What Do We Want?

Be careful what you wish for, the old saying goes, because you just might get it. 

I don’t know about you, but I’ve wished for a lot of foolish things in my time. When I was a child, I once wished that ice cream was the only food that existed. When my wish didn’t come true, I was disappointed (to put it mildly). But now, as an adult who ardently enjoys a good, medium-rare steak (not to mention countless other foods), I’m grateful that my childhood wish was not granted to me. 

I don’t make such childish wishes anymore, but I still make some pretty foolish wishes. For instance, there are plenty of days where I wish that my life would never be hard or difficult again: I just want to relax and sip on my coffee while I read Dostoevsky novels, never again to be disturbed by my neighbors or by the world (or by Christ, for that matter). 

Thank God, I’ve not yet got what I wished for -- because if I did, I’d miss out on pretty much everything that’s made my life so rich and full. After all, as Jesus himself once said, the way is hard that leads to life (Matthew 7:14). 

On my best days, I know this. But on my less-than-best days, I still find myself trying to wish the hardness of life away. I’m sure that you too have experienced this. Of course, as it turns out, we’re in a pretty large company of people who have wished the same -- not just in our day, but across the span of history.

I Wish, I Wish for a Little Fish

Take the Israelites, for example. Paul said that everything written about them was written for our instruction (Romans 15:4). So, let us indeed learn from them by considering a moment when they made a pretty foolish wish of their own -- a wish that was granted, by the way, to their great dismay. 

At this point in their story, the Israelites had been rescued from their Egyptian chains, and were making their way slowly but surely to the promised land. Though they were roaming in a vast wilderness, the Lord provided them with bread on a daily basis, called manna, which nourished and sustained them. 

But somewhere along the way, as the Israelites traversed the barren, seemingly endless wilderness landscape, some of the people started thinking about how good they had it back in Egypt: three squares a day, with all the fish they could want, not to mention the cool and crisp taste of fresh cucumbers (Numbers 11:4-6)! That small rabble of people ended up driving the whole nation to tears over how much they missed their Egyptian chow.

So there’s Moses, hearing all of this racket, and he starts wondering aloud to God, “Why me? I can’t take care of all these people, especially when they’re biting at my neck for meat and asking for the impossible.” Both Moses and the Israelites wished for an easier life, but with some crucial differences.

You Will Not Bear it Alone

Moses wanted some help; nay, he needed some help. Even though he’d already appointed judges to help with the various disputes of the people (Exodus 18), he still felt the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders, like a lone dog trying to pull a 50-man bobsled up an icy hill. He still felt lonely at the head of the nation.

But it isn’t good for a man to be alone, so God made a provision for Moses: he told him to set apart 70 men of the elders. These 70 men would be given some of the Spirit that was on Moses, so that he wouldn’t have to bear the burden of the people all by himself (Numbers 11:16-17). So far, so good. In fact, the Lord had really given Moses above and beyond what he asked for, because what Moses actually asked for was the sweet release of death if he had to take one more blessed step. Instead, God gave him just the kind of help he needed. 

So it may be that, when we feel like we’re at the end of the rope (and the end is quite frayed as it turns out), God has another rope for us to grab hold of. As the apostle Paul shows us in Galatians, God has placed us in a community full of Spirit-drenched people, and we are all to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2). Our wish for the help of others has been granted, so to speak. 

Getting What You (Shouldn’t) Want

But the rabble also got what they wished for. They said they wanted meat; but what they were really saying was, “Why did we ever leave Egypt? We’re just going to die out here” (Numbers 11:20). They were, in other words, rejecting God and spitting on the gifts he’d given them. They essentially wished to do away with God. God saw this -- and he granted the rabble their wish.

I imagine that it went something like this, though I can’t be certain: it was a bright, cloudless day, and an Israelite child was playing a game of kick-the-rock out toward the edge of the camp. He darted back and forth, kicking up clouds of dust as he chased one particular stone with his feet. He decided, on a whim, that he wanted to kick his little rock with all his might, so he swung his leg back and thrust it forward as hard as he could and -- WHACK -- his feet came out from underneath him and he fell flat on his back. He laid there for a moment, groaning, with his eyes closed. Dust settled on his face. When he finally opened his eyes, the sky was utterly darkened by clouds. But as the boy strained his eyes, he realized that he wasn’t looking at clouds at all; he was looking at quail. Thousands upon thousands of them, utterly covering the sky. Then, like felt-covered stones, they began falling down. 

“Now a wind went out from the LORD and drove quail in from the sea. It scattered them up to [three feet] deep all around the camp, as far as a day’s walk in any direction” (Numbers 11:31). 

God had sent the meat that the rabble so desperately craved. But he did not send it as a reward for their temper-tantrum; he sent it as a judgment: “But while the meat was still between their teeth and before it could be consumed, the anger of the LORD burned against the people, and he struck them with a severe plague” (Numbers 11:33).

If what we wish for goes squarely against God and his word, then it is a terrible thing indeed to be given what we wish for. Just ask the Israelites who grumbled for meat. One of the worst forms of judgment is to simply be given over to our sinful cravings and evil desires (Romans 1:28). 

In light of such a story, here’s the million dollar question: what do we want? What do we wish for? Do we desire to know God and love our neighbors? Or do we wish that we could just be left alone to experience life on our own terms? What our hearts want makes all the difference. 

So, do be careful what you wish for -- because in the end, you just might get it.