The Wilderness Sucks Until It Doesn’t
I’ll be honest, I don’t enjoy wilderness seasons. Why? Because I work very hard to avoid the droughts, the dry places, the spiraling thoughts, the emotional heaviness, the anger (toward everyone and everything… including God).
The wilderness is brutal. It’s dry. And nothing seems to make sense.
But here’s what I’ve rediscovered — because this isn’t my first wilderness season:
Oftentimes the wilderness is actually God’s kindness.
Not punishment.
Not abandonment.
Kindness.
Because in the wilderness, what we really cling to, what we actually worship, starts to surface. And I don’t like when people get vague or deep without being practical… so let me put myself on blast.
My wilderness looked like this:
Fear that we wouldn't be able to pay our bills.
The threat of eviction.
Old wounds from relationships I thought were healed.
Shame from not landing a job even though I prayed and tried.
OCD symptoms.
Higher depressive symptoms.
Passive suicidal thoughts.
Wondering if hope would ever return.
I know God is my provider (Philippians 4:19).
I’ve watched Him come through for me before.
But this time felt different.
Harder.
Heavier.
We moved away from everything familiar, so on top of financial pressure and uncertainty, there was homesickness and grief. And I cracked.
I told God, “I don’t have hope anymore. Not in You. Not in anything.”
I knew His track record, based on His faithfulness in the past, but in this season, I doubted His heart. And that’s when God began revealing what was really going on:
My hope wasn’t in God — it was in outcomes.
Specific outcomes.
Ideal outcomes.
The way I wanted life to unfold.
He showed me I was clinging to dreams of what could be more tightly than I clung to Him, the One who gives all good and perfect gifts. (James 1:17). And every time I tried to “fix it,” push harder, stay strong, be self-sufficient…
…I ended up right back at square one.
Then the wilderness did what it’s meant to do:
I surrendered.
Not because I was holy.
Not because I trusted easily.
But because I had nothing left.
I asked God to help me hope in Him again — because I couldn’t do it on my own.
So I stopped clinging to the outcome, and I started clinging to Him:
Studying more of His character
Learning more His ways
Seeing Him reveal who He has always been
And slowly… the heaviness began to lift.
What does that mean for you?
Maybe the circumstances aren’t changing because God wants to change you.
Not to punish you.
Not to shame you.
But to free you from what’s holding you hostage.
In the wilderness, He gently removes:
coping mechanisms that numb instead of heal
patterns that keep us overwhelmed and stuck
false securities that fail us every time
It feels like loss. It feels like death at times. But it’s actually liberation. Because the goal isn’t to get out of the wilderness. The goal is to learn who God is in it.
Life is heavy.
Sin is real.
And Jesus told us there would be trouble (John 16:33)
Trials, tribulations, hardships and wilderness seasons.
But He also promised:
hope beyond what we see (2 Corinthians 4:17–18)
restoration after suffering (1 Peter 5:10)
He wants you grounded in something stable, sound, and eternal.
Him.
Your wilderness is not the end of your story. It might be where God is making you whole.
