Fearlessly Courageous
Desk of Dennis Piller
7 22 2026
Tempted to Leave Jesus Or I think I need a break.
Most Christians don’t wake up one morning determined to leave Jesus. They simply grow weary…dry…a little restless. They begin wondering if maybe they just need a break. The Bible has a sobering story about people who felt exactly the same way.
I saw this really short sentence the other day: “Are you tempted to leave Jesus?” It caught me off guard. Not because I thought, Yeah…I’m done. It made me think about the human side of me…the fleshly side. What would that even look like? What actions would even suggest that was a thought in my mind?
Nah…
Maybe not leave Him.
Maybe just put Him on the shelf for a while. You know…I’m just not feeling it.
Maybe I’m a little bored with Christianity…religion…church.
No, I’m not looking to leave Jesus, but there are moments when I catch myself thinking… I just need a break.
But, a break from what?
What has happened…or maybe what hasn’t happened…in my walk with Him?
Yeah…maybe that’s it. What hasn’t happened.
I thought to myself how fickle we are. We shop. We buy things hoping they’ll soothe this quiet restlessness inside us. We doze off in the recliner. We enjoy Sunday brunch. Even the glass of wine that once helped us unwind somehow isn’t as satisfying as it used to be. Then we quietly look at our walk with God. Dry. Stale. A little empty.
No…I’m really not tempted to leave Jesus.
But maybe, like the old Rolling Stones song says, “I can’t get no satisfaction.”
Maybe I don’t need a break from Jesus. Maybe this season just isn’t the one I imagined following Him would feel like. So where did the joy go? Scripture says, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” Where is it?
Walk away from what?
This hole in my heart that I just can’t seem to satisfy? This quiet emptiness that refuses to be filled?
I honestly didn’t feel like it, but almost begrudgingly I opened my Bible and started looking. I asked myself, What stories has God already given me that might explain what I’m feeling?
One story immediately came to mind. Numbers 11.
The Israelites had been miraculously fed every single day with manna from heaven. They weren’t starving. God had faithfully supplied exactly what they needed. But after a while…they got tired of it. The mixed multitude began complaining.
“We remember the fish…the melons…the leeks…the onions…the garlic we had in Egypt.”
They wanted something different. Not because God had failed them. Because they had grown dissatisfied with what He faithfully provided.
God answered their request. He sent quail. An enormous flock of quail. But He was righteously angry with them.
But while the meat was still between their teeth, judgment came. The place became known as Kibroth Hattaavah… The Graves of Craving.
I’ve always found that name haunting. Those graves weren’t dug because people were hungry. They were dug because people had forgotten what they had already been given.
Psalm 106 summarizes it with sobering words: “He gave them what they asked for, but sent a wasting disease among them.” That verse has always made me stop.
Sometimes getting exactly what we crave isn’t God’s blessing.
Sometimes it’s His judgment.
Deception: So what is this “walking away” I’m playing with in my mind, yet refuse to classify as rebellion…or cravings…or certainly grumbling? What if I’m simply calling it a dry season? What if I’ve baptized my own discontent with spiritual language so I don’t have to confront it?
But if I’m honest, isn’t this the subtle temptation of despising the ordinary means of God’s grace?
How many times must I read the Bible?…Go to church?
Take communion?. Pray the same prayers?..We would never dare say those words out loud. But haven’t most of us whispered them to ourselves? Can you see the parallel? Israel wasn’t starving. They were tired of manna. God hadn’t stopped providing…They had simply stopped appreciating.
The miracle didn’t change….Their hearts did. That’s what makes this story so unsettling.
Please don’t miss this, it is too frequent and too alarming!
This didn’t happen overnight. It never does. One sheep quietly eats his way away from the ninety-nine. Not because he planned to get lost, but because the grass just ahead LOOKED a little greener than the grass beneath his feet.
One neglected prayer. One unopened Bible. One missed opportunity to worship. One little compromise. One private disappointment. One quiet grumble. None of them seem dangerous by themselves. But together they become a path leading away from the Shepherd. The quail was never really about food. It was about wanting something different.
And isn’t that us?
We get tired of manna. Then we get tired of quail. Then we get tired of the Promised Land. Then we get tired of the very blessings we once begged God to give us.
Funny how memory works. We remember the melons. We forget the chains.
I once heard someone say that Satan’s favorite songs are the grumblings of God’s people.
I don’t know if that’s literally true, but I understand the picture. Every complaint becomes another verse. Every disappointment is another chorus. One dissatisfaction becomes another…then another…until complaining becomes the soundtrack of our lives.
And don’t grumbling’s always go public? Politics. Church. That neighbor. That coworker. That family member.
Our dissatisfaction always wants company. Please don’t hear guilt in any of this. Hear a warning. Paul certainly did.
Writing to the Corinthians, he points directly back to this story and says, “These things happened to them as examples and were written down as warnings for us…” (1 Corinthians 10:11).
Warnings. Not history lessons.
Warnings.
Think about it. They had been baptized into Moses through the Red Sea.
They followed the cloud. They ate supernatural food. They drank supernatural drink.
Yet God was not pleased with most of them, and their bodies were scattered throughout the wilderness.
Why? Because the greatest danger in the wilderness wasn’t an enemy outside the camp.
It was the quiet rebellion growing inside their own hearts long before it ever appeared in their actions.
Oh, how our minds turn and churn through distorted, sinful thought processes. We can convince ourselves of almost anything if we rehearse it long enough. But have we honestly considered the cost of life without Jesus?
Perhaps I should ask it another way.
When was the last time you picked up your cross and followed Him while remembering where He found you…where He plucked you from?
Romans 8:18 doesn’t deny suffering. Paul knew hardship, persecution, imprisonment, danger and loss. Yet he writes, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”
Not worth comparing. How do you compare a lifetime of pain with eternity in the presence of Christ?
You can’t.
So should we…could we…after sober and honest deliberation, reject the grace of the Father? Would we really trade the Bread of Life for another handful of quail or a bigger 401k? Would we exchange eternal joy for another passing craving?
Are we really so different?
Have we become so spiritually dry that we’ve quietly placed Jesus on a shelf while convincing ourselves we’re simply taking a break?
Because that’s how drift works. It whispers. It disguises itself. It hides behind reasonable explanations. It slowly numbs our hearts until we no longer recognize what is happening.
Hebrews pleads with us, “Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts.”
Today.
Not after another season. Not after another disappointment.
Today.
Because what I cannot see… I cannot repent of.
And what I will not repent of… I will eventually become. OUCH!
Lord, search me.
Show me the whisper before it becomes a decision.
Show me the craving before it becomes rebellion.
Show me the drift while it is still small enough to turn around.
In Jesus’ name.
Amen.
“What part of this hit home for you this morning? What are you carrying today that needs prayer? If you’d like, send me a prayer request here. Let’s invite the Holy Spirit in together. (where two are gathered.) You are not walking alone. Just hit reply…
I read every response.”
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Open the eyes of my Heart Lod.
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