Reflections from the Desert

I’m on vacation this week. Let me just say that going on vacation is like having a baby – there is never a good time to do it, but if you want the rewards of it, you just have to do it. It won’t be convenient, but it will be worth it. Getting ready to go on vacation when your office is down to a bare minimum of staff is a real challenge, but luckily I have the best staff in the world, and they were very helpful and accommodating. The other way that taking a vacation is like having a baby, is that after the fact, you end up with a whole lot more work than you thought. 

Nevertheless, here I am on vacation, and I have the amazing honor and privilege of spending time with a dear friend and soulmate at her resort-like house in Phoenix. I met Karalee several years ago when she hosted some poor missionaries (us) for the first of several International Wholistic Missions Conferences. But then last year, they announced that the conference was moving – and I was horribly sad that I wouldn’t have my annual dose of Karalee-therapy. So, she said I should just come to visit. And here I am – with 2 of my children and a boyfriend in tow. (That was probably more than she was bargaining for, but I’m glad my kids get to meet this beautiful soul, and experience her ministrations! My daughter has already decided that Karalee is her hospitality-goals!) The Romaneski Manor has been our jumping-off point for several desert adventures, for which I am grateful. Being in the desert for a few days, and basking in the stunning glory of our Creator’s unique handiwork, has made me ponder some lessons from dry, hot places. I’m going to share a few of them here. If you’re in a dry, hot, desert-y place, maybe they’ll speak to you as they have me. 

Cling to the cleft of the Rock. You can grow there. Even though all around you is infertile, hostile stone – find the crevice and stay there. Your fragile growth will be sheltered and protected and vibrant in contrast.
Everything has layers. If these landforms weren’t cut away by water and erosion, and God’s great carving knife of nature, we would never know the beauty that lies beneath. We’re like that too. You are not just what’s on the surface. And every other person you see is not just what you see on their surface. Dig down. There is beauty in the deeper layers. Don’t miss it. 

Everything in the desert is spikey and prickly, even the pretty stuff. It’s harsh out here. Only the tough survive. And everything needs to be protected from the dangers around it. 
 Next time you experience someone who is prickly and spikey, ask the question (internally, or of them, if you know them well enough) – “What have you had to survive lately?” Maybe you can be the safe place where the prickles lay down and the soft parts are exposed.

Stuff that’s dead adds beauty. Die to self. It’s beautiful.
And it highlights the beauty all around you. 
Water in the desert is particularly glorious. It cools, it rejuvenates, it is a striking contrast, and it brings life. Be water. The Living Water flows through you. Water the deserts you find around you.
Every bit of color stands out in the desert. Bring color to the dry and barren places God puts you in. Just a little brilliant color makes a huge difference. What color is needed around you these days? The warmth of yellow? The joy of red? The calm of blue? The cheer of purple? The vibrance of pink? 
The desert can be a vast and harrowing place. Don’t get lost there. Find the ancient paths. Find the water and follow it to its source. Look up. Notice the beauty, even in those desolate places. 

Regardless of how dry, rocky, dusty, or desolate your desert, the Son of Righteousness will rise with healing in His wings. Lift up your head, your redemption will come. Worship the rising Son, just like the bird on the saguaro. She doesn’t notice the thorns or the dryness. Just sits with her face to the rising sun. Waiting. Still. Singing.

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