In the Wilderness

       You may think it strange that I've always loved the desert. Perhaps it started with watching Westerns on TV when I was a child, but the first time I ever actually laid eyes on one, entered one, it was almost a religious experience. In its dryness it seemed to burst with life-- I just had to search for it. I loved the stark beauty, the curves and angles of its rocks, the soft hues of tan, ochre, and green. But every now and then there was a surprise of color in a bright bloom springing from a prickly cactus or nestled against a rocky outcropping. There was animal life, too: a spiky lizard, a sinister snake, the contrasting softness of a marmot or ground squirrel. Or maybe it was simply the light. 

      Pastor Kent reminded me last Sunday that we've all been in a sort of wilderness this year. (https://www.facebook.com/125126754258540/videos/3805595656131956) Like John on Patmos, we've ALL been surrounded by the "leprosy" of Coronavirus, put into a "penal colony" of quarantines and isolation, living in uncertainty about the future. But Patmos was right where God wanted John, in a place of few distractions, so that he could receive the great Revelation of the terrible and wonderful things to come. I have a feeling God has us right where He wants us today, too, hunkered down where the best, most positive thing we can do is focus on Him, seek His will every moment of every day, and look for the light in the darkness. But how?

     Think about it: how much more time have you spent this year at home, interacting with family, instead of rushing to all your "normal" activities? You may just have stumbled onto your "creative gene" in trying to find activities to fill the extra time at home: cooking, learning to play a musical instrument, writing about your experiences, photographing nature around your neighborhood, reading good books, building things, art? Perhaps you've reconnected in a deeper way with old friends or family by phone or internet, or explored your ancestry.

      There's one thing I've noticed about desert life: you often have to look hard for the beauty, sort of like looking hard to find meaning in 2020. One of the largest desert plants is the unusual "Joshua Tree," which can grow up to 50 feet tall and live for 100 years or more. Its roots grow extremely deep, up to 36 feet, and very broad, and it reproduces by sending out runners from those deep roots. The "tree" reminded Mormon settlers of the Joshua of the Bible, who held his arms upright for a great length of time to help lead the children of Israel into the land of Canaan (See Joshua 8:18-26). Even though the tree itself may be somewhat unattractive, with its spiky, gangly branches, in Spring it bears huge clusters of greenish-white blossoms, which give off a delicious, peach-like aroma. Think about the result of Joshua's patience: the beautiful land of Israel, the "land flowing with milk and honey."

      Contrast the Joshua tree with another desert-dweller, the tumbleweed. I've actually just learned that tumbleweeds are not a particular species, but several different desert plants. What makes them become tumbleweeds is that they dry up and "let go" or their shallow roots so that they can tumble and roll haphazardly across the sand, carelessly distributing their seeds. They are, however, quite a menace, as they can pile up and block roads as well as creating prefect tinder for desert fires. What a contrast to the serene and stately Joshua tree, whose deep roots keep it anchored through the desert winds.

      Which one do I want to be in this wilderness we're all in today? I'll tell you I spent more than a few years of my life being a tumbleweed, and I'm not proud of it. When I think of the useless, sinful seeds I sowed during that time I'm horrified. But I praise God that I no longer need to fear being thrown into the fire and burned, because through Jesus my sins are forgiven and washed away. Today, I may be gnarled and not very attractive to look at, but perhaps there may come a season when I'll sprout beautiful, fragrant blooms, because I'm deeply rooted in the Source, the Water of Life. What about you?

(Joshua Tree National Monument photo: FreeImages.com)

       "He grew up before him like a young plant and like a root out of dry ground. He didn't have an impressive form or majesty that we should look at Him, no appearance that we should desire Him."  (Isaiah 53:2 CSB)

      ".... And if the root is holy, so are the branches." (Romans 11:16b, CSB)

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

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