I’m still in my desert. I have a feeling I’m going to be here for…a while. I’ve pitched my tent of anger, of justification. I’ve decorated my tent with murals of reasons why I’m not willing to move, pictures of what I want my life to look like to hide the reality of my situation. I know in my mind that God has something waiting for me on the other side of the desert, but right now it’s hard to even see the end of the desert. And I like my tent because I’ve made it exactly how I want it without asking Anyone.
I’ve made life here and that scares me.
I’ve missed times where God has provided mana because I was too upset that I wasn’t eating meat. I’ve been too engrossed in my own world, that I forget to look for God’s faithfulness. I don’t want to do the work involved in moving out of my desert because I know it’s going to be hard work: trudging through the junk in my heart in order to leave this desert.
The worst part is that I did not even realize I was so comfortable in my desert.
I have such a long way to go until I reach the Promised Land God has prepared for me. Some days I’m too heart-tired to try to work through my junk. Other days I’m too angry. There’s always a reason and not enough action. I know the desert is a time of preparation, refining, and cultivating character. I know God is leading me towards a land of Living More Like Him. And in a way, I’m thankful for the desert because it means He’s trusting me more.
My sprinting has reminded me that God is walking with me, holding my hand, guiding me, and doing wonders in my life so I know that when I leave the desert it is because of Him, not me.