“And He said to them, ‘Come aside by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.’” — Mark 6:31

A journey through the desert, a valley of darkness, a difficult path, a season of adversity—these do come into the lives of God’s people. Through the paths of my own life, I have gradually learned that it is not strange for God to lead His children through the wilderness.

God has separated and removed from me things I had trusted and depended upon, as well as people I had trusted and depended upon. I have longed for what I lost and grieved over those I lost. Familiar circumstances have changed. Those who supported me have moved away. Things that once seemed secure have disappeared one after another.

Those who were carnal rejected me; those who were spiritual also moved away from me. Those who gave birth to me moved away; those who raised me moved away. I did not know where I would go the next day. I did not know what I would do. I did not know where I would stay. I did not know who would support me.

When I looked behind me, familiar things were disappearing one after another; when I looked ahead, I did not know what lay before me. It was during such seasons that I learned what the wilderness really is—not from a book, but from life.

The Loneliness of the Wilderness

Today, the circle of my life has become very small. I do not receive emails from people. My contact with the outside world has become very limited. I can count on my fingers the people who call me and those whom I meet in person. In this wilderness, only these few people would know whether we are still alive or not.

This is where our life has come to today.

There was a time when my life was filled with people, relationships, travel, activity, and responsibilities. I never imagined that such a life could change like this. One by one, the voices around me grew silent. The sound of human footsteps faded into the distance. At first, this silence felt like loneliness. At times, it was painful.

But within that silence, I also learned to hear another Voice more clearly.

From the Palace to the Wilderness

When I think about the life of Moses, I see something of this path there too. The first forty years of his life were connected with the palace of Egypt. “And Moses was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and was mighty in words and deeds” (Acts 7:22). He had education. He had knowledge. He had the background of the palace. The resources of Egypt surrounded him.

The next forty years were entirely different. No palace, but a wilderness. No glory of Egypt, but sheep. The man who had been described as mighty in words and deeds became the man who asked, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh...?” (Exodus 3:11).

There is a strange beauty in this to me.

Moses learned many things in the palace of Egypt, but in the wilderness he learned to depend upon God. The palace showed him the resources of Egypt; the wilderness showed him the resources of God. In the palace he had seen how great human power could be; in the wilderness he discovered how small man is and how great God is.

What is even more striking is that the burning bush did not appear to Moses in the palace. It appeared in the wilderness. The new stage of God’s calling did not begin in the palace either. It began when Moses was tending sheep and had gone to the back of the desert.

What I Learned in the Wilderness

There are things I have known about God during the comfortable seasons of my life. But depending upon Him, leaning upon Him, clinging to Him, trusting Him, and looking to Him—these I learned far more deeply in the wilderness.

When there was nothing else to hold on to, I learned to cling to Him. When I did not know what tomorrow would bring, I learned to trust Him. When I did not know which way to go, I learned to look to Him alone.

When people were there to support me, I knew on paper that God was the One who sustained me. But it was only when those who supported me were gone that I learned through experience that God alone is the One who sustains me.

Only when the resources familiar to me disappeared did I begin to discover that God had resources I had never known before.

Hidden Resources in the Wilderness

At the beginning of my wilderness journey, all my eyes could see was scorching heat and dry sand. But as the journey continued, I began to discover that the wilderness contains not only sand, but heavenly resources hidden within it.

In Egypt, the Israelites had the Nile. In the wilderness, there was no Nile—but there was a rock. In Egypt, there were natural means of obtaining food. In the wilderness, those means were gone—but every morning there was manna.

In Egypt, they knew where their water would come from. In the wilderness, they did not. In Egypt, they could reasonably calculate how they might obtain tomorrow’s food. In the wilderness, they could not. Every day they had to look to God.

They lost much in the wilderness. But what they discovered was even greater.

Little by little, I have discovered the same thing in my own wilderness.

Where I expected a river, God opened a rock.

When I expected something to come from the earth, it came from heaven.

When I looked for shade, an unexpected cloud gave me shelter.

On some nights that I thought were darkness, that same cloud became light to me.

Springs have broken forth. Flowers have blossomed in unexpected places.

When the Israelites entered the wilderness, they did not know that there was water inside a rock. They did not know that there was bread in heaven for them. They did not know that a cloud was waiting to lead them day after day.

Those resources were there. But they did not know them until the time came when they needed them.

When I look back over my own life, this is what amazes me most. I kept looking only at what I did not have and at those who were no longer with me. But I could not see then what God had already prepared for the next day.

The wilderness has not merely shown me my needs; it has shown me the sufficiency of God. It has not merely made me aware of my weakness; it has made me know His strength. It has not merely shown me how limited my resources are; little by little, it has taught me how limitless His resources are.

As things were taken from my hands one after another, I thought only that my hands were becoming empty. It was later that I discovered that when my hands became empty, I could see how full the hands of God were.

Rest in the Wilderness

“Come aside by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.”

These words now raise a strange question in my mind.

Does anyone rest in a wilderness? Would anyone go into a wilderness in order to rest?

A wilderness means emptiness. Loneliness. A place with little human activity. A place without familiar comforts. A place where the voices that once surrounded us are no longer heard.

Yet it is precisely such a place that the Lord describes when He says, “Come aside by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.”

I did not understand these words this deeply before. But when I look at my life today, I see them differently.

The place that first seemed like loneliness has gradually become a place of rest.

There is a rest in being removed from the expectations of people. There is a rest in no longer having to prove myself. There is a rest in knowing that I do not have to answer everything. There is a rest in knowing that I do not have to do everything. There is even a rest in not having to be known by everyone.

There was a time when I wondered when I would come out of the wilderness. Today, more than wanting to leave the wilderness, I find within myself a desire not to lose what I have discovered here.

When I look back now over my wilderness paths, it is not only the scorching heat and the dry sand that I remember.

I remember the rock.

I remember the springs.

I remember the manna that comes in the morning.

I remember the cloud that gives shade by day and that same cloud giving light by night.

And along with all these, I remember one more thing—rest.

I once thought that the wilderness and rest were contradictions. I no longer see them that way.

My wilderness has become my place of rest.

The wilderness is not a place without resources. Where my resources came to an end, God’s resources became visible. Where human voices grew quiet, His Voice became clearer. Where the things I had leaned upon were removed, I learned to lean upon Him.

I have lost much in my wilderness. But what I have discovered is far greater.