A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare
the way for the Lord;
make straight in the desert
a highway for our God.
Watching and Wondering:
“The voice cries out: … In the wilderness, make a way. In the desert, make a straight road.” Wherever you find yourself… find The Way home.
My family, my mom, dad, brother, sisters, nephews, nieces, husband, sons – all of us – love the wilderness.
The untouched beauty,
The quiet grandeur.
The expansiveness of artistry so incredible it boggles the mind and rocks the soul.
The wilderness is a place we respect with a healthy fear – a place we know demands to be embraced on its own terms, not ours.
The wilderness is a sacred place where God reaches into our souls and says, “Here I am. Listen to me.”
But spiritual wilderness is a different beast altogether. It’s a scary, lost place, without compass or GPS or Google Search. Spiritual wilderness holds in its grasp the vast expanse of loneliness and forlorn wandering. Spiritual wilderness is a barren hot desert – without oasis. And it is known to scorch Hope to its root.
But here I sit in Tahoe, a place I love, looking out at the beauty of the wilderness that surrounds me and I wonder: Can I look at spiritual wilderness the way I do nature’s? Can spiritual wilderness hold the same beauty?
And, are they really so different after all?
Untouched beauty awaits in each:
Physical wilderness: the beauty of God’s creation.
Spiritual: the beauty of who He sees me to be -His masterpiece – created in His image.
Quiet grandeur resounds in each:
Earth’s wilderness: the exploding silence of majesty too great to contain in words.
Heaven sent: the depths of my soul hidden deep in Him, where unfathomable stillness is found in His quiet whispers.
The expanse of creation stretches into each:
The wild of this world holds the spider’s lacy design, cradles the mountain peak’s towering strength, and reaches beyond to the twinkles of nuclear explosions that fill the darkness.
The wild of my soul plunges the depths of life where He created my inmost being, knitting me together in my mother’s womb, designing each day for me, and writing my story before even one of them came to be.
And it is here from this deeper place a voice cries out to me:
When you are in the wilderness, any wilderness: Make. it. the. Place. You. Love.
Make, in it, a way for me.
When you are in the desert, Sweetheart and want so desperately the sanctuary of your mountain refuge, then use your wilderness survival skills:
Walk at night when the path scorches,
Look at the stars, Punkin, ‘they’ve always given you hope and hope’s important.
Find a distant goal on the horizon,
Then make a straight path.
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
(What wilderness is strong enough to keep me from your love?)
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
How precious to me are your thoughts,God!
How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you …(Psalm 139)
Lord, regardless of wilderness or desert or wind-driven storm, I am still with you.
And a voice cries out, my voice cries out: Lord, in the wilderness and in the desert, on your terms… in your untouched, incomparable beauty, in the still and quiet grandeur of your voice, in the unfathomable expanse of who you are … I will make a place for you.
Watering Today: Prov. 24; ps 24, 124; Isaiah 40-42; 1 Peter 1- 3