There are many stories in the scriptures that mention a “wilderness”—they have their setting in the wilderness, or someone who comes from the wilderness, or someone who goes into the wilderness, or the concept of a wilderness. It is a fascinating theme.
In Hebrew, the word for “wilderness” is “מדבר” (meed-bar), and someone once told me that it means “the place from which God speaks.” That made sense to me because I knew that “לדבר” means “to speak” and the prefix “מ” means “from.” I suppose, in this sense, it might be more correct to say that it means “the place of speaking” and that it is implied that the greatest “speaking” you can engage in is with God. But it can also mean “that which comes from speaking,” or the place to which you go after speaking with God—the result of a conversation with God, and you can find numerous examples of both uses in the scriptures.
It is interesting to me that the idea of a “wilderness” calls to our minds a place that is uninhabited and untamed. It might appear to be disordered, but it is actually a place where you can more easily see the natural order of things. It is not a place that is desired by people who think that “civilization” is better. Only a determined few see the benefit of it and feel a pull to march into it. What is distasteful to one because it is lonely and barren is what is enticing to another because it is what connects us to the divine.
Coming closer to God doesn’t mean that you have fewer wilderness experiences. There are many times when God commands people (as a result of their close association with him) to flee into the wilderness. That’s such a funny thing, too, if you think about it. When we talk about “fleeing,” we imply that there is some danger that we will encounter if we don’t “flee.” And yet, under “normal” circumstances, who thinks that running into the wilderness is a great idea? When we don’t perceive a danger as eminent, we have time to fool ourselves into thinking that what is immediately upon us isn’t as bad as it is or that it isn’t there at all. The wilderness can look so unappealing compared to what you currently perceive that you would be willing to turn around and walk away from it, even though you know that what you would return to would eventually destroy you (like the children of Israel wanting to return to the fleshpots of Egypt.) But those who are wise understand that the wilderness is the exact place to which you must flee.
Because the wilderness can better connect us to God, it is often where one goes to receive God’s promises. The strength that you gain in braving the wilderness enables you to encounter greater trials, and many times his promises to you will strengthen you to temporarily set aside your now-prized wilderness experience to go back and endure more trials in order to help others see the benefit of their own wilderness experience (like Nephi’s return to Jerusalem to invite Ishmael’s family into the wilderness).
Wilderness experiences are necessarily (and can be deliciously) humbling. They are where you best see yourself in relationship to God. There is no pretense—no illusion that you can try to hide behind. The conversation between you and God is honest and true (held to an exact and precise standard). It is beautiful to those who desire it and desirable to those who see it as beautiful.