Not From Here

Sometimes God leads us into the wilderness to restore what survival taught us to forget.

Scripture

Psalm 35

Psalm 37

Reflection

I did not understand this season. This winter. This wilderness since the divorce. Like Moses in the desert, I believed I had asked God for deep healing. Then I found myself wondering, at what cost? (He gently reminds me it was He who knit them together in my womb.) I wanted restoration, but I wanted it from the midst of raw pain and oppression. God, in His mercy, showed me that healing could not begin there. A spirit consumed by survival cannot fully receive what He longs to give.

I think of Israel in the wilderness. They had been delivered from Egypt, yet Egypt had not been fully removed from them. It wasn't long before they demanded a golden calf. How could a spirit still shaped by slavery recognize the gift of the Promised Land? I don't ask that question to judge them. I ask it because I recognize myself in them. Dependence and trust had to be returned to God before they could receive what He had prepared. Perhaps the wilderness was never the obstacle. Perhaps it was the place where God lovingly dismantled every false foundation until He Himself became enough.

Over time, I have watched Him do the same within me. My mind had become fluent in worry, survival, and hypervigilance. Those pathways had been rehearsed so often they felt like reality. Yet, through His patience, He has slowly retrained my heart toward gratitude, joy, and trust. (Your joy is my strength.) There is a remarkable journey between Psalm 35 and Psalm 37. One cries out from the depths of oppression; the other rests in a contentment that transcends circumstance. That peace is not born from denial, nor from finally controlling every outcome. It is born from surrender. There are now moments that once would have left me spiraling into fear that instead leave me standing in awe of His faithfulness. This is not my victory. It is His work. It is my complete surrender.

Returning to Truth

The wilderness exposes what we have learned to depend upon.

God, in His mercy, gently removes every false foundation until He Himself becomes enough.

He is not withholding the Promised Land.

He is preparing us to receive it.

When fear has become our native language, He patiently teaches us gratitude.

When survival has become our instinct, He patiently teaches us trust.

When striving has become our identity, He patiently reminds us that we are already His.

Questions to Consider

• Has God ever answered one of your prayers with, "Not from here"? If so, what was He inviting you to leave behind before leading you forward?

• Is there a place in your life where you've mistaken the wilderness for God's absence instead of His preparation?

• Where is God inviting you to exchange worry for gratitude, striving for surrender, or fear for faith?

• Looking back, can you see a season that once felt like suffering but now reveals itself as healing?

Prayer

Father,

Thank You for refusing to leave me where survival taught me to live. Thank You for meeting me in the wilderness with patience, compassion, and truth. When I cannot understand the season, help me trust the One who does.

Retrain my heart to delight in You. Replace fear with gratitude, striving with surrender, and anxiety with the quiet confidence that You are already present in tomorrow.

Teach me to receive Your gifts with open hands and an undivided heart. May my joy never rest in my circumstances, but in Your unchanging faithfulness.

And when I finally look back upon this wilderness, let me see not what was taken from me, but what You restored within me.

Amen.