A Touch in the Wilderness                                                                                                   

-with a book preview of Jesus and Women

             by Kristi McClelland

    

   

Here I was this week in a sinus-induced brain fog.  Again.  Not a full-blown infection.  Just a minor headache that has lasted for days.  I always describe my relationship with my sinuses as a chronic one - no longer acute after 5 surgeries, but a well known stalker none-the-less.  

Here I was with no ambition to do anything.  Eat breakfast, check.  Look over email, check.  Waste time on Facebook, check.   Read my next Year Through the Bible selection, check. Get a load of wash done, check.  Stay home because of CoVid, check.  Watch the news til I can't stand it, check. Call a friend, check.

Now what?  Clean? No energy for.  Give the dog a much-needed trim? No energy for. Edit this year's Christmas list? Can't believe I have the energy to even think of that!  No energy for anything.

Duh,  how about praying? Ok... So, God what do you want me to do with this day that I have time for anything I want - the kind of day I would have given my right arm for?  No more words.  Prayer done.  Check.  

And then...here comes an email from a friend with a blog she asked me to edit (which, by the way, this blog site won't let me go back and edit some published ones that I know have mistakes - so give me grace, please, if you scroll down to earlier posts.)

And, by the grace of God, I see His hand in my friend's life.  Cutting right through my blahs of brain fog, I feel an excitement, a validation of faith, a picture of how God really does answer prayer. 

 I read my friend's post about her past year starting with the death, way too early, of her precious sister-in-law who she was so close to,   And then the death of her father - another precious person of faith gone from her life.  Then the loss of a job she loved due to restructuring of the company. And THEN...her husband getting a job in another state, so that she has left her hometown and church where she was raised and has been surrounded by family and friends (including a sister who just moved into town, and another who is moving here soon.)  And to make matters worse, this is all happening during CoVid, so that here she is in a new home, alone every day while her husband worked virtually with no way to meet new friends.  At least it gave her time to get settled!

And she was able to be the role model that she has always been to me,  counting that blessing and others, yet at the same time being transparent that this was not an easy time. 

She was in what I call a wilderness.  Fighting off the pain of less-than-desirable consequences but rather than imploding, taking each long day with a step in faith.  And sure enough, after months of quiet, lonely days and crickets from job searches, she got a part-time job that is fulfilling - AND which gives her time to set up a website for a life-coaching and church-consulting business that she has done in the past.  On her beautiful website was a post that inspired me to look at my own wilderness after reading about how she has navigated hers.

AND THEN, I get a call from another friend who shared the book Jesus and Women with me.  I'm not even done with it, but there was an excerpt about walking through a wilderness.  My brain fog and lethargy had been losing the battle between being pulled into oblivion with no ability to sense the Presence I try to practice. And certainly not feeling the peace that Presence brings. 

 But  I soon realized this call to attention had to be an answer to my prayer, as I read how the author, Kristi McClelland, tells about how the Lord often speaks to His people in a special way in wilderness seasons.  He did to my friend, resulting in a totally inspired website. He did to Jesus who after being baptized learned how to navigate the temptation by the devil in the wilderness.  He did to Moses through a burning bush on his longely trudge up Mt. Sinai.  He spoke in a still small voice to Elijah,  who had wandered off, wanting to die.

And whether anyone reads this or not, I'm committing it to paper, because He is speaking to me today. 

 Kristi reminds us of what we are told in Hosea 2:   "Therefore, I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her... In that day you will call me husband; you will no longer call me master."  As to the woman who sought just to touch Jesus' cloak in Matthew 2, He heard my pitiful little prayer, crying out only from a small wilderness, and I heard in my spirit the tender voice saying, "Take heart, daughter." 

Kristi McClelland goes on to tell us, " Instead of asking how to get out of the wilderness season - we need to listen for what the Lord is teaching... For it is out of the wilderness that the Lord brings rescue, restoration, and renewal."  If He never allowed us time in the wilderness, we would never have the need for him to touch us in these ways.  Add that to the never-ending discusson on why God allows suffering. 

She continues with this wilderness wisdom: "We tend to stare at our lives and glance at God, when we need to be staring at God and glancing at our lives."  Perhaps that is what I was doing earlier - staring at my brain fog instead of staring up above it.  And all that was required of me was to knock at His door, and He rewarded me with a touch. 

 Maybe not the Torah like Moses, or the secret to speaking to temptation like Jesus, or a beautiful website, but today, a touch was enough.  

A Touch in the Wilderness

There we go again, losing our way,          

Thinking we were in control,

Then being overwhelmed

By things that get in our way.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Big obstacles or small.    

They still can knock us down.

And cover over any thankfulness 

As a grayness starts to surround.                                                                                                                        

And we feel lost.   

Like a sheep who has strayed.

We look around and see

The wilderness we've made.

                                      

But all we need is to stop                                                                                                                           

And to make a rational choice,

We simply must stop

And listen for His voice. 

It may not come right away,   

But we can be sure He's calling for us.

He's the shepherd, He knows our ways.

We can wait with calm for the rescue, and thus...

The waiting becomes not so hard,    

For breaking through the fear  

We can trust in the knowing

That our Savior is always near.