Exodus 16: 1-12

1 They set out from Elim, and all the congregation of the people of Israel came to the wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had departed from the land of Egypt. 2 And the whole congregation of the people of Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness, 3 and said to them, “Would that we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate bread to the full; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” 4 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you; and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day, that I may prove them, whether they will walk in my law or not. 5 On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather daily.” 6 So Moses and Aaron said to all the people of Israel, “At evening you shall know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, 7 and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your murmurings against the Lord. For what are we that you murmur against us?” 8 And Moses said, “When the Lord gives you in the evening flesh to eat and in the morning bread to the full, because the Lord has heard your murmurings which you murmur against him - what are we? Your murmurings are not against us but against the Lord.” 9 And Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole congregation of the people of Israel, ‘Come near before the Lord, for he has heard your murmurings.’” 10 And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the people of Israel, they looked toward the wilderness, and behold, the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. 11 And the Lord said to Moses, 12 “I have heard the murmurings of the people of Israel; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat flesh, and in the morning you shall be filled with bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’”

Ruth 2:19-21

19 And her mother-in-law said to her, “Where did you glean today? And where have you worked? Blessed be the man who took notice of you.” So she told her mother-in-law with whom she had worked and said, “The man’s name with whom I worked today is Boaz,” 20 And Naomi said to her daughter-in-law, “May he be blessed by the Lord, whose kindness has not forsaken the living or the dead!” Naomi also said to her, “The man is a close relative of ours, one of our redeemers." 21 And Ruth the Moabite said, “Besides, he said to me, ‘You shall keep close by my young men until they have finished all my harvest.’”

Reflection

Wilderness … an uncultivated, uninhabited, often inhospitable region. Also, an area where people themselves are visitors striving to not remain. But do we always engage the journey with expectation as we tentatively step along with slow advance, and do we crane forward with anticipation to better hear and respond to a voice crying in the wilderness. In my experience, no. Transition is often difficult even when wilderness travel is somehow avoided. However, hardships explode beyond our realization when we discover we’re traveling within the grasp of wilderness. If birds are chirping, ears are unhearing. We’re so absorbed we’re numb. In fact, our senses focus on the solitude with the horizon endlessly spanning ahead. Notably, our Savior experienced wilderness immediately following His Father’s proclamation, “This is My Son. With Him I am well pleased”. Quite the sharp transition from the Holy Spirit just previously descending on Him like a dove. Israelites grumbled through wilderness circuitously advancing toward the Promised Land. Their trek ensued following miraculous events culminating in walking on a dry pathway through the Red Sea. Quite the sharp transition from walking between walls of water held back by the Hands of God.

Naomi’s wilderness slowly collected around her with the passing of her husband and her two sons. No wonder she excused her daughters-in-law to return as widows to their immediate families, exclaiming, “Have I more sons in my womb to raise as future husbands for you?” Yet one returned and one remained. Ruth’s devotion to this wilderness journeyer remarkably demonstrated a steadfastness for experiencing the process together. What an incredible gift of presence as she stepped into a new role as placeholder for Naomi’s deceased sons and husband. Through God’s design, she provided sustainable resources for herself and her widowed mother-in-law. Perhaps this act of devoted love provides a forecast of Jesus joining His disciples’ wilderness journey on the road to Emmaus. As they walked along discussing the day’s events that all hell had broken to pieces targeting their anticipation that He was the Promised Messiah. “And their eyes were opened in the breaking of the bread”, offering to them both human and Holy Sustenance.

Sam and I grew up together through elementary, junior high, and high school. We experienced adventures through athletics and Boy Scouts, through family cookouts and working with livestock on our respective ranches. Then we graduated from high school and entered life, separated by geography and careers. Reunited through tragedy, Sam showed up at my parent’s home on the afternoon following my mother’s death. And he stayed.

As others arrived and others departed, he stayed. He didn’t offer special words. He did provide a hug which I welcomed, and I sobbed on his shoulder. He didn’t bring food. He didn’t awkwardly attempt conversation or imply he knew “how I felt”; no one did. He simply stayed – for hours – remaining, in no hurry to leave. His act of devoted love mirrored the gift of presence lived out in countless Biblical illustrations, culminating through our Savior’s presence with forlorn disciples. And His Gift of Presence exists today, through any wilderness journey. He knows firsthand about temptation, feeling forsaken, and walking through wilderness. I always receive unspeakable benefit from love expressed through devoted presence. We sometimes feel another’s voice crying in the wilderness when so numb we’re deaf. And don’t we all hold experiences preparing us for the gift of presence, Formed in the Wilderness, for others?

Prayer

Creator of All Things,

Growth exists even in, perhaps especially through, inhospitable regions we are chosen to travel. This growth can occur nowhere else and serves us opportunity to share a love, so inexpressible words fail. We glimpse dimly, often through tears, a piece of the walk suffered by the Man of Sorrows for us and others. Thank You. Amen.

Isaiah 43:2

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

Reflection:

Have you ever felt the need for a hard reset, not just in your body, but in your soul? For years, I have been quietly drawn to the Camino de Santiago—nearly 500 miles, five weeks of walking. I’ve read about it, watched films, and carried it in my heart, imagining myself on that road, even though I couldn’t explain why. I understand now why so many pilgrims begin the Camino without answers, trusting that meaning will meet them somewhere along the way. When that path remained out of reach, God met me on another one.

Over several years, I found myself saying yes to long walks and long bike rides—a 26-mile march through White Sands, twice; forty miles over two days, three times; and more than 230 miles on a bike across Missouri. At the time, none of it felt holy. It was just hard, and hot, and quiet, and long.

I didn’t know why I kept doing it. I wasn’t strong or fast. I just knew I had to train and show up day after day, putting one foot in front of the other. Ten hours on your feet gives you a lot of time to think. Eventually, thinking gives way to listening.

Somewhere in those miles, the wilderness stopped feeling empty. It became a place where distractions fell away, where weakness was exposed, and where God felt closer than words. The road became a kind of prayer that was steady, repetitive, and honest.

I didn’t know I needed to be reset, but I did. God was forming something in me long before I could name it. The meaning didn’t arrive all at once. It rarely does. But looking back, I can see it now: endurance was being shaped, trust was being learned, and faith was being strengthened in the quiet. And when I finally came through, I felt different—stronger, calmer, more rooted, and more aware of His presence guiding every step.

I carry with me daily that long season of my life, and I am so grateful to everyone who cheered me on and waited for me at the finish line.

Where might God be meeting you in a wilderness season right now? What disciplines or daily rhythms might He be using to prepare you? Is there an area of your life where endurance is being formed before clarity is given?

Prayer:

God, thank You for meeting me on the road when I didn’t know what I was looking for. Thank You for the wilderness places that form us before they explain us. Teach me to keep walking, to trust the slow work of Your hands, and to believe that You are preparing me—even when I can’t yet see where the road leads. Amen.

1 Kings 19:1-8

And Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, also how he had executed all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So let the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.” And when he saw that, he arose and ran for his life, and went to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he prayed that he might die, and said, “It is enough! Now, LORD, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!” Then as he lay and slept under a broom tree, suddenly an angel touched him, and said to him, “Arise and eat.” Then he looked, and there by his head was a cake baked on coals, and a jar of water. So he ate and drank, and lay down again. And the angel of the LORD came back the second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” So he arose, and ate and drank; and he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights as far as Horeb, the mountain of God.

Reflection:

During the recent cold front (the one with the snow and ice), I spent some time back home helping my parents on their ranch. I have always loved cold weather, and I spent almost the entire weekend outside, soaking up the beauty of nature covered in ice. In the midst of frozen paradise, God sent me a subtle reminder. One of our heifers had her first calf on a Friday. We watched the calf try to nurse, but he was kicked off or trampled each time. Saturday morning, we checked to see if he had made any progress. His mama was still kicking him off the udder. The calf was weak and shivering. In many ways, this calf resembles Elijah. He was left to die until we came to save him. Dad and I caught the calf and bottle fed him three times a day, returning him back to his mom after each feeding in hopes she would care for him. After the third day of pulling the calf to be bottle fed, he was finally able to nurse his mom. Now, “Little Pete” is strong enough to run and play with the rest of the calves and is getting care from his mama.

Much like Elijah, our calf needed to eat to prepare for his journey ahead. His body was shutting down, preparing to die when we found him. He didn’t want a bottle; I had to force feed him several times. But as the hours and days passed, our Little Pete grew stronger and was able to continue on his journey, eventually reuniting with his little calf friends. In the same way, Elijah needed God to find him, encourage him, and give him strength to continue on his journey to Horeb.

In nature and the wilderness, we are exposed. Little Pete was found in the cold, quiet wilderness, where he would become another victim, succumbing to the cold. Elijah was found in the wilderness: exhausted, isolated, and ready to give up. Yet, the wilderness was not where either of them was abandoned. It was where they were found by God. God found Elijah under the broom tree and sent an angel with food, rest, and gentle encouragement. God found that little calf through us and gave him what he needed to survive. In both stories, provision came before purpose and strength was restored before the journey continued.

Our wilderness could look like exhaustion, discouragement, illness, grief, or confusion about what comes next, different tribulations for us each. But Scripture reminds us that the wilderness is often where God meets His people most intimately. When we feel fragile and forgotten, God is still working, still feeding, still preparing us for what is ahead.

Little Pete didn’t stay weak forever. Elijah didn’t stay under the broom tree forever. And we won’t stay in the wilderness forever either. Sometimes, the wilderness is exactly where God finds us and where He begins to restore us for the journey ahead. Other times, we are like Little Pete, too weak to feed ourselves, too tired to keep going, and too overwhelmed to even want the help that would save us. Elijah was a prophet of God, yet he reached a point where he wanted to give up. God did not scold him. He did not rush him. He fed him, let him rest, and gently reminded him that his journey was not over.

In the same way, God gives us strength through moments in the wilderness. He feeds us through His Word, through people who love us, and through moments of quiet grace we may not even recognize at the time. We may resist at first, just like the calf resisted the bottle, but God patiently strengthens us until we are able to stand again. Little Pete’s story is a reminder that weakness is not the end of the story, but is often a reflection of God’s hand in our journey. When we feel fragile, abandoned, or unable to go on, God is near, sustaining us for the journey ahead. Just like Elijah, and just like that little calf, we are not finished with His plans for us.

Prayer

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for meeting me in my own wilderness. Please continue to have your hand in my life, feed me with your word, and strengthen me when I am weak. Amen.

Psalm 46

1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea, 3 though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult. Selah 4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. 5 God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns. 6 The nations are in an uproar; the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice; the earth melts. 7 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah 8 Come, behold the works of the Lord; see what desolations he has brought on the earth. 9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the shields with fire. 10 “Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations; I am exalted in the earth.” 11 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah

Reflection:

“Choose a line or short passage that serves as an example of figurative language and illustrate its meaning. You may draw images or create them using computer graphics. Be creative!” These were the instructions for our son’s recent English assignment. While a task like this terrifies my non-creative self when it relates to Shakespeare, finding figurative or descriptive language in Psalm 46 is less challenging. We can imagine what it would look like if “the mountains fall into the heart of the sea” or if God “breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with his fire.” If we want to imagine a different setting, verse 4 paints a lovely picture of “a river whose streams make glad the city of God.”

Somehow, I always manage to find beauty in the chaos of nature. A lone flower stands strong after a tornado; the colors in a thunderstorm sky are magnificent; the flames of a forest fire are powerfully illuminating. But when I consider the daily chaos of modern life, I often struggle to find anything remotely beautiful. A photo montage of daily chaos would show scenes of difficult, late night conversations at the kitchen table, parents torn between their children’s activities and the demands of work, and vehicle repairs that get more urgent each day. I could probably draw a fire, a storm, or even the heartsick love depicted in Shakespeare. But how do you draw hurt, confusion, and exhaustion? And how in the world could beauty be found here?

This year’s Lent devotionals invited us to write about how God meets us in stories that are unresolved or still unfolding. These instructions gave me the freedom to admit that I haven’t always managed to find beauty in our modern, chaotic life. Sometimes days are just hard, and they don’t seem like anything that an artist should draw. But…. God is there. The very beginning of Psalm 46 tells us that “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” He is ever-present. We don’t need to say the magic word, or click our heels, or go on a treasure hunt. He is there. In the mess, in the confusion, and in the dark, He is there. He says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” I remember learning at Reba Ragsdale’s funeral that she liked this verse about being still. This surprised many of us, because Mrs. Reba was rarely still! But I have no doubt that she was absolutely certain of who God was. And I am confident that she knew He was ever-present in all stages of her life. I admired Mrs. Reba since the day I met her, and I was privileged to witness the beauty and hope that she brought to many people and places. Her memory, and repeated reading of Psalm 46, help me feel God’s ever-presence. I may not find beauty in the chaos every day, but I am absolutely sure God is there.

Prayer:

Dear God, please be near us. When we feel like the mountain we are standing on is falling into the heart of the sea, please help us feel your presence. We seek your peace and your protection. Thank you for being our fortress, our refuge, and our strength. Amen.

Acts 27:13-26

13 When a moderate south wind began to blow, they thought they could achieve their purpose; so they weighed anchor and began to sail past Crete, close to the shore. 14 But soon a violent wind, called the northeaster, rushed down from Crete. 15 Since the ship was caught and could not be turned head-on into the wind, we gave way to it and were driven. 16 By running under the lee of a small island called Cauda we were scarcely able to get the ship’s boat under control. 17 After hoisting it up they took measures to undergird the ship; then, fearing that they would run on the Syrtis, they lowered the sea anchor and so were driven. 18 We were being pounded by the storm so violently that on the next day they began to throw the cargo overboard, 19 and on the third day with their own hands they threw the ship’s tackle overboard. 20 When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days and no small tempest raged, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.

21 Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul then stood up among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and thereby avoided this damage and loss. 22 I urge you now to keep up your courage, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. 23 For last night there stood by me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, 24 and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before the emperor, and, indeed, God has granted safety to all those who are sailing with you.’ 25 So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. 26 But we will have to run aground on some island.”

Reflection:

Have you ever been in a storm of your own making? Yep, me too! These words from Paul sound like my mom. In Acts 27:13-26 we read the storm is bad, the ship is falling apart, the men are scared, they don’t see stars or the sun for days, they throw their provisions over board, they are losing hope and Paul says, “Men, you should have taken my advice not to sail from Crete; then you would have spared yourselves this damage and loss. But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed.”

I was in a particular storm of my own making and said to my mom, “If I could go back with 10% of the knowledge I have now, I’d do things differently.” Mom replied, “You mean all of the things I was telling you?” See? just like Paul! Sarcasm runs deep in my family, but so does the reminder of where our hope comes from. Our hope comes from the Lord!

In storms my mind often gets noisy and I don’t know what’s reliable or true. I don’t know what action to take or when to be still. I can’t seem to think straight or quite the spinning stories in my head. A spiritual practice I turn to when I haven’t seen the stars or the sun and the ship really is about to sink is to write down helpful scriptures on note cards. I carry these cards with me, use them as book marks, I leave them around the house in places I often sit (the breakfast table, etc..) and read over them, often. I take them on walks and in the car. Some are so coffee stained you can’t see all the words. A recent card I made is from Exodus 14:14: “The Lord will fight for you, you only need to be still.”

Prayer:

Lord, I ask that during difficult times you would give me wisdom, that you would guide me and fill me with fruits of the Spirit. Help me to remember Jesus, to remember his life, his example, help me to remember his sacrifice on the cross and help me to remember the hope that came with his resurrection. Forgive me when I get distracted, get discouraged, and lose hope. When the storm comes, help me to fix my thoughts on your word and in doing so help me to renew my trust in you. Amen.

Genesis 1:1-5

1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. 3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.

Reflection:

When most of us think of chaos, we associate it with complete disorder and confusion. Amid chaos, we often feel uneasy, anxious, fearful, rushed, and uncertain. Yet when we remember that God formed the heavens and earth from what was previously formless and empty, we should be reassured that no matter how dark, messy, and chaotic our situations seem, God has a plan to use those troubling times for good.

Out of darkness he created light first. Why? What does light do? For one thing, it symbolizes God’s presence, holiness, truth and life. From the beginning, God wanted us to feel His presence, revere Him, and seek truth and life during times of chaos. As humans, unfortunately, when chaos reigns, we tend to give into the negative emotions and start overthinking all of the dire possibilities. What if we flipped the script and rather than overthinking all of the negatives, we started overthinking all of the positive possibilities? If we lean on God and turn to Him for answers during chaos rather than filling our thoughts with social media, rumors, and negativity, might we learn how to use chaos as a catalyst for change or some form of “dynamic response”?

When I think back over some of the more chaotic times in semi-recent history, I remember the chaos brought on by 9/11. Fear, uncertainty and confusion filled everyone. At the same time, stories of heroism, patriotism, and appreciation began to emerge. In my family, we were worried about my brother-in-law who was flying back from Germany that day. His plane (along with 37 other commercial planes) was diverted to the little town of Gander, Newfoundland. After hours onboard, the passengers were released, and the town hosted these “plane people” and offered them food, shelter, and excursions until flights resumed. The schools shut down, and the students pitched in to help where needed. To thank the community, passengers and airlines set up scholarship funds for the children of Gander. Through this chaos, strangers helped each other and became friends, compassion was shown, and kindness was rewarded.

More recently, we experienced the strange and chaotic Covid-19 pandemic. While temporary shutdowns became more permanent and we learned to interact with masks on and six feet between us, we also found life slowed down. In the midst of chaos, families began to eat meals together again, parents became “homeroom” teachers to their children, neighbors connected during outdoor gatherings, time spent in nature became the safest vacation option, and while the threat of a deadly virus remained, we found hope and community in new ways. We learned to attend church virtually, to meet via Zoom, and to appreciate hugs and face to face interaction once they returned.

Positives result from chaos, too, and when we trust in our Creator, peace replaces fear and anxiety, and we can relax in His presence. This quote by John Mroz perfectly states that idea: “Peace is not the absence of chaos or conflict but rather finding yourself in the midst of that chaos and remaining calm in your heart.” What can you do today to remain calm in your heart and bring peace to others in the midst of chaos? What chaotic creation are you discussing with God today?

Prayer:

Dear God, during times of chaos, please be my vision. Help me use times of uncertainty to lean on You and seek to understand how best to respond. When I am confused, guide my actions and guard my tongue. Fill me with Your peace in the midst of it all. Amen.