It doesn’t sit with me, this idea that the wilderness is a desert. I mean, yes, it can most certainly be a desert, a desert of hopes, of dreams, of sins. Yet, I can’t help but feel in my soul that the rain is also a wilderness.
You see, I’m in the wilderness right now, I know it. The state of my soul has shown me that I am in the wilderness and that what I thought was a good season has not entirely passed, but the landscape shifted and I walked right into a place where I have felt alone, unloved, unnoticed, and beyond help.
If that isn’t wilderness I don’t know what is.
However, my dilemma with this wilderness is that it has been raining.
If this is a desert, clearly someone forgot to tell the weatherman that it that it isn’t supposed to rain here.
I’ve been struggling to do all the “right” things that have been preached at me across time. No routine of discipline seems to intrigue me and it is really hard to get going each day. Some level of progressive church nonsense has crept in and muddled the reality of grace, turning these desert sands into sinkholes and pulling me towards the “I’m not really that bad…it could be worse…I could be doing x, y, z…” and that the grace I have lets me go on with my life.
My mind is starting to pull the logic card and convince my heart that I am beyond all hope and no one, not even God would want to help me.
That is a lie.
THAT leaves no room for the one person who I think is causing the rain in this desert.
The Holy Spirit.
Okay, okay, YES, the Holy Spirit is part of the Trinity so technically he is God and blah blah, I KNOW. But just as much as they are united, they are individual beings moving in and around each other doing the same good work that has been on the table since before time.
I think the Holy Spirit must like the rain.
It makes things that were on the verge of death spring to life. And that would be me.
I have so much hope for the future because of this. I am still confused as to when this wilderness will end. So, for right now, I will tell you that there is something, and the something has some hope in it. I won’t forget it. I will hold onto it.
You should, too.
Walking with you always,