Into the Desert

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday and I must say that I had one of the best Ash Wednesdays ever. Aside from the non-stop phone calls at work in which all I really had to do was answer with, “9, noon and 6,” I have really loved these few days.

My faith has been a gift for a long time – and make no mistake, faith is indeed a gift, and I am always grateful for it. That said, I have come to truly and deeply fall in love with God and God’s people even more through my work.

There is so much crazy diversity in my world,  I do love it, even when it frustrates me to no end. And it pretty much frustrates me to no end all the time. I will write more about that another day however… today is a day for the desert.

Ash Wednesday is our invitation into the desert. I have always loved the desert, at least in my mind. In 1985 I went to Arizona for the first time (business trip) and Scottsdale was not the developed place that it is now. My co-worker and I went for a walk… in the middle of the day and the day was running at about 115 degrees farenheit. No, I am not kidding.

We were walking along the road and I was astounded by how many plants and how much life was present. I was also aware of how hot, drained and sick I felt. I did not want to say anything; I guess I did not want to look like a wimp.

In any case, a man came along in a shuttle bus that took people to a local shopping area, which was where we were headed. He was very kind and wanted to help us, he kept asking us to get in and we both protested. We were so hot and tired and eventually yielded to him. He brought us to the shopping area and urged us to get something to drink and to rest. We had iced tea and I can still taste it if I allow myself to drift back there. Iced tea has never tasted the same since, it can’t be recreated. As it turned out, we had both felt ill while walking, but neither one of us would admit it until after the ride and the iced tea.

That is the desert for you – it makes you weak and you have to rely on someone for help and you are ashamed to let go and do so. It strips your facade, your ego away and introduces you to the dehydrated, weak and head-achey person that we don’t want to admit to being. And Jesus is the kindly and persistent shuttle driver who wants to offer us a lift and some refreshment. And Jesus also knows that we have to be driven to the edge of desperation before we respond. He waits – it is not some cruel joke; it is clear that we are the ones who resist. He just waits. And waits. And waits.

Now I go into the desert differently. I still like the flowers and plants, the animals that scurry over rocky surfaces like phantoms that I can barely perceive. The baking-hot heat envelops me and at first it lulls me into a dream-like state. However, the dryness persists and the heat burns and my head begins to hurt and I need water and a lift.

It is then that I must traverse some sandy ground in which my every untruth is revealed. Ouch, my foot steps on the hot sand of my lies. Argghhhh, my other foot stumbles upon my anger. It is painful to encounter the sands of my indifference which rise up like a dune in the blazing sunlight.

Into the desert I go again, ashy head about to explode with an exquisite pain only known to those severely dehydrated. Each grain of sand mocks yet invites me. And tenderly I step out and into this hostile place that will help to redeem me.

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