I found myself reflecting on some of the different deserts I’ve journeyed through in my life. Some have been imposed upon me, others have been self-chosen. I’ve noticed I usually have a better attitude about the harsh wilderness conditions if I’ve chosen the desert. After all, it was my choice. But when S/someone else has chosen it for me, it’s easier for me to get discouraged and to be less hopeful of the journey having any redemptive elements. (I’m presently writing this review while resting in a place of relative oasis, so take that into account as you read my comments!) Both literally and spiritually, the desert seems designed to bring us to the end of ourselves.
Is there a biblical precedent for my choosing a wilderness experience? Even Jesus was "led into the wilderness by the Spirit." Any wilderness I might choose for myself would probably be "desert-lite." Maybe a 1/2 day or a little longer of fasting or some other voluntary, short-term sacrifice. The truly life-altering wilderness experiences of life I would probably never embrace, any more than a Bedouin might choose drought or Tim would choose thirst and a migraine in a car trunk at 125 degrees. The ascetics of long ago did, but we seem to see their approach as out of balance. The modern reaction is unbalanced on the other end of the spectrum - resisting any wilderness experience or angrily blaming God for failing to reward my efforts to serve him. It seems to me the question is how do I best prepare myself for the wilderness experiences that are inevitable? How do I store up the spiritual resources I will need in any desert where the Spirit decides to lead me?
The chapter describes how the perception of the desert and wilderness moves from visual monotony to subtle, continuous changes. It struck me that my life can be quite the opposite. It appears to be full of color and life but with a slower pace, it all seems bleached, shadow-cast and predictable – the same frenetic motions and unchanging horizons can be as deadly to the spirit as the inhospitable climes of the desert, particularly for a leader. We can appear so well prepared – we’ve so “been there, done that� that we can perish and our sheep pay the price. Like the chapter noted, the desert‘s ‘deceptive capacity to look both familiar and unfamiliar’ can disorient or reorient us.
Which effect the desert has ultimately depends on my decision to stop…wait…listen. God speaks in the small voices in hamsin. Can I submit to the scourging, trusting that the Living Water is nearby? Can I lay aside what I know as a leader and in order to know Who leads me? Can I really understand that while I am a shepherd, I am also a lamb?
I pray the wilderness drives me into my Shepherd’s embrace.