The Desert Dilemma.

Navigating the seasons you feel spiritually dry.

Hey Friends!

Before you jump into this week’s article, I just wanted to make sure that you were aware that The Lighthouse is a podcast too. Each week I record and post this same article, because I know some people prefer to listen rather than read. If that’s you, subscribe to The Lighthouse Podcast wherever you listen. For sake of ease, you can find links to subscribe on Spotify and Apple Podcasts below. I hope it’s helpful!

- Ryan

I spent two years training as a spiritual director. Four times in the first year, I traveled to a small town in Ohio for an extended residency. These weeks were unhurried times of contemplation, training, and group spiritual direction. As a result, they felt far less like weeks of training and more like transformational retreats. They were sacred times that I will forever cherish.

I also remember how it felt to come home from these trips. I felt like Moses coming down from the mountain after meeting with God (Exodus 34:29-35). My face may not have been shining, but…

• I felt like I could see God everywhere.

• I felt like I could feel Him in everything.

• I felt like I could hear Him all around me.

I came home experiencing the very thing I longed for most: deep intimacy with God.

But I’ve also experienced extended seasons that were quite the opposite. So, I’m familiar with the confusion that accompanies having no clue where God is or what He’s up to. I know what it is to not feel God’s presence. Many times I open the Scriptures and don’t feel like God is speaking to me. I know how disorienting it can be to have spiritual practices that were once doorways through which to experience God feel like dead rituals done out of obligation. I know what it is to doubt. I know the dissonance of having to teach things I’m struggling to believe myself.

My point is, our relationship with God is marked by seasons. Sometimes it feels like spring, brimming with life. Other times it feels like winter, dormant and cold. Many people of faith before us referred to the latter as desert seasons. Spiritual deserts feel dry and arid. Desert seasons are often marked by apathy and doubt. Sometimes these seasons last for a day. Other times they can last a decade. Desert seasons are disorienting and difficult.

Because these seasons are so challenging, I want to encourage you and share some practical advice. Let's start with some encouragement:

Encouragement #1: Don’t freak out… it’s totally normal. The sobering truth is, you can’t follow Jesus and avoid the desert. Jesus’ own life in the Spirit led Him straight into the desert (Mark 1:12), and so will ours. Desert seasons aren’t a sign that something is wrong. They are an everyday part of faith.

Encouragement #2: Don’t give up… it’s going to pass. One of the hardest parts about desert seasons is that they feel like they will last forever. But the desert is only a season. Despite how it feels, it won’t last forever. Like all seasons, the desert will pass.

Encouragement #3: Don’t miss out… it’s a sign of a new season. Everything that dies in our desert seasons makes way for something fresh to be born. Henri Nouwen wrote,

“In the desert, we become the open space in which God can come to us. The solitude of the desert purifies our faith.”

The desert is always a sign that God is doing His deepest work.

So to review… the desert is a normal part of faith, it will pass, and it promises transformation. The question is, how do we navigate these seasons that often feel so awful? Let me close with some practical advice:

Switch things up.

There’s a story of the Old Testament prophet Elijah that I love. In 1 Kings 17, Elijah lives by the Wadi Cherith after telling King Ahab that a famine was coming. Verse 6 says, “The ravens kept bringing him bread and meat in the morning and in the evening, and he would drink from the wadi.” But what was once an oasis for Elijah becomes a desert. The wadi dries up due to a lack of rain, and God tells him it’s time to move. In the same way, our desert seasons are an invitation to experience God in a fresh way. Perhaps the practices that have carried you in a previous season aren’t going to carry you into the next. Or maybe God wants to expand your “spiritual toolbox.” He might want to help you learn new ways to position yourself for a deeper relationship with Him. Rather than cling to what has been, try seizing the chance to switch things up.

Talk to someone.

The only thing worse than feeling like you’re suffering spiritually is doing so in silence. Silence empowers shame. Shame says you’re in the desert as a punishment or because you’re not “good at faith.” But that’s a lie. Again, there is no shame in feeling spiritually dry. The truth is, most of us spend far more time in the desert than we do in the garden. It’s hard to be human. Faith is challenging. The more we all choose to open up about this, the more normative it feels. So tell a friend. Tell to your pastor. Find a spiritual director. Talk to someone about where you are and what you’re feeling.

Read others' stories.

Biographies and memoirs are a gift. They invite us to see our own struggles in the experiences of others. As I said, you and I are not the first followers of Jesus to experience dry seasons in our spiritual lives. Read about Brennan Manning’s wrestling match to feel he belonged to God. Read Terry Wardle’s journey from ministry “success” to a psychiatric hospital. Read about Philip Yancey’s struggle to embrace grace. Read about Eugene Peterson’s struggle to maintain his soul in the machine of modern ministry. My point is, you’re not alone! Many have struggled before us, and they have also left us the gift of their stories through which to understand our own.

Engage what inspires.

Apathy often accompanies the desert. You don’t feel like reading Scripture. You don’t feel like praying. You don’t feel like engaging your faith community. Rather than surrender to this apathy, look for the things that inspire your faith. It might be a piece of music. It might be a particular place in nature. It might be time spent with a particular friend. Sometimes we believe the only way through feelings of apathy is to put our head down, dig deep, and push ahead. But God has filled the world with beauty meant to stir our affection for Him. So ask Him for the eyes to see it!

Take a retreat.

Those spiritual direction residencies were life-changing because I was away with God for an extended period of time. One reason Jesus leads us into the desert is due to His desire for more time with us. Rather than resist His leading, we can respond to it by carving out the time and space to get away with Him. In her book Invitation to Retreat, Ruth Haley Barton writes, “Retreat in the context of the spiritual life is an extended time apart for the purpose of being with God and giving God our full and undivided attention; it is, as Emilie Griffin puts it, ‘a generous commitment to our friendship with God.’” I know you’re busy like everyone else. I know you already have too many commitments and too much responsibility. But that’s all the more reason to design a retreat for yourself. So what would an “extended time apart” to be with God look like for you?

More than anything else, if you’ve invested the time to read this all the way through, I hope you’re encouraged. Not because there is a quick and easy means to hack your way through the season you’re in. I hope you’re encouraged by the fact that you aren’t the first to find yourself in the desert. It also won’t last forever. I’m praying you can hold onto the hope that rain is coming.

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Just before you go, my singular hope is to help you develop a deeper experience of relationship with God. To do that requires understanding your questions, struggles and obstacles. So let me ask you:

What do you find hard about life with God?

If something comes to mind, shoot me a DM, or email me at ryanhuguley@gmail.com. Your answer might just be my next article! Thanks for reading.