Thunder in the Desert

          Recently, I was reading about a man that had been lost alone in the desert for nine days. His ordeal was surely one that I cannot imagine. The thirst from not having water would make one desperate enough to drink just about anything in order to stay alive. In his story, life saving rain came at just the right moments to keep him alive, when he was too weak to manage for himself. But there were days that came and went, when no rain fell. I'm sure he thought that the end was near many times; that his life's story in this world had come to an end, there in the California desert.
          One of the dictionary's definitions of desert is, 'any place lacking in something'. It sounds so unassuming, yet a place where any and all organisms struggle to survive is not a place to be. Life can be a series of events that range from your happiest day, to being lost in your own desert. Whether it's a desert of failure in school or work, or one of financial ruin. Perhaps the cruelty of human weakness through disease has come to you, or you can't control an addiction that seems to weigh over you like a massive boulder quarried from shame and self-loathing. Each time you see an end to your circumstances and pain, it turns out to be a mirage of lifeless vapor.
          Imagine yourself in the quiet, starlit night of a dry and lifeless place. The sky is intermittent with clouds, and in the distance, you see the faint flashes of lightning at the horizon. The delusion of hope grips your heart again. Days into your ordeal, you are ready to move toward the promise and find out, for certain, if the rain is real or not. After a seemingly eternity of thirst and heat, you long for the drops of wet redemption to touch your burned and aching skin, to wet the tip of your tongue if only to cool it for a while. This is the image of not only a desperate person in a dangerous physical place, but it also describes our lives in those times when we find ourselves in our darkest, driest moments. Those times when our spiritual tongues are dried and cracking from the lack of living water. When we've lost our direction or misplaced our purpose. We wander in our search for what makes us happy, or fulfilled, and yet rarely discover the answer on our own. The desert can be a place of great peril, and even death. So it is spiritually. If we stay in the desolation of a purposeless life, we will eventually die to the ways of good, mercy and hope. The desert will consume us.
          Unlike the man in my story, we do not have to wait and hope that the thunder will bring us spiritual rain. In John 1:19-23, God calls us to be His prelude. To announce that He is coming to a world of desolation and drought with the healing everlasting water. In John 4: 13-14 Jesus tells the woman that His water will forever quench our soul's thirst. In a few short chapters, John tells us that as we wander in our desert we should keep telling others about what God has done in our lives. Even when we are thirsty ourselves, dry and parched, we should point the way to His living water. In fact, I think that we are the most useful to God, when we've come through our own solitary wasteland. When we have seen and felt the sorrow of loosing a loved one, we are ready and trained to help those in need. To come through a life crisis such as the failure of a business, or betrayal of a friend, this is our desolation ordeal, and if we put our faith and resolve in the right place, it makes us a very credible voice to others in similar situations. I'm not saying that you have to die to understand what death means, or that unless you have been divorced, you can't know the feeling of abandonment or failure. Some people are gifted with the ability to empathize with those in need. But for most of us, the experience of life circumstances trains us to know when others truly need our grace and support.
          I believe that the church was called to help fulfill this function, to share with each other's passion and loss, in ways that would strengthen one another. Sadly, many times that seems to be the lacking ingredient as the modern church searches for purpose, instead of hearts. But do not give up on your search for genuine lives being lived with passion and those willing to share what they have experienced and learned from their conflicts. We do not come together to judge or count sins, we come together to find strength, and endurance. Find your place of belonging, where God's message is emanating from hearts full of grace and a natural caring for others, living day to day by His unchanging words and promises.
          If we are to have a chance for others to see our lives as a light of credible understanding, the fact that we have lived the same crisis or tragedy is a big first step. We are to be that thunder in the distance, the hope of good things to come. Seeing our survival, our continued resilience under fire, gives others an example of what may be close at hand for them, if they pursue with diligence the path towards the well of the living water. Our desert is not one of complete desolation, even though many times it does feel that way. There are many today on this journey with us, as well as those who came before and will come after, and we all look to each other for that promise. That hope of thunder in the desert.

John 1:19-23 / John 4: 13-14 (msg)