There’s a Christianese term I’ve often heard used around circles of believers, to refer to times when we feel dry, empty, or uninspired: the “desert season.” Instead of describing all these elements of what it’s like not to “feel” God close, not to feel encouraged or motivated or “on fire,” we can sum it up by saying we’re in a “desert season,” and most people assume what that entails.
Before his conception, John the Baptist was prophesied to come and bring joy to many, to be filled with the Spirit and with power, and turn wanderers back to God.[1] He fulfilled these prophecies and was born miraculously to Elizabeth, who had been barren her whole life and was elderly by the time she had her firstborn.[2] He was born of faith and promise; Elizabeth—who was called “righteous before God”—took the Lord at His word. In the same moment the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary to tell her she would carry the Messiah, he also told her that Elizabeth had miraculously conceived John.[3] So Mary went to visit Elizabeth (who was a relative of hers), and at the sound of Mary’s voice, John leapt in his mother's womb.[4] It was as if John could already recognize the Messiah before he was even born.
John was of priestly descent; Elizabeth was a descendant of Israel's first high priest, Aaron, and his father, Zechariah, served as a priest in Jerusalem's temple during Abia's course.[5] He was born just months before Jesus, and set apart to be a Nazarite even before his conception. He had the incredible of honor of paving the way for the ministry of Jesus Himself, who called John the “greatest man born of a woman.”[6] The calling on this man’s life was extraordinary, and there was no one else we know of quite like him.
And where did John the Baptist spend the majority of this extraordinary life?
In the desert.
Now let’s look at the flip side of this same life: John led an incredibly disciplined lifestyle. From even before he was born, he was required not to drink any alcohol, refrain from cutting his hair, and not come near to or touch a dead body, even if it was his mother or father.[7] He spent his early life dwelling in a rugged, mountainous tract of land between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea,[8] his clothing was rough, and he literally ate locusts and wild honey for sustenance.[9] John was in the wilderness all the way up until the beginning of his public ministry,[10] which lasted only a couple years before he was beheaded.
Sounds super fun, right? John led the polar opposite of a glamorous lifestyle. So how is it that he came out of the desert carrying a legacy powerful enough to prepare the way for Jesus?
The thing about the desert is that it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles. No lush green trees, running rivers, chirping birds. No shade for relief, water for refreshment, or flowers for color. Just dry, hot, vast, open wilderness. Everything is stripped down, and it’s quiet.
When your surroundings are silent, it’s easier to hear a still, small voice. When all the extra fluff is stripped out of our lives, it’s a chance to encounter Him on a more pure and intimate level than ever.
I believe that what John experienced in the dry wilderness, with no one and nothing but the voice of the Lord, was a kind of Living Water that one can only find in a desert season. When Gabriel prophesied of John before his birth, he told Zechariah that John would come “in the spirit and power of Elijah.”[11] Long before John ever lived, the Lord met Elijah in his time of trouble, with a voice described as a “low whisper.”[12] If John was to prepare a way for the Messiah in the spirit and power of Elijah, he too would have to be trained to hear this steady, quiet voice of the Lord.
Sometimes we’re in a land of running rivers, and we experience the powerful, resounding voice of the Lord described in Psalm 29 as being “over the waters.” Sometimes He speaks in thundering glory, and we can’t deny what we’ve heard. But often, He speaks in a gentle whisper that requires discipline to recognize. For many of us, it is in the desert that all the noise and distractions get stripped away, and in our barrenness we cry out to God. He meets us there, with the healing balm of a gentle whisper: “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”[13]
Being in a desert (whether figuratively or literally) is far from easy or comforting, but it is rich with spiritual treasure. We have many examples in scripture of the intense trial that can occur in deserts, followed by intense outpouring and provision. What do you get when olives, coconuts, seeds, or nuts are hard pressed on every side until what’s inside of them flows out? In other words, what do you get when good things are crushed?
Oil.
The oil that comes from crushing is a special kind of anointing—the fragrant oil of humility that’s worthy of being poured out on the feet of Jesus.[14] If we want our lives to be that kind of offering to the King, we have to redefine how we think of the “desert season.” It is not a time to surrender to emptiness, to resign ourselves to feeling dry and stale. The desert season is a time to encounter the God who makes rivers come from rock.[15]
If you’re in a desert, don’t waste this moment. He is waiting to meet you there.
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, “Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.” Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy. For waters break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert.[16]
He found him in a desert land, and in the howling waste of the wilderness; He encircled him, He cared for him, He kept him as the apple of His eye.”[17]
For the Lord comforts Zion; he comforts all her waste places and makes her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song.[18]
Autumn Crew is the Managing Editor of FAI Publishing. She lives in the Middle East and serves a number of disciple-making initiatives. She can be reached at autumncrew@faimission.org.
[1] Luke 1:13-17, Isaiah 40:3, Matthew 3:3
[2] Luke 1:7
[3] Luke 1:36
[4] Luke 1:39-45
[5] Luke 1:5
[6] Matthew 11:2-15
[7] Numbers 6:2-21
[8] Matthew 3:1-12
[9] Matthew 3:4, Mark 1:6
[10] Luke 1:80
[11] Luke 1:17
[12] 1 Kings 19:9-18
[13] Isaiah 43:19
[14] John 12:1-8
[15] Isaiah 48:21
[16] Isaiah 35:1-6
[17] Deuteronomy 32:10
[18] Isaiah 51:3