Transition is a word full of meaning. It’s marked by growth pains, but pregnant with opportunity. Everyone in life goes through a transition of some sort: going through puberty (thank you Lord for your mercies); heading to college; getting a new job; moving to a new city; starting a family. Transition periods can be long or short, smooth or rocky, sad or joyful, or any combination of those things. But regardless of their type, they necessarily grow us for what’s next.
The Bible features countless examples of transition. Perhaps most notable is the young nation of Israel, who experienced a long transitory period in a wilderness. Directly after their great exodus out of Egypt, they did not immediately waltz their way into the Promise Land. They wandered through a desert, instead—for 40 years.
Their transition period—with all of its trials, temptations, and lessons—is not too different from what we experience transitory periods as well. Let’s spend some time walking alongside the Israelites as they walked through their transition period; for we can learn a lot from their story as we walk through our own.
Transitory Trials
The Israelites had many needs in the desert, but the greatest of all was food. Deserts do not exactly have enough ‘resources’ to supply a nation of 2 million and counting. Miraculously, as they wandered, God rained down ‘manna’ from heaven (which is described as bread) so that they wouldn’t starve.
What’s so interesting about the manna that God provided, however, is that it would rot by the end of the day. Now, that begs the obvious question: If the Israelites were wandering through a desert—where there’s absolutely no resources—why would God set a 24-hour expiration date on something so vital?
It might appear cruel that God would do something like this… but it can’t be ‘cruel’ because after all, He was providing miraculously for them in a wilderness. That was an act of grace in itself.
The reason why God set such a fast expiration on the manna is because he wanted to grow the muscle of Israel’s faith—that God would, in fact, provide enough for them every day. Ultimately, it was God’s desire that they’d develop an innate, reflexive faith that affirmed God’s ability to provide and his loving eagerness to do so—every single day, in whatever desert they’d wander through.
Wilderness, starvation, longing, scarcity, discomfort, displacement—are all ‘trials’ typical of transitions. But these trials exist to exercise our faith and trust in God. However, two main temptations typically emerge in seasons of transition that pose a threat to trust and to triumph.
Temptation To Not Trust
The first temptation was for the Israelites to grab as much manna as possible on one day, stockpiling it so that they wouldn’t have to worry about how much or how little they’d have for other days. The thought was, “If God doesn’t provide tomorrow—for whatever reason—then we’ll be fine because the other refrigerator will be all stocked up.” The temptation was to disbelieve that God could and would take care of them not only today, but also in the future.
And so, to combat the temptation to disbelieve, God caused the manna to rot by the end of each day. God made their daily bread to be just that, daily. Now, they were forced to trust him daily to provide exactly what they need for each day, not becoming self-reliant or disbelieving. And so, their daily bread became more than just daily bread, but a daily exercise of faith—believing that God would take care of them for each new set of 24 hours. God did as he promised, every single day.
Before the Israelites were to inherit the Promised Land, God wanted to first give them something even better: a faith that knew and trusted the Promisor. God certainly cared that the Israelites have food for their physical sustenance; but more than that, he cared about their spiritual sustenance. And in love, he wouldn’t let them live fat off circumstances with a crippled faith. They wouldn’t go far for long. Instead, he straightened and strengthened their faith so that they’d be able to run in any circumstance.
The contrast is stark: God gave them solely their necessities circumstantially (food); but in doing so, he gave them abundant grace spiritually (faith). While God was weaning them off the sugar of circumstance, he was leaning them up on the nutrient of faith.
One main temptation in transition is to not trust that God is providing and will provide.
Temptation To Not Triumph
The second main temptation for the Israelites as they went through transition was to look backward instead of forward. Oftentimes, in periods of transition—because we can’t see the future and its opportunity—we are tempted to miss, reminisce, and dwell on the past.
The Israelites did the same thing. The wilderness was uncomfortable, difficult, extenuating, and miserable. And what was their impulse reaction? Missing Egypt.
Read from Exodus 16:2–3.
And the whole congregation of the people of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness, and the people of Israel said to them, “Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full, for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”
Skepticism of the future exacerbates nostalgia of the past. Egypt was an objectively horrible place. Under Pharaoh, they were oppressed, slaughtered, enslaved, and manipulated. And yet, in the difficulty of the wilderness, they longed to be back in Egypt under Pharaoh’s command. Here’s why:
In this wilderness, they were starving and parched. And so, they remembered the “meat pots and bread to the full” (v. 3). Their memory became so selective upon one certain desire (food) that they were actually inclined to want the entire experience of Egypt back for it. The Promise Land was before them! How absurd, right? It sounds a lot like trading your inheritance for a bowl of soup, doesn’t it? (Gen. 25)
I’ve heard before that, “There is much delusion with nostalgia.” Even the “meat pots and bread to the full” were likely being romanticized in their memories after all.
In seasons of transition, don’t we often do the same? Our memory becomes highly selective on a certain unfulfilled desire; and we want back an entire situation because it offers comfort and certainty in that one area, although it’s not God’s best for us overall. And in so doing, we choose to retroactively dwell on the past instead of proactively trusting him now as he providentially guides us into the future.
The temptation in transition is to not triumph, looking backward instead of looking forward. But the Bible and even pure experience makes clear several clear truths: when you look back, you 1) romanticize the past for better than it actually was 2) slow yourself down from attaining the inheritance God wills for you to claim.
Weaning & Leaning
Although the Israelites lived 4000 years ago, their trials and temptations are not dissimilar from our own. Similar to their experience, if we stockpile the resources God’s given us today and look to that thing to give us security for tomorrow—clinging to what He’s given to us instead of clinging to who He is to us—then it will rot.
In fact, not only will those resources rot—proving to be rather ineffective solutions for your situation anyways—the self-sufficiency and lack of trust in God will make us rot spiritually as well. When we rely on circumstances as our daily bread, the resources we cling to will rot and so will we.
This is because when we look for security and joy in ‘that thing’—be it a friend group, job, or relationship—we apply a deifying appetite on it that only God can gratify. And the result is that it rots those things (because they can’t handle our worship) and it rots us (because we were made primarily for God—not a friend group, job, or relationship).
People, circumstances, and things can be good, but if we make them our god, that’s when we will rot them and they will rot us.
In grace, that’s why God tells us to be open-handed with our resources and circumstances and to hold fast to Him. And that’s also why He offers us ‘new morning mercies’ (Lam. 3:22-23), which are the ‘daily bread’ of his grace to face whatever situation we are staring into, and doing so only one day at a time (Mt. 6:11).
This is precisely why God calls to “…not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Mt. 6:34). Yet, the converse is equally true: Sufficient for today are God’s new mercies.
But there’s something particularly beautiful about these new morning mercies—namely, they’re not just sufficient for today, they’re actually abundant for today.
Not Sufficient, But Abundant
Let’s track back to the Israelites’ temptation to save more manna for one day than they could reasonably eat, but enough so they could stock the fridge for a week or two.
When we read the story, it’s easy to spot the command, “Only take enough for the day,” and its corresponding temptation, “Take even more for tomorrow.”
Stop right there. Let’s read into that temptation a little deeper.
Here’s the profound, underlying truth: If it was possible to take more than you needed for one day’s provision, that means the provision God gave each day was way more than they even needed for that one day after all!
In other words, the temptation to stockpile existed only because there was more than what they even needed for that one day anyways! This temptation, oddly enough, proves the truth more than it can actually discount it—namely, that God is providing not just sufficiently, but abundantly.
It was true for the Israelites, and it is true for us, too.
When we feel worn out and spiritually hungry, it’s not because there isn’t enough food to eat and water to drink. It’s because we’re feasting on the wrong things. No wonder we feel weak and malnourished. The truth is, there’s enough grace at your disposal for not only yourself, but for many others as well. So take and eat, and then take and share. The supply will not run out for today. And God’s grace will be served hot and fresh again tomorrow, in abundance.
Triumphal Faith in Transition
Where do you find yourself right now in life? Based on this story, you can be assured that life has its seasons and that God has his reasons. You might not know why, but you can trust God to take care of you—every single day. You might feel like you’ve been wandering through a desert of limited provision and scarcity of preference for quite some time. But in reality, God has been providing. And the way God sees it, this season is not a deviation of his plan; in fact, it’s an invitation to exercise the muscle of your faith in God’s faithfulness that wouldn’t have happened otherwise.
Every day—especially during seasons wandering through life’s wildernesses of transition—we’re presented with an invitation to trust God for enough grace for the day. God gives new morning mercies. They’re there. It just means we need to lay hold of all that is at our disposal.
But how do we do that? Not seeing any manna here, Austin.
Practically speaking, it means to start preaching to yourself and to stop listening to yourself. It means to start gazing at God and glancing at your circumstances, not gazing at your circumstances and glancing at God. It means feeding your faith with the gospel and starving yourself with your sight.
When you listen to yourself, you start playing that old, familiar, broken-record of circumstances over again—the desert, the wilderness, the need, the desire—a soundtrack played in the minor key of unbelief in God’s love, power, and wisdom.
This happens to us all. But once that minor melody starts playing its tune again, you need to blast the truthful anthem of God’s love, power, and wisdom over your life. Drown out the constant, background noise of anxiety. Drown out the melancholy melody of sight instead of faith. Turn up the louder tune of God’s character. And simply sing along—affirming back to God and what is true of Himself and, therefore, what is true of your circumstances.
He himself and who He is to you— good, not cruel; able, not weak; sovereign, not chaotic—is this daily bread you need. He is the “Bread of Life” (Jn. 6:35). You just need to take and eat; that’s where spiritual sustenance is found.
Resting on Jesus is your daily bread, and it’s a daily exercise of faith. It will do wonders to sustain you spiritually and to strengthen the muscle of your faith—both of which would have been so much weaker otherwise.
Be assured, while our faith is getting worked out through our own personal deserts, God is working out the details of our circumstances… making us into people who can handle heavier joys, bigger blessings, and greater responsibilities. To be sure, a malnourished soul and a crippled faith wouldn’t be able to support or steward those things well anyways.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)
What a powerful truth—that as you trust in him, he will fill you with abundance. That’s an epic promise, and an even more epic provision. Not just for yesterday in seasons of harvest, but for today in season of drought, and for tomorrow in seasons of growth. Come eat, saints.
“but those who seek the LORD lack no good thing…” (Psalm 34:10)
“Stop defining and limiting your future in terms of your past. Start defining it in terms of your God.” –John Piper
