Finding Our Wilderness in the Noise
But despite Jesus’ instructions, the report of his power spread even faster, and vast crowds came to hear him preach and to be healed of their diseases. But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer. — Luke 5:15–16 (NLT)
Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that everything else fell away? For me, it happens every time I think about Steel Magnolias. It is a wonderful movie about life, family, and friendship, and I enjoyed it from beginning to end. Yet there is one scene I can hardly think about without tearing up. Without spoiling it for anyone who hasn’t seen it, M’Lynn, the mother at the heart of the story, suffers a devastating loss, and her response is so raw and honest that it pulls you right in beside her. In that moment, and I suspect anyone who has seen it would agree, the room around you disappears. You stop hearing the noise. You are fixed on her grief, her frustration, and her helplessness. You are in sync with her.
I have wondered why connecting with God does not always come that easily. As followers of Christ, we already have a relationship with God through Him. So, that is not really the question. The question is whether we feel it. Our days are full of distractions and responsibilities that claim our time, and even our prayers get crowded out by whatever is happening at home. I am not talking about knowing who Jesus is or being grateful for all He has done to change our lives; most of us have that. I am talking about the kind of closeness where the Holy Spirit seems so near that every breath, every step, and every moment feels shared with Him. If a few minutes of a movie can quiet the room for me, why does the noise so often win when I sit down to pray?
Luke gives us a picture of Jesus in exactly that kind of noise. He had just healed a man with leprosy and told him not to tell anyone, but to go show himself to the priest as the law of Moses required. Word got out anyway. The crowds grew larger, and more people came to hear Him preach and to be healed. By any measure, this was the moment to stay put. The need was real, and the people were right there. Instead, Luke tells us, “Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.” Often. Not once, and not only when things were slow. He stepped away precisely when the demand for Him was at its peak. This was how Jesus stayed in step with the Father, and Luke shows the same pattern again before He chose His twelve disciples, when He went up on a mountain and prayed all night (Luke 6:12).
That convicts me, gently. When life gets loud, my instinct is to push harder, to answer one more message or solve one more problem, and to tell myself I will pray once things settle down. Jesus did the opposite. He did not try to out-shout the noise; He walked away from it long enough to hear His Father. And just as the room went quiet for me in that movie because my attention belonged entirely to one person, the noise begins to fade in prayer when we give God our whole attention. We do not need a special prayer room to do that. We need a wilderness of our own, a place set apart. It might be a room with the door closed, a quiet walk, or even the front seat of your car before you head inside. The place matters less than the choice to step away.
And what we find there is worth the choice. The prophet Isaiah put it this way: “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” (Isaiah 26:3). Fixed is the right word. It is the same focus that comes so easily in a darkened theater, turned toward the One who never stops paying attention to us. So, perhaps the invitation is simply to stop fighting the noise and start leaving it, even for a few minutes. Find your wilderness. Fix your thoughts on Him. The peace you have been looking for may already be waiting there.
What noise have you been trying to push through instead of stepping away from? Where is your wilderness, the place you could step away to, even for a few minutes this week?
A PRAYER
My prayer is we remember the Father is never far from us, even when the noise of our days makes it hard to feel Him near. Teach us to follow Jesus into the quiet places. Help us set aside our distractions long enough to fix our thoughts on You, and keep us in Your perfect peace as we step back into the work You have given us. Amen.