Gentle Reader,
Do not remember the former things
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.– Isaiah 43:18-19 (NRSV)
I’m what Jack Dawson would call “an indoor girl.” I enjoy nature, but I like to be able to come back to a shower and a real bed at the end of a jaunt through the woods. You won’t catch me doing the backpacking thing. Sleeping in a hammock tired to the trees? Might as well label me Bear Sushi. Peeing outside? God didn’t shape me in such a way that that’s convenient. So sure, let’s go for hike. Let’s have a picnic. But I’m leaving at the end of the trail or when the meal is over.
That’s what comes to mind for me when I think about God making a way in the wilderness. A lovely, meandering walk through the woods. Birds chirping. The sound of a river in my ears. Squirrels and deer and marmots. Wildflowers bursting with color. Pushing past some low-hanging branches to emerge in a clearing that sports a five-star hotel, one that has all the amenities but the architecture doesn’t distract from the tranquil beauty all around.
And maybe that’s part of it. I think that Heaven will be a bit like that.
The Jewish people were going to have to walk through the wilderness on their way back from Babylon. It’s a journey that takes at least four months when you’ve got elderly people and children walking it with you. Like a family road trip on steroids. There were trade routes to follow. It wasn’t a completely unknown or uninhabited space. But it was dangerous. The returning exiles could be attacked by thieves. The priest Ezra writes about this in the book that bears his name –
I proclaimed a fast there beside the Ahava Canal, a fast to humble ourselves before our God and pray for wise guidance for our journey – all our people and possessions. I was embarrassed to ask the king for a cavalry bodyguard to protect us from bandits on the road. We had just told the king, “Our God lovingly looks after all those who seek him, but turns away in disgust from those who leave him.”
So we fasted and prayed about these concerns. And he listened.
– Ezra 8:21-23 (MSG)
I appreciate a priest who can admit, “Yeah…I probably should have done that differently.” Thankfully, God is gracious.
The wilderness didn’t change. The landscape didn’t smooth out. The possibility of bandits didn’t vanish. Ezra probably should have asked the king for an escort; he wouldn’t have been wrong or sinful to do so.
So what’s the way in the wilderness?
It’s God.
The landscape doesn’t have to change in order for God to make a way, though it will one day. God promises to make all things new, and God will do so. But right here, right now, there’s still impassable mountains and nasty bugs and late winter snow (boooooo) and thieves. Is God unloving because that all remains the same? No. God enters into the jagged wilderness with us. God takes our hands and guides us. We face none of the obstacles or pains or dangers alone. As for why God waits to make all things new…well, it’s because God wants everyone to come to know God. Not everyone will, some will reject God, but God is patient and kind in ways that I am just beginning to barely understand.
Jesus said that he is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). We usually think of that “way” in terms of being the way in and through which to be reconciled to God. To have our sins forgiven. This is true. Jesus is also the way through the wilderness of life. In him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). Jesus is both the road map through the wilderness and the royal escort. So while there may not be a facialist waiting for me at the end of each day’s hike, there is Jesus who’s been with me every step. With you, too.
GRACE AND PEACE ALONG THE WAY,
MARIE
Image Courtesy of Flavio
Can you tell that I forgot I was going to be sharing music in these posts? Anyway, here’s one –