Chase the far. Neglect the close.
When you begin reading Scripture carefully, something interesting starts to appear. God repeatedly uses the wilderness as a place of formation. And this year, I have started to see the wilderness represented more and more as I read.
Stay with me. I promise the brief biblical moment we will walk through together will carry meaning by the time we reach the end.
At first glance the wilderness can feel like punishment or delay, and it looks like wandering without direction. But the more you read, the more you begin to notice that the wilderness was never random. It was intentional.
To understand why, it helps to picture what that environment actually looked like when read about the wilderness in the bible. The wilderness of Sinai was rugged and unpredictable, and the rocky terrain stretched for miles. Vegetation was sparse. Dependence on food from the ground was not a chance you would want to take. The water was scarce and it was often hidden beneath dry ground. The sun pressed down relentlessly during the day, while the nights could quickly turn cold and still. Wind carried dust across the landscape, and travel required constant awareness of where food and water might come from next. Planning and responsibility were important to survive. Many scholars believe that it is impossible to travel across the wilderness due to the demand it brings. We can easily say that there were no markets. No irrigation systems. No stored supply chains. And in that kind of environment, survival itself required dependence.
God later explained the purpose of those years to Israel:
“And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart.” — Deuteronomy 8:2 (ESV)
The wilderness removed distraction. It forced dependence. It revealed the heart. Proverbs 4:23, tells us that, "Above all else, guard you heart, for everything you do flows from it."
But the wilderness was not only about dependence. It was also about responsibility. When God established the Tabernacle, the camp of Israel was arranged with intentional order. The Tabernacle sat at the center of the community, and the Levites were placed closest to it. They were entrusted with caring for the sacred things connected to God's presence.
Their proximity was not about privilege. It was about stewardship. The closer someone stood to the presence of God, the greater the responsibility became. Access carried accountability and what was near required care.
Over the years I have realized something about leadership that Scripture seems to reinforce again and again. Leadership rarely begins with things that are far away. It almost always begins with what is already close.
In fact, leadership often looks far less impressive than we imagine.
It looks like stewardship. It looks like responsibility for what God has already placed within your reach. Whether it is the people within your home or the relationships within your life. The influence is already sitting within your proximity.
If we truly examine, those moments are not random. They are part of the responsibility of proximity.
Jesus later confirms this same principle when He says:
“Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required.” — Luke 12:48 (ESV)
And when we come to this realization, we discover that closeness is a gift, but it is also a calling. The more we are entrusted with, the more responsibility follows. When you begin to see leadership through this lens, your perspective begins to shift.
Leadership is no longer about chasing influence somewhere else. Instead, it becomes about stewarding what is already near.
Scripture even reinforces this when discussing leadership in the church. Before someone is entrusted with caring for a larger community, the question first turns toward the home.
“For if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God's church?” — 1 Timothy 3:5 (ESV)
Why begin there? Because proximity reveals stewardship.
The people closest to you experience the most honest version of your leadership. They see how you respond when pressure rises. They see whether humility is practiced or simply spoken about. They see whether faith shapes your life when no one else is watching.
In many ways, the home becomes its own kind of wilderness.
It is where character forms quietly. It is where responsibility appears in ordinary moments that rarely receive recognition. And it is often where leadership is developed long before influence expands outward.
Over time I have come to see something else about the way God works.
God often forms leaders in proximity before He expands their reach.
What we do with what is near, frequently determines what God entrusts to us next.
The wilderness teaches us that closeness is never random. When God places something near you—His presence, influence, or the people entrusted to your care—He is inviting you into responsibility.
How we steward what is near often shapes what comes next. Sometimes we spend so much time looking outward for influence that we miss the responsibilities already sitting in front of us. And while leadership is often measured publicly, Scripture repeatedly measures it privately.
Proximity is a gift. And the response is responsibility.
Thought-Provoking Questions
1.What has God already placed within your proximity that you may be overlooking?
2. How well are you stewarding the people closest to you?
3. And if influence were expanded tomorrow, would your current stewardship support it?