Too much of a good thing, or even the right amount at the wrong time, can leave us feeling sickened and empty. I’m reminded of my daughter’s recent birthday, where she got to enjoy cake for the first time. For the initial bites, she was clearly enjoying herself. But by the time she got about halfway into her cupcake, she wasn’t so enthusiastic anymore and took to smashing the rest on her tray instead. She figured out pretty quickly that sugar is definitely best enjoyed in small quantities! The wrong portion of a good thing isn’t limited to just birthday cake and that latest TV show, however. There is a deeper spiritual application as well.
Take water, for instance. Like most natural phenomena, it is both a force of life and a force of destruction. In the desert, it is sought after for relief from the heat of the day, but it is deadly when rushing in a flash flood. There are countless Biblical examples of times when too much or too little water had devastating consequences. Noah probably understood this well when he finally touched on dry land after months afloat. And Elijah saw how the land shriveled and cried out for rain after years of drought. We don’t have to look too far into Scripture to find some reference to water, rain, or streams. So why are they there? I can take away one important nugget from all of it. That water is like the circumstances in our lives: sometimes desirable, sometimes not, but always necessary whether we choose to see the blessing or not.
After years spent in slavery and miraculous rescue by God, the children of Israel find themselves wandering in the desert, tired, thirsty, and hungry. Although they had just witnessed ten plagues, the entire Egyptian army being consumed by the Red Sea (which they passed through on dry land), and the very presence of God guiding them as a pillar of fire and cloud, they immediately grumble about not having water to drink. Then, when God provides clean water, they immediately turn around and declare that they would be better off in Egypt, because at least they had food there! God in His mercy doesn’t smite them down then and there, but provides them with manna from Heaven to eat. Of course, they later complain about how sick they are of eating manna, and the cycle begins again.
Every time I read this passage, I am astounded that someone could be so ungrateful for a gift so clearly provided by God, and every time, I’m convicted of my own thankless heart. How many times do we behave in this way towards God? So often we pray for things to happen: opportunities, conversations, circumstances. Then, when given those very things, we consume them and ask for the next thing instead of thanking God for the answered prayers. Or worse, we push them away and ignore them completely. Where we could make the best use of what we’ve been given, we tend to turn up our noses because we didn’t get quite what we asked for. After all, God has a way of answering prayers in His own way, and usually it’s very different from how we were envisioning.
Sometimes we are given trials to endure and we’re left wondering where is God in all of this? It doesn’t feel fair that we should be pursuing holiness and then be handed a difficult situation that tests us beyond our limits. Or so we think. For James writes “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness,” (James 1:2). I certainly desire to be more steadfast, and I know it doesn’t just happen. It comes out of situations where I practice being faithful, even if they are difficult in the moment.
We are precious in God’s sight, more than any precious metal or stone. The Lord calls out to His people in Isaiah 48:10, “Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction.” He does care for us and desire the best for us, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be tested. In fact, it is because He loves us that we are given a chance to test our faith. He is not being punitive or spiteful to allow trials, because they are often the method He uses to make us stronger. If we ignore the opportunity to learn from difficulty, we are no better than the Israelites complaining about their discomfort.
When I see the waters of life rising around me, I can choose to sink or swim. To sink means to give in to the pressure and see every trial with an ungrateful, complaining heart. This path leads nowhere but to more misery and further separation from God. To swim means to cry out with the words of David: “Praise the Lord! Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!” (Ps. 106:1). This path leads to a deeper relationship with Christ, a stronger dependence on the Father, and a faith tested and purified by the fires of life.