Dear Caldwell,
Gail here at the keyboard again this week.
Last Sunday, John ushered us into Lent with a sermon entitled, “Welcome to the Wilderness.” Behind him as he preached were vases filled with signs of the wilderness brought indoors (thanks to Jane McBride!). In front of him as he preached was the communion table, laden with bread and with cup, reminders of the wildness of God’s love for us.
Sometimes I need to see those signs of God’s grace in front of me when I feel the presence of the wilderness, the wildness of life’s many difficulties hot on my heels behind me.
May those dry branches, rocks, and vases filled with sand remind us all that our Loving Savior Jesus Christ came to earth as a baby born in a stable, and was later led by Spirit into the wilderness to face and withstand temptation – all for love’s sake, on our behalf. I hope they remind you that wherever you find yourself on your wilderness journey, the same God who created trees, rocks, sand, and water, that same God created you, loves you, and will never leave you alone. Ever.
I pray that the wilderness stories we will read and explore this Lent will remind you that the same Jesus whose cross we are making our way towards called himself The Living Water – and Jesus still offers life giving, soul quenching water. Drink deeply, friends, from the springs of living water that still bubble up through the Word of God and through prayer, through worship and through music, through the communion of the saints and through the breaking of the bread.
Sometimes I need to be able to see the table, to see the bread and the cup – and be reminded that our welcoming God still invites us to eat and drink, to feast and to rejoice at the bountiful love that flows over us, even when we, like Adam and Eve, try to run away and hide from God.
I must confess that I have had many wilderness experiences in my lifetime. Sometimes I have tried to run away from my life and my responsibilities, hoping that I can get lost out there somewhere and hide for a while – from God, from my family and friends, and even from myself. Sometimes I have been thrust out into the wilderness because of the selfish and mean-spirited choices of others. Sometimes I have felt pulled out there, into times of solitude, silence, prayer, journaling, and tears. But no matter how often I find myself wandering in a dry and weary land, no matter how often I have worried that I would run into monsters out there (or within myself), no matter how rough the terrain, I have seen signs of God’s presence and love all along the way.
I have received words of encouragement from folks who had no idea the power of their words.
I have been offered sips of cool and refreshing water from the wellspring that is the family of God.
I have been welcomed back into the oasis of God’s grace, hope, and mercy countless times.
Thanks be to God.
This coming Sunday, I will be preaching as we move deeper into this wilderness journey. Feel free to read ahead in the Wilderness devotional book we are working our way through. This week, the focus is on John 3 – the account of the late night holy conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus – and Psalm 121 – which names some of the times and places where God meets us and protects us.
It is my fervent prayer that you will know God’s presence in your wilderness this week in ways that are undeniably divine. I pray that the words of Psalm 121, verses 7 and 8, will be true for you and for me, for all of us: The Lord will keep you from all evil; the Lord will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.
May God meet you and greet you in ways that speak to your weary soul this day, this week, throughout the season of Lent, and beyond.
Grace and peace, Gail
(Public Service Announcement: When you are done reading this blog, please go wash your hands. Wash the wilderness and the wildness of this March day off your hands. Use lots of soap and warm water. Okay?)