Desert

The general dismantlement that occurs in the arid times of life can be unbearable. Every time I find myself here again, I feel as if I never left. The questioning begins and in the midst of that, a true spirit of prayer. This time I don't know what to ask for. What am I to ask of a God who already gave it all!? All I can say is, "Yes Lord, whatever, wherever, whenever, yes." So the one thing that stands out of this desert time in my life, though often in the midst of desperation, is longing. I long for Him in the loneliness of this sandy mountains, and scorching heat. I thirst for Him in this rainless land.

I see now that this is the very thing I asked of Him in past months and all through life: a greater longing for Him. What I find striking is that generally, when I look back at other such desert times I wonder if I ever actually learned anything at all, if I am in progress or indeed digressing. This focus on my personal growth and sanctification, though somewhat rightful, is awfully misplaced. I laughed at myself when I first realized this. I was falling for the pursuit of self-righteousness and self-glory and missing the pursuit of God. The only worthy pursuit.  The Galatians and I would be good friends.

I guess it is easy to fall into in part because we live in such a "show and tell" culture, where we are defined by what we can show for our day's work. And we want the highest seat in the table, the recognition when we give to the poor, the honor when we pray. Is that not, so backward?

A good friend of mine told me a few days ago, "a life of longing for God in the desert, is a worthy life, more worthy than being satisfied with all the happiness and loveliness of the world." It has changed the way I see the desert place. . . the way I pursue holiness. . . I want a pure heart not to be ascribed it by others but because Jesus said, "they will see God."