Today my lovely group of ladies talked about deserts. (Not desserts - time to move away from the chocolate. Reading Sunday Scribblings this week was an exercise in self control!) Nope, today we were talking about dusty, dry, suck the life and joy out of your life deserts. We all agreed that they happen to teach us things, but even the knowledge of this doesn't take away the pain and discomfort that occur through these baren landscapes in our lives. The deserts of broken relationships, financial disasters, chronic illness, loss, grief, disappointment, betrayal - they look different from the outside, but the emotional responses and feelings during these experiences seem to be universal. We are not in control. We can not find our way out on our own. We hurt, we thirst, we panic. We see nothing but dry sand, cragy sharp peaks and waves of heat and dryness in all directions. We would never choose this route, but somehow, we have ended up here - in this parched and cracked landscape, with rocks we stumble on, little resources for us to use for our own survival and elements that work against finding traditional forms of comfort and peace.
What is the purpose of the desert? The desert is where we learn to rely not entirely on ourselves, but on others. For me, the desert is where I have to rely on my God and those who love me to provide. I have to learn (and often relearn) that I am not meant to do it all on my own. In the desert, there are no great cities to build, no deadlines and no expectations other than survival. The desert is not a place of achievement, it is a place of being, a place of reliance on something other than things, a place to learn to trust. Like children on a family vacation, I'm often asking, sometimes even whining, "Are we there yet? How much longer?" My patient Father often answers in his gentle voice, "Not yet, but soon. And it will be worth the wait."
The journey through the desert is not so much about reaching the end and crossing from the dry dusty plain into the lush and blooming savanah, but instead, it's often about who we are when we finally arrive there.
Question: How have you survived (and maybe even thrived?) in the desert times of your life?
2 comments:
I have been in some serious deserts in my life. People sometimes ask me how it is that I am "okay", whatever that means. I always tell them, because it seems so simple to me, that I was never truely alone. I always knew God was with me. And I always felt a purpose to it, and almost a feeling as if I had known coming in that it would be this way, but that I would end up okay. Is that just faith? Maybe. to me it is like breathing. Just something that is.
:)
The desert experience...
A matter of the heart. Would GOD heal my broken heart? Thanks to a wife that wears her heart on her sleeve... I was able to break through my emotions and surrender to the healer.
GOD, bless the woman whose tears move this mans' heart to a deeper pool on the leeward side of the desert.
The desert seemed so very wide, then. Now, that desert is a friend, a bounty of growth. Thanks for walking that desert with me.
True.
bg
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