Today I read about the hungry Israelites wandering through the desert after leaving their captivity in Egypt. Right now, I can’t think of anything worse than relentless heat and a complete lack of rain.
Earlier, God had told Moses that He would provide, but about 45 days had passed, and whatever food they had brought with them from Egypt was gone. There was no sign of food on the horizon. So they complained, moaned, and wished they had never left Egypt. They yearned for something as simple as a bite of bread and some lamb stew.
Moses was angry at their whining Facebook posts. Mo, who apparently needed a course in anger management, told them that they were complaining against God Himself and not him. I guess he was trying to tell himself not to take this predicament personally.
It seems that 90% of life is spent waiting. Why does God make us wait? Wouldn’t it be better if He supplied what we need exactly when we need it?
Personally, I could name a handful of things I am waiting for right now. But I must wait. And wait. And wait some more.
This tells me there must be a purpose in the wait.
I know what children are like when they never learn to wait. They quickly become intolerable and are unable to withstand the smallest setback later in life. Even when training a dog, one of the first things they learn is self-control while they wait.
I figure it is the same with all of us.
Waiting creates endurance and builds strength of character. Waiting teaches us how to deal with cancer treatments, unending bad weather, and times of separation from those we love. It prepares us for the things in life we cannot hurry, fix, or control.
Jesus was pretty clear about setbacks in this life. He didn’t try to paint a picture of roses for His disciples. He told them that in this world they would have trouble.
I tend to think of trouble as something severe but temporary—a tornado that tears through town and then is gone, for example. But sometimes the worst troubles are not necessarily severe. They are milder, seemingly endless situations that just keep going and going.
Maybe that is why the Apostle Paul compared this life to a marathon rather than a sprint. Over and over, Scripture tells us that we will suffer. Suffering has never been presented as a short-term issue.
Our suffering may seem small compared to someone else’s, but we all suffer. And unlike the misguided saying, “God will never give you more than you can handle,” this world absolutely will hand us things we cannot handle.
But God can use even the bad things in this life to produce something good in us. Paul tells us that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance produces character; and character produces hope.
And ultimately, our hope is not in this life.
Here in this life, our days can seem long, but our years are short. We wait for answers, relief, healing, provision, and sometimes simply for something to change.
Eventually, the manna and quail came, relieving the Israelites’ hunger and their grumbling. But that was only temporary provision.
Ultimately, God was leading them somewhere.
And He is leading us somewhere, too.
Someday, the waiting will be over. The desert will be behind us. The manna will no longer be necessary.
Someday, we will live in the Promised Land.
