Desert

Strengthen the hands that are feeble,
make firm the knees that are weak,
say to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not!
-isaiah 35

Spending time today listening to Bishop Robert Barron's sermon about patience. His homily inspired me, touched me, and made me cry. 

I'm doing that a lot these days.

As the great Bishop Barron says, Christians are a desert people. We wander thru a parched land - a land where the endless rhythm of life and death is witnessed every year. Where the spring rains bring a glorious blooming to a dry and weary land. Where summer's beating sun brings death once again. Only to yield once more to the spring rains...and on the cycle continues.

Our own human rhythm beats like that, doesn't it. We draw close to God, we bloom. Then we move about our lives until ... taking back the burdens we prayed for God to hold for us ... we turn back to the desolate lands once again.

Great Bible heroes spent time in the desert. Abraham. Joseph imprisoned. Moses 40 years wandering with the Israelites. John the Baptist the voice crying out in the desert. Paul in exile in the Arabian desert. And most importantly - Jesus spending 40 days/nights being tempted deep in the desert.

Each of these men emerged from the desert blooming with life.

I speak with my own impatience - why am I frustrated with my time in this desert when men (and women) far greater than I have done this and so much more. What right do I have to be discontented?

A trip thru the desert - a spiritual wilderness of our own making - can bring us back to basics. Extraneous things are stripped away, where we are stripped of our sinfulness and, hopefully, cleansed.

Bleak and dry periods. Times when darkness is visible (as the great novelist, Willian Styron, said about his own deep depression). This describes where I am about as perfectly as can be.

Dark. Bleak. Parched. Depression so deep it threatens to consume me. It obscures everything in front of, behind, and around me. This is always a tough time of year for me - has been for many years. Like many at the holidays, I know I'm not alone.

This is a time to be patient; and I am not a patient person. I've often said that instant gratification is not fast enough for me. Yet this period of Advent is a time of waiting, patiently, for our Savior to come to the world. 

Maybe God has drawn me into my current desert to draw me closer to him; so I can learn to stop taking back my burdens, to allow him to be by my side - that indwelling I'm always going on about - for my own transformation. 

Dear Lord, I am trying to be patient.

I'm waiting for my own great rain to bring me to full bloom.

Today's Catholic Readings can be found here.