There’s something about the desert, entirely apart from the searing heat, that bakes its way into ones soul. Like clay, ones soul can harden, dry, in that open oven. The sere vistas, dry, cracked, hard-packed earth as far as the eye can see.
It does something to the heart.
Yet there’s a peacefulness to it, too–an austerity. A kind of somber splendor. And somehow it’s alive–gloriously alive! Against all hope, there is life! Life clings tenaciously to the ground. There is a verdancy one doesn’t expect, almost forgets to look for, amidst the haze of dust clouds.
The desert tests one, tests one’s resolve. Tests one’s ability to continue to believe, abide in faith, in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Jesus came to this wilderness–the desert, this earth–to lead out of dryness.
If your soul is parched, look up today: there is evidence of rain.
Where do you see Jesus moving in your dry places?