What Does God Want to Do In Your Desert?

I have a Death Valley. Do you? You know, that dry place somewhere deep inside, where you see no evidence of growth, no evidence of beauty, and no evidence of life? It’s an area of life you dwell in as infrequently as possible. It’s an area you’ve prayed about, a place that swallows up prayers, leaving more questions than answers. It’s just there, like an arid, sunken, parched space inside of you that you wish Jesus would fix.

But he hasn’t.

He can, but he won’t.

You know his ways are higher. You know he loves you more than you could fathom. You know there is a perfect plan behind his “No.” It doesn’t change the fact that your desert valley gets used against you. It sometimes shows up on the devil’s slideshow as he projects this kind of material on the walls of your mind, tempting you to believe you are a wasteland littered with too many ruins for Christ to redeem.

You know it’s not true, but as you look at the emptiness in this area of your life—this Death Valley as we’re calling it—how can you argue?

One night just before my birthday, I felt uncomfortable and hungry–not food hungry, but spirit hungry. I wish I could tell you I opened my Bible and found what I needed to put my mind at ease, or that I prayed some truths from Psalms to encourage my unsettled heart. No, that would have been admirable. Instead, I went online and scanned the trending news articles, looking for something.

The headline, “Super Bloom in Death Valley” stood out to me. The article contained a video explaining how an autumn flood had allowed for 1.5 inches of rain to reach the valley. As I watched the video (which you can find here), Park Ranger Alan Van Valkenburg explained that the perfect conditions could allow for Death Valley to be covered in wildflowers.

I was transfixed by the video, just listening with wonder at the beauty of this illustration. Then Van Valkenburg said one phrase that hit my heart in a tender place:  “There are so many seeds out there just waiting.”

Tears came to my eyes as I considered his statement. I know it sounds sentimental, and maybe I was just tired, but every time I think about it, a flicker of hope reignites within me.

Perhaps I have discounted the unseen. Perhaps you have too.

Perhaps you have concluded that since your Death Valley is devoid of a robust landscape, it is devoid of something magnificent.

That’s a lie.

Here’s the truth: just because you can’t see blooms doesn’t mean there aren’t seeds. Just because you can’t see color doesn’t mean there’s no life. [Tweet “Just because you can’t see growth doesn’t mean God’s not working.”] God doesn’t need permission to weave a redemption story beyond the threshold of our physical sight and spiritual perception.

Like a true master, God keeps the most stunning aspects of your redemption story hidden until the final scene. His unseen work might be his finest artistry. Don’t assume you’ve seen all there is to see.

You and I, we don’t know the potential of a desert valley covered in seeds. We don’t know how much rain could be enough rain to awaken the beauty we’ve longed for. We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait before we see answers to prayers we’ve been praying for “too long” by our standards.

Here’s what I do know: as long as I keep sowing seeds of obedience, trust, love, and praying the promises of God, while clinging to everything I know of him, then there is something. “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor. 4:18 NIV).

How do you fix your eyes on what is unseen? You can’t see it, so how can you focus on it? I’ll let you answer this for yourself, but for me, I have to open the same eyes that I use when God’s Word urges me to fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith (Heb. 12:2).

There is a way of spiritual seeing that exposes potential where earthly eyes detect only emptiness. If God formed the whole world from a void, and we are made in his image, then I wonder if we can exercise the ability to see seeds where our physical eyes see a desert floor.

The geographical Death Valley in California experienced a “super bloom” this past spring. Gold, pink, orange, and pops of purple lit up this hard-to-reach space. Life, beauty, and something more existed. For a brief time, we saw that death isn’t the only thing lingering in the valley.

Your Death Valley, as it is now, is not a good indication of what it will be. Your rocky crags and parched plains aren’t too dry for God’s drenching truth to soften. Your prayers are heard, even if they aren’t answered as you’d like. Your hard-to-reach places aren’t hard to reach, and neither are you. Your Death Valley is a place that is real, but not dead.

If it took just 1.5 inches of rain to make North America’s lowest and driest place explode with blooms, imagine what the God of the Universe, with unlimited resources could do with the one place you’re most eager to see his presence. Imagine.

The next time the devil attempts to show me that I’ve got a wasteland, I’ll say, “If you really want to go there, allow me to remind you that God does his best work with nothing.”

Lindsey Feldpausch is a creative writer, graphic design enthusiast, social media coordinator, and sinner saved by grace who lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her worship leader/youth pastor husband and four delightful kiddos fill life with unbelievably amusing quotes and sweet snuggles. She thinks God is awesome and that the best adventure starts with saying yes to that still, small voice.