Milk and Honey Day 28: What The Wilderness Holds

One of the things that has surprised me most about studying the Promised Land in Scripture is how much of the story takes place before anyone gets there.

Everyone wants the payoff of the Promised Land. It's where the story is headed. It's the fulfillment of the promise. It's the inheritance. Yet when you read through the Old Testament, an awful lot happens before anyone ever crosses the Jordan.

The wilderness shows up again and again.

It's where manna appeared each morning. It's where water flowed from a rock. It's where people learned to trust God one day at a time instead of relying on what they could store, control, or see for themselves. It's where they were led by a cloud during the day and a pillar of fire at night.

The wilderness wasn't the destination, but it wasn't empty either.

I stumbled across the title for this painting while thinking about the meaning of flowers.

The flowers in the piece were chosen intentionally. Queen Anne's lace has long been associated with protection, refuge, healing, and grace found in overlooked places. Coneflowers symbolize resilience, restoration, and strength developed through hardship. Both thrive without perfect conditions. Both continue to grow where more delicate plants might struggle.

As I sat with those meanings, it struck me that none of them belong exclusively to the Promised Land.

Healing isn't reserved for arrival.

Strength isn't something we receive only after the journey is over.

Protection, provision, restoration, guidance, and grace all appear long before Israel ever reaches its destination.

The wilderness holds those things too.

And suddenly the title was obvious.

What the Wilderness Holds.

The river winding through the landscape speaks to provision. The honeycomb patterns hidden throughout the painting hint at a deeper structure beneath the surface, the belief that God is often at work in ways we cannot yet see. Together they point back to the same idea that has shaped so much of this collection.

The Promised Land matters.

The promise matters.

But so does the journey.

Because when I read these stories, I no longer see the wilderness as a place where nothing is happening. I see a place filled with daily evidence of God's faithfulness, even before the fulfillment of the promise comes into view.

This piece is done now and moving off my easel to dry.