The Wilderness Calling: Finding Joy in the Journey, Not Just the Promised Land

If you’ve ever felt the pull of the ‘after’—the moment you finally cross the finish line, the moment you rest after the hardest climb—I know that feeling. I remember it vividly from my own mission days. The anticipation of just *slowing down*, of finally being done with the relentless pace of appointments, the constant need to be 'on,' and just being able to sit down and breathe. It felt like the ultimate reward.

But as I’ve been pondering the stories of the Old Testament, particularly the Israelites leaving Egypt, a pattern has really settled into my heart. We are taught that we are freed by the ordinances, that we pass through the gate, and then... we find ourselves in the wilderness. And sometimes, in the quiet moments, the wilderness feels dusty, hot, and profoundly uncomfortable.

It’s easy to treat the journey like a mere inconvenience—a necessary evil between the starting line and the promised paradise. We get so focused on the ‘arrival’ that we forget the very purpose of the trek. We think the goal is to *get* to the promised land, but what if the goal *is* the process of walking through the wilderness?

The Purpose of the Wilderness

The recent podcast episode really drove this home for me. The speaker highlighted that Moses repeatedly emphasized that the people needed to be free so they could go and sacrifice to the Lord *in the wilderness*. That’s a profound principle, isn't it? It shifts our focus from mere escape to active discipleship.

We are not here to simply *arrive* at perfection. We are here to learn how to be happy, how to be healthy, and how to grow to be like the Lord—and that requires sacrifice. It requires putting one foot in front of the other, even when our energy is low, even when the discomfort is palpable.

“We didn’t come here to finish all of that so we could rest. We came to sacrifice in the wilderness.”

This realization was a timely lesson for me. I’ve found myself shifting my goal: rather than striving to eliminate every stressor or achieve a magical state of constant ease, I’m learning to be grateful for the opportunity to *wear* myself out in the name of the Lord. Not in a martyr sense, but in the sense of cheerfully and willingly taking advantage of the challenges God sets before us.

When we keep our focus entirely on the 'promised land'—the perfect body, the perfect life, the perfect peace—we risk exhausting ourselves on things that will be freely given to us on the other side. What if we let go of that intense striving and trust that the Lord will bring the destination to us at the right time? What if we focus instead on the gift of the wilderness?

Finding Joy in the Present Struggle

I’ve learned that when I stop trying to *force* my feet into the promised land here in mortality, I find unexpected beauty, rest, and peace right here in the dust of the present moment. It’s in the small, sustained acts of faith—the daily choices to serve, to study, to endure the discomfort—that the real gospel principles are forged.

This isn't about minimizing struggle; it's about changing our *relationship* with struggle. It’s about seeing the sacrifice itself as the sacred act. I am so grateful for the path of discipleship—for the ordinances, for the covenants, and yes, even for the inevitable periods of feeling utterly unequipped.

If this resonates with you, I encourage you to join us for our next study session. We’re diving into the concept of discipleship in the wild places this week, and I think you’ll find it incredibly helpful for your personal testimony. Check out the details for our next gathering!

If you’re looking for something to ponder on your own, I highly recommend revisiting the principles of covenants in the Iron Rod. It’s a powerful reminder that our covenants are not just for the big moments, but for the day-to-day walk.