Still in Deuteronomy.
At this point, I feel like Moses and I are splitting a charcuterie board somewhere in the wilderness while he passionately explains covenant theology for the seventeenth consecutive day. And honestly? I’m okay with it.
Because every time I read this book, something new jumps out at me.
This time it was Deuteronomy 18:9–14 — the passage where God warns Israel against the practices of the nations they are about to encounter in the Promised Land. Sorcery. Divination. Child sacrifice. Witchcraft. Mediums. Spiritists. Practices Scripture calls detestable and destructive.
And my very first thought was:
Wouldn’t it have been easier if God had just sent them into an abomination-free zone?
Seriously.
Why not clear the land first?
Why not create a spiritually neutral environment?
Why place His people directly in the middle of cultures saturated with compromise, corruption, and confusion?
Wouldn’t holiness be easier somewhere safer?
But the more I sat with the passage, the more I realized something uncomfortable and beautiful at the same time:
God has never had a habit of sending His people only into easy environments.
He sends light into darkness.
He sends hope into despair.
He sends truth into confusion.
He sends salt where things are decaying.
That’s the whole point of salt and light.
Salt does not exist for itself. It preserves what is breaking down. Light is not necessary in places already flooded with brightness. Light matters because darkness exists.
And honestly, that tension still exists for believers today.
Following Jesus often means learning how to remain tender without becoming compromised. Present without becoming polluted.
Loving without losing conviction.
Engaged without surrendering identity.
That’s hard work.
Especially because darkness rarely introduces itself dramatically anymore. Most compromise arrives slowly. Quietly. Respectably. It blends in. It normalizes itself. It asks us to lower conviction one small decision at a time.
Which is why Deuteronomy matters more than we think.
This passage reminds us that God cares deeply about what shapes us spiritually. Not because He is controlling, but because He understands that what we repeatedly entertain eventually begins to form us.
But here’s the part that encouraged me most:
If you find yourself surrounded by compromise, confusion, or spiritual darkness, do not automatically assume God abandoned you there. Sometimes He intentionally places His people in difficult environments so His presence becomes visible through them.
Not every hard place is punishment.
Not every difficult environment means you missed God.
Not every spiritually challenging season is a sign to run. Sometimes you are there because someone has to carry light into the room.
And no — that does not mean recklessly immersing ourselves in harmful situations under the excuse of “being a witness.” Wisdom still matters. Boundaries still matter. Holiness still matters.
But believers were never called to hide from the world in fear. We were called to remain faithful inside it.
Jesus said:
“You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.”
— Matthew 5:13–14
Not the salt of the church lobby.
Not the light of places already illuminated.
The world.
And maybe that changes how we see the places that feel spiritually heavy around us.
Maybe the tension you feel is not evidence that God has left.
Maybe it is evidence that God has positioned you intentionally.
You are not there simply as a test. You may be there as a testament.
And honestly? That changes everything.
x Chari