out for us to be a people who are submitted and moldable so that we can go straight into Elim and be refreshed. Others, seeing us, will see what a glorious people we are—a lucky congregation of people who trust in their God, who are led by their God. They don't care whether they're in the desert because their God provides shade for them. He covers them and provides water even in a dry and wasteful land.
"They came to Elim where there were 12 springs of water and 70 palm trees and they encamped there by the water."
May God give us grace not just to enjoy the journey but to enjoy the journey even during the tests as we anticipate the Elim seasons. Yes, we are going through a parched and dry ground, but guess what? I know God has a plan, and we credit Him for that.
In Exodus 16, they set out from Elim, and all the congregation came to the Wilderness of Sin. This name isn't sin as in moral failure; it's associated with Sinai. This is another really harsh desert—even harsher than the last. Sand stretches as far as the eye can see; you literally see heat shimmering, the kind of place where mirages form. It's rocky, dry, terrible. Scorpions, snakes, and all kinds of dangers exist there. Very, very harsh.
Again, it's very intentional. God has this pattern of leading the people He chooses, the people He loves, the people He's molding into desert places where nothing grows. Think about it: the kind of people we are, we're easily immersed in comforts, conveniences, and provisions that God generously gives. But in those environments, we hardly ever hear God because the trappings of power, authority, and privilege make it so easy to trust in those things rather than in God.
But when God is very intentional about you, He will lead you to desert places. And in desert places, you could be alone even though you're in a crowd—because of what you're going through. The places where we sometimes find ourselves, we've lost our jobs with no real reason, sometimes as a result of injustice. Other times the business doesn't do well; the bottom seems to fall from under us, and we're in free fall. Other times it's ailments and diseases. There could be times of isolation—whether for us or our loved ones.
I know how trying it has been for Reverend Mwanala and his wife caring for their mother, and I know from my own experience how difficult it was to care for my mother in her last days. Those are times of isolation. God pushes us to those seasons in our lives, and what happens there is that there's nothing to grasp. It's like God removes everything else except Himself.
In the desert place where nothing grows, you know that if you are to eat, it will take God. If you are to drink, it will take God—only Him. And He removes everything else so that it's you and Him. That's where the relationship of trust is forged. That's where you realize that whatever God has granted you—your job, career, gift, talent—these are secondary means of provision. They are not the main means. He is the Provider. Even those can be taken away, and even when they are, He remains true to who He is.
"I'm the God who provides for you. I'm God who is going to be your healer very soon. I will reveal Myself as the Bread of Life, your daily sustenance." We commemorated that by eating the bread and drinking the cup. "I am your sustenance. It comes from me."
Don't take lightly those seasons. Don't grumble about them. Go through them, hopefully with a sweet spirit, trusting God and knowing that you're in this place for a reason. Thank God for the situation you find yourself in and thank God that He will provide even in a dry and thirsty land.
For the Israelites, they will eat and drink. They'll never have to plant a thing. They'll never witness a river, and yet they'll drink. God was teaching them: "I am your sustenance. I'm your life. I'm your everything."
In a desert, there's nothing to hold on to, nothing to cling to. You can't plant; you can't grow. God teaches you: "I am all that you eat. If you have me, then you have everything you need."
Remember His intention: to take them to Canaan, the land flowing with milk and honey, where everything they need will be provided. There will be bread. Even the hills will have iron and copper in them. Anything they need will be provided. But they might quickly think that's where their sustenance comes from and forget the God who took them to Canaan.
Let's be careful in our spiritual journey. Let's acknowledge God for who He is—our Provider even in the days of plenty and great abundance.
Remember Jacob. He stole the birthright from his brother Esau and became exceedingly rich because the rights of the firstborn brought blessings and abundance from heaven. He came back a very wealthy man with many flocks and properties. But at one point, he realized: "This is nothing if I do not have the blessing of God."
So he crossed at the Jabbok, sent everything he owned—his wives, children, flocks, everything—and was left alone with God on the other side. That's the place of wrestling with God. When there's nothing that defines you except your relationship with God, that's where true wrestling happens.
God not only overpowered him; He injured him. By just a touch of God's finger, God dislocated his hip, yet God wrestled with him all night. Some have reflected that part of that wrestling was meant to exhaust him, because Jacob was a self-made man, a go-getter—a modern guy who would shoot right to the top by any means possible. But God wanted to redefine him because he was not dependent on God.
When God touched his hip, He redefined who Jacob was. God asked him: "What's your name?" Imagine asking an adult man what's his name. He should know. Jacob said, "My name is Jacob," and God renamed him Israel. You see, at one point Jacob had tried to steal his brother's identity, telling his father "My name is Esau" to get the birthright. God wanted him to know: "You don't have to be anything other than what I've made you. I can bless you as you are. Your name is Jacob, but from this point onwards, you shall be Israel."
It's amazing what God made out of that man. As he advanced toward his brother, he couldn't run away because his hip was dislocated. He just hobbled alone, slowly. The Bible says that as he crossed to a certain place, the sun rose on him. He called the place Peniel. It's a beautiful picture of the sunrise on this elderly man limping along, not able to run, not able to protect himself from his quote-unquote hostile brother—but with the grace of God shining on him. He became an entire nation.
He had to send away everything he had and remain alone with God to be defined by God. It's amazing what can be achieved when we look for our definition not from things, people, property, positions, powers, and privileges, but alone with God, asking Him: "Define who I am. Tell me who I am." He said, "I won't let go until you bless me."
As we finish today, I want you to remember something: a lot of the quarreling and grumbling of the Israelites against God did not have to do with very important things. It was about bread and water—food, basic needs. They were unable to trust God for very basic needs, and this poisoned their relationship with Him.
I want you to think about your own journey. What are the things that come between you and God? When you're angry, when you quarrel, when you're bitter, when you're untrusting—many of us even threaten to leave the faith as though that would change God. You walk out on God when you do those things. What are the real causes?
I've never had somebody say, "God, if you cannot guarantee me eternity, I'm walking out. I want to know for sure that I'll be with you forever." People don't fight about important things. It's about food to eat, clothes to wear, water to drink—basic needs.
Jesus said these are not even things you need to pray about. Your Father in Heaven already knows you need them. "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." He pointed to the birds of the air: They don't plant, don't sow, don't have granaries where they store things, yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. "Are you not more important than this?"
That's not what defines you. Those are basic needs. Jesus even said: "I don't even have a home. The Son of Man does not have a place to lay His head. Even foxes do better than I."
There's a bigger picture—a much bigger picture. I pray you would have courage to trust God for things that really matter and not quarrel with God because you're not provided for adequately according to your own definition. Many times, that lack of provision is seasonal. You're just transitioning from Mara to Elim. There will be provision in Elim because the whole story of your life hasn't been written yet.
Don't allow yourself to be defined by the time of the season of adversity, the season of sorrow, the season of lack. It's a small picture. This is a much bigger picture. God is molding us into a beautiful community of faith that can be a testimony to others out there who not only don't have provision but don't even have a God they can call Father as you do, as I do. They don't have a place of sanctuary to run that is reliable, that is rock solid like Jesus is.
Let's watch our hearts. Let's take responsibility for our discipleship. Let's avoid the backsliding. And if you're at a place of great victory, watch out for the test—because it's coming.
When it does, may the Lord find you sweet in communion with Him. May He take you straight to Elim because He knows that you trust Him, that in your heart of hearts you know that whatever He has for you is good. He has a good plan for you. This is a destination that nothing will keep you from arriving at. That is your destiny.
May you give Him glory for the season of life that you are in right now.
In Jesus' name, amen.
