when the wilderness is not a desert

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.

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