SCRIPTURE:

John 15:5 (NIV)
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.

Romans 5:3-5 (NIV)
3 Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

DEVO:

We are all averse to dry seasons, aren’t we? Nobody wants to wake up each morning feeling spiritually parched and empty. Nobody wants to feel like God is a million miles away, only to be left wondering when He’s going to visit again and bring long-awaited refreshment and hope. I’ve never met anyone who longs for a desert season to come into their life, however I’ve met many people who long for the spiritual gain that came as a result of their desert season. 

I believe the first step to partnering with God in the redemptive narrative He has for your life is to immerse yourself in the places where you can experience the presence of God . . . even if those places seem dry. We alluded to this yesterday, but I want to revisit it and unpack it a little more. Elimelek chose to leave Bethlehem, a location marked and characterized by the presence and the promises of God, to find food and sustenance for his family. Why? Simply because it had become dry. Simply because there was a famine in the land, and rather than trusting that the presence of God would bring about the provision they needed, he took matters into his own hands.

I find this to be an overwhelming temptation for me when I’ve come to a dry season. What I mean by that is there are settings in our lives, places where we once experienced the presence and provision of God but now it seems that no matter how much we try, no matter how loud our cries, our efforts and prayers seem to hit the ceiling. God seems a million miles away. The very settings that once brought refreshment now feel like a desert. And the temptation I face is to leave my desert in search of something else to fill my longings. The problem again is, Moab is dryer. Trust me and thousands of others who have found this to be true: if being in God’s will is dry for you right now, being out of it is much dryer. 

Maybe you’re currently experiencing one of these deserts. Maybe you would characterize your job as a “desert” . . . or your church home, or your marriage, or your role as a parent, or a close friendship. Maybe it’s more general than that. Maybe you’re just experiencing a general pervasive parched feeling as you walk through your everyday life. Maybe God’s Word isn’t coming to life for you like it once did. No matter the desert you may be experiencing right now, I know the first temptation for all of us is to leave what’s dry in search of something that promises to satisfy -- but that’s not always the answer.

I believe that more often than not, God has directed us into this desert to deepen us, to enrich our faith. Doesn’t scripture tell us in Luke 4 that it was The Holy Spirit that directed Jesus into the wilderness to be tested? There are times I believe God withdraws “provision” from us so that we don’t get attached to the provision itself but instead look to the Provider as our hope. You see, even with the most altruistic of intentions, we tend to gradually migrate from worshipping God for who He is, to worshipping God for what He does for us. And sometimes the only way the reality of this can be revealed to us is through the drying up of the very resource God once provided for us. Often what God is calling us to do in the desert is to sit still and let Him work. He wants to speak to us in ways we’ve never heard from Him and reveal things about Himself that will enrich our intimacy with Him. 

What I love about the Hebrew language is that many Hebrew words have root words. That’s not unlike other languages, however, in Hebrew, everytime a word contains another origin, the meanings of those two words are always intricately connected to reveal something about the heart and character of God. 

For example, the Hebrew word for desert is the word midbar. Midbar originates from the word dobar which means, “to speak.” In your midbar seasons, God wants to dobar to you. It’s in these seasons that we’re often desperate for answers. Now God finally has our attention and can impart some truth or wisdom to us that will transform our hearts and lives. When everything is going well in our lives, our pace and posture don’t usually avail us the opportunity to hear God with clarity, because we’re busy going about our own business. As one person so aptly said, we know about God on the mountain top, but we really get to know Him in the valley. 

What’s tragic, however, is that we will miss out on a deepening of knowledge and understanding of God if we choose to jump ship when things get dry around us -- no matter what proverbial desert we’re in. Whether leaving your marriage because the sparks aren’t flying like they used to or leaving your church because of a strained relationship with a staff member, you don’t usually find what you’re truly longing for by running from the desert. Unfortunately the decision Elimilek made to uproot his family in search of provision from a source other than God, ultimately led to the tragic demise of both he and his two sons. How might their story have gone differently if they had sunk their roots even deeper in Bethlehem during the famine? Perhaps God would have used his faith to miraculously provide for his family. Maybe Elimilek’s leadership could have ushered in physical provision (and quite possibly spiritual revival) to the entire nation of Israel.

You never know what kind of miracle you might be missing out on if you jump ship in trying times. How many people deserted Jesus in John 6 when he preached the hard truth about what it cost to be one of his disciples? How many people thus missed out on being both a participant in and recipient of Jesus’ miracles? Yet the disciples’ saving grace was a determination to hold on to and stay aligned with the presence of God through the person of Jesus. When Jesus looked over at them and asked, “Are you not also going to leave?” They responded with a simple, “Where are we to go? You alone have the words of life!” In other words, “Jesus, we have no idea how you’re going to get us out of this one or where our next meal is going to come from, but we’d rather stay in your presence because you alone can provide what we need at the moment we need it.” How can a plant dig deep roots and grow high fruit if over and over it’s plucked up and transported to different soil? In many ways, the lesson we can learn from Elimelek is to thrive where you’re planted, even if it seems dry right now.

Kristi and I once visited Napa Valley on a speaking trip to California. The region of Napa is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to. As far as your eye can see you take in the rolling hills peppered with rows of vineyards fading into a breathtaking California horizon. One of the greatest single moments of the trip was sitting outside under a canopy, sipping a glass of red wine and completely disregarding time -- or any other worry of life for that matter. There was only one thing that troubled me that afternoon and finally I had to interrupt our conversation to ask the Sommelier attending to us to resolve my confusion. 

“Excuse me, sir? This is our first time in Napa and I’ll have to admit, I’m a bit confused. It’s absolutely gorgeous here, but it’s different than I expected.” 

“How so?” He responded. 

“Well, I expected things to be a bit greener all around. I expected the soil to be lush and dark brown and moist. But when we walk up and down the rows of grapevines the soil seems really arid and rocky. Have you guys been experiencing a drought?”

He chuckled a little at me, “Well, kind of. The truth is we get very little rain out here in the valley.”

“Then why would people plant vineyards here? How do you get enough rain to support growth?” I was being lured into his trap. You could tell he loved teaching people about the processes of growing grapes and making wine.

“Well, you see, the lack of rainfall is precisely why it’s a prime place to plant vineyards. That wine you have in your glass right now. It’s exquisite, isn’t it?” 

I nodded in agreement.

“You see, the best wine comes from grapes that are grown in dry, arid soil. There is a distinct character that results in that kind of climate. And in order to produce that character, the vine must struggle.”

Friend, there is a distinct character God wants to draw out of you, but in order for the richness of that character to be produced, there must be a struggle. Jesus said in John 15 that He is the vine and we are the branches. If we remain in Him we will bear much fruit, but apart from Him we can do nothing. And the lesson we can learn from Elimelek in the opening lines of the Book of Ruth is this: If you just remain in Him even during the struggle, God will produce rich, succulent fruit in your life that will be a blessing to all.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION AND JOURNALING:

1. How could you immerse yourself in the places where you can experience God, even if they seem dry and desert like right now? What are a few practical ways you can do that?

2. What do you think God is trying to speak to you in this desert? How can you listen to what He is trying to say in your dry season? 

3. What might God be producing through you in spite of the dry and arid soul you find yourself in? What fruit has this struggle produced in your life?

PRAYER:

Lord, strengthen me during the dry seasons of my life. Draw near to me during times my soul feels parched and stagnant. Give me the strength and resilience to dig my roots even deeper into the dry soil. As I do, be my Provider and Sustainer. I will turn to You for my comfort and my joy. Refresh me with the living water You promise in Your Word. Take me to deeper places with You.