This Sunday, on our 19th wedding anniversary, my wife and I stood in the choir section and sang the hymn “Through the Wilderness.” Perhaps because it was a hymn for our anniversary, each line of the lyrics felt especially meaningful. As I let the beautiful melody and harmonies wash over me and became immersed in the song, my voice caught in my throat during the final phrase, “Through the wilderness.” Everyone has their own wilderness, but I believe the emotional waves were higher for me because I too had experienced a time that was particularly lonely and arduous.

In English, wilderness is ‘Wilderness’. The true nuance of this word can only be understood by directly experiencing the harsh desert climate of the Middle East. The wilderness I encountered while traveling through Israel and Palestine in the past was a place far closer to death than to life. A place scorching hot by day and bone-chilling cold by night, where not a single drop of water existed, where no tree or plant could survive—it was a land where human strength alone could not endure even a single day. Throughout the praise, that desolate landscape unfolded in my mind. I recalled standing alone in that place, where, as the lyrics say, if I let go of God’s hand, I could never survive. Memories of that solitary loneliness, the relief that I no longer had to walk that path, and gratitude for being led through that time all intertwined.

Suddenly, the intense struggles of my past as a delivery driver flashed before me like a panorama. Memories of hardship on the road overlapped with my present self, working at POSCO Tower in Songdo. God rescued me from that land of death and led me here. Of course, even in that wilderness-like time, there were small joys. Lunch shared with fellow drivers, moments of connection while doing Instagram Live on the Incheon Bridge crossing from Yeongjong Island to Songdo after finishing dawn deliveries… Looking back, all of that was God’s miracle, making flowers and grass grow even in the wilderness.

I confess that the wilderness was a place of emptying, yet also a blessed place that forced me to look only to the Lord. On our 19th wedding anniversary, I give all glory to God who made our marriage blossom in the wilderness and led us here to Ebenezer.