Wilderness Trials

Sermon February 22, 2026 Matthew 4:1-11

Wilderness Trials

Reverend Fred Okello

Carren and I were ordained into ministry in 2005, one year after I graduated. They put their hands on us. They said prayers. In the company of friends and family, it was a vibrant celebration. It was like being on top of a mountain. However, there were no cars to drive us home after the service. We made our way back on foot for several miles. We asked each other along the way, "Has a difficult life just begun?" The long walk was as real as the celebration.

When Jesus hears the Father say, "This is my beloved Son," in Matthew 4:1–11, They take him into the wilderness. Testing comes after affirmation. Private struggle follows public blessing. That pattern is familiar to many of you. After your prayers were answered, you faced new difficulties. You have witnessed happiness cut short by a financial hardship, a loss, or a diagnosis. That’s a wilderness, and many people live there.

Provision is the first temptation Jesus encounters. He has been fasting for forty days and is now hungry. "Make these stones into bread," the adversary commands. It seems sensible. It makes sense. There is hunger. The fundamental question, however, is whether Jesus will act on His own initiative or rely on the Father's provision.

The anxiety about provision is well known to many of us. Some are coping with growing medical expenses. Some are dealing with unstable employment. To cover our daily expenses, some of us are attempting to stretch our income. Chronic illness, exhaustion, and the healing process following surgery all contribute to physical pain. Panic, moral compromise, or the idea that God has forgotten us are all temptations.

"Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God," Jesus replies. The Lord shows us that physical survival is not the only aspect of survival. God's faithfulness sustains our lives. Even though provision doesn't always happen right away, obedience keeps us rooted when things seem to be running low.

Protection is the subject of the second temptation. Jesus is instructed by the enemy to leap from the temple and demand that God save him. Scripture is even cited to support the behavior. Demanding tangible evidence of safety is tempting.

How frequently do we wrestle here? when illness creeps into the house. when a cancer diagnosis is made. when mishaps happen. when a loved one passes away suddenly. "If God loves me, why didn't He stop this?" we ask. The temptation to put God to the test and demand that He prove Himself to us is subtle.

"You shall not put the Lord your God to the test," Jesus responds. Having faith does not guarantee that we won't experience hardship. Faith entails having faith in God even when our expectations for protection are not met. Many of you are dealing with ongoing pain, grief, or treatments. It is mature faith to trust God in those times, not weakness.

Power and control are the subject of the third temptation. Without the cross, Jesus is offered every kingdom in the world. Instant glory without pain.

We have a more subdued understanding of this temptation. We desire control over the results. We want the suffering to end as soon as possible. We desire success without hardship, healing without procedure, and influence without sacrifice. Control is reassuring when life seems uncertain.

Jesus declines to take the short cut. "You shall worship the Lord your God, and you shall serve Him alone," he declares. Obedience is more important to him than instant relief. He acknowledges that suffering is a necessary part of the road to glory. For us, this means that even in hospital rooms, we worship. Even at gravesides, we still offer prayers. Even when we are worn out, we keep serving.

Years before our ordination, we faced our own wilderness. In 2001, within two weeks, we lost our son and my mother. We were young in marriage, young in parenting, young in understanding death. That same year we entered seminary. We studied theology by day and processed grief by night. It was overwhelming. There were moments of confusion and deep sorrow.

That was our dessert. The temptation was to withdraw, to question God’s goodness, to let grief define our future. Instead, we clung to Scripture—not as theory, but as lifeline. We did not have all the answers. We had God’s promises. And over time, the wilderness shaped resilience, compassion, and deeper trust.

In conclusion, Matthew 4:1–11 reminds us that wilderness seasons are not signs of God’s absence. They are places of testing, refining, and strengthening. Many of you are in wilderness experiences right now—facing chronic pain, battling illness, grieving loss, carrying financial stress, or enduring emotional fatigue.

Jesus does not merely show us how to resist temptation; He shows us that suffering does not cancel sonship. Hardship does not remove identity. The Father was still pleased with the Son in the desert.

After the temptations, angels ministered to Him. The trial ended. Strength came. The wilderness did not last forever.

Your struggle is real. Your pain is not minimized. But neither is God absent. If you hold to Him in the desert—trusting His word, refusing shortcuts, continuing in worship—you will discover that the wilderness does not destroy faith. It deepens it.

Provision is the first temptation Jesus encounters. He has been fasting for forty days and is now hungry. "Make these stones into bread," the adversary commands. It seems sensible. It makes sense. There is hunger. The fundamental question, however, is whether Jesus will act on His own initiative or rely on the Father's provision.

The anxiety about provision is well known to many of us. Some are coping with growing medical expenses. Some are dealing with unstable employment. To cover our daily expenses, some of us are attempting to stretch our income. Chronic illness, exhaustion, and the healing process following surgery all contribute to physical pain. Panic, moral compromise, or the idea that God has forgotten us are all temptations.

"Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God," Jesus replies. The Lord shows us that physical survival is not the only aspect of survival. God's faithfulness sustains our lives. Even though provision doesn't always happen right away, obedience keeps us rooted when things seem to be running low.

Protection is the subject of the second temptation. Jesus is instructed by the enemy to leap from the temple and demand that God save him. Scripture is even cited to support the behavior. Demanding tangible evidence of safety is tempting.

How frequently do we wrestle here? when illness creeps into the house. when a cancer diagnosis is made. when mishaps happen. when a loved one passes away suddenly. "If God loves me, why didn't He stop this?" we ask. The temptation to put God to the test and demand that He prove Himself to us is subtle.

"You shall not put the Lord your God to the test," Jesus responds. Having faith does not guarantee that we won't experience hardship. Faith entails having faith in God even when our expectations for protection are not met. Many of you are dealing with ongoing pain, grief, or treatments. It is mature faith to trust God in those times, not weakness.

Power and control are the subject of the third temptation. Without the cross, Jesus is offered every kingdom in the world. Instant glory without pain.

We have a more subdued understanding of this temptation. We desire control over the results. We want the suffering to end as soon as possible. We desire success without hardship, healing without procedure, and influence without sacrifice. Control is reassuring when life seems uncertain.

Jesus declines to take the short cut. "You shall worship the Lord your God, and you shall serve Him alone," he declares. Obedience is more important to him than instant relief. He acknowledges that suffering is a necessary part of the road to glory. For us, this means that even in hospital rooms, we worship. Even at gravesides, we still offer prayers. Even when we are worn out, we keep serving.

Years before our ordination, we faced our own wilderness. In 2001, within two weeks, we lost our son and my mother. We were young in marriage, young in parenting, young in understanding death. That same year we entered seminary. We studied theology by day and processed grief by night. It was overwhelming. There were moments of confusion and deep sorrow.

That was our dessert. The temptation was to withdraw, to question God’s goodness, to let grief define our future. Instead, we clung to Scripture—not as theory, but as lifeline. We did not have all the answers. We had God’s promises. And over time, the wilderness shaped resilience, compassion, and deeper trust.

In conclusion, Matthew 4:1–11 reminds us that wilderness seasons are not signs of God’s absence. They are places of testing, refining, and strengthening. Many of you are in wilderness experiences right now—facing chronic pain, battling illness, grieving loss, carrying financial stress, or enduring emotional fatigue.

Jesus does not merely show us how to resist temptation; He shows us that suffering does not cancel sonship. Hardship does not remove identity. The Father was still pleased with the Son in the desert.

After the temptations, angels ministered to Him. The trial ended. Strength came. The wilderness did not last forever.

Your struggle is real. Your pain is not minimized. But neither is God absent. If you hold to Him in the desert—trusting His word, refusing shortcuts, continuing in worship—you will discover that the wilderness does not destroy faith. It deepens it.