There’s a small rock, with a coating of tan colored dust that grows cracked the longer it sits in my room by my bed. Sometimes I stare at it while it lays in my open palm. Sometimes I clutch it tightly when anxieties chant the loudest and seem impossible to calm.
I hold onto this rock like my heart and mind hold onto the memory of when I found it.
In January of 2017, I took a walk in the Judean Wilderness. Our tour group was told we had thirty minutes or so. Stay in site of the bus but go wherever you wish. We all branched into different directions. I headed alone towards the hill in front of me. Quite a distance from the bus. As the stillness of the place quickly set in, I couldn’t help but speak what was on my mind.
Perhaps for the first time, I spewed out into a still air everything I could think of- mainly everything I didn’t like and didn’t understand. I was eager to voice the condition of my heart to a God who already knew it. Some of the words felt like bitterness I was spitting out, other times like thirsty confessions, and still sometimes only confusion and fear. This was what I had to offer- brokenness, like the cracked ground I walked on. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. Thankfully, it’s what He wanted from me.
And like a gentle whisper, my heart was greeted with a persistent grace. God’s love, sinking into this heart like affirmation- it responded to every broken statement. I stopped in my tracks. Ran out of words. Gave up and listened to the voice that was stronger than mine.
That’s when I found a river in the wilderness. It flowed through the words of an ancient text that sat on the dusty hilltop. It came like a gentle presence I was aching for. My eyes landed on the familiar, “Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life…” (Psalm 23:6). I underlined it in ink. Surely I had been chased by an unrelenting love and grace. Love led me to the wilderness. I was loved there in the desert- not abandoned, not a slave to fear, not captive to my thoughts and my sin…I was loved into freedom, perhaps recognizing it better in a barren place. And no, I didn’t deserve it.
What if our driest places in life are actually the places love compels us to? Could it be that our greatest confusions and deepest wounds are the place for us to turn around, stop in our tracks, and dare to look grace in the face? In essence, could it be our opportunity to look upon the Wounded One, who walked these trails before we ever did? To hear Him say, “I would give you living water…” (John 4:10), if only we would come and know Him and take His gift. He’s here in the driest and loneliest of places.
It’s moments when it feels hardest that I stop. It’s moments when I’m trembling in my own inadequacies and failures, when fears bring me to secret tears- that’s when I look down at a piece of that place. Oh, surely it is only His goodness that brings me here, that brings me to now, if only to know Him more. Surely He is good and He is God. Surely He is Lord and not I. And surely He is here with me now, just as He was then.
Whether felt or not, I know that my God is not just a made-up-excuse to life’s struggles. No. He is real and He is the God who makes a way for us to walk through the wilderness.
Before I walked in the Judean Wilderness, I stood by the Jordan River. I dipped my hand in the water while struggling to make sense of the bewildering fact that I could be called His daughter, His loved one. I certainly didn’t feel it. But what we feel doesn’t determine who we are. Sometimes we believe and still cry, “help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).
So now, I dare you to stop when you’re in your own season of dryness. Dip your hand there in the river put before you like a gift, like Someone who doesn’t want you to wallow in your own wounds, or fear or even sin, because He loves you. Oh, following Him is certainly painful and hard, yes! It’s also, truly the best, most fulfilling, and joyful thing we could ever do.
Drink up His Word. In a world of lies and hate, His drink is the most reviving because it is true and holy and good. Jesus- the source of life itself. Lay aside your assumptions of Him; and just listen to His words, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink,” (John 7:37).
The bus signaled that it was time to leave. I headed off that small mountain, careful not to slip on my way down with the gravel-like stone. I could’ve stayed longer. And as I made the trail back to the bus, I picked up a rock laying in my path. A reminder of where I had been, or rather, Who had been with me. A reminder of Who will go with me. A reminder of Who I will follow all the days of my life, as His grace follows me.
And years go by. My heart grows full from drinking up the sweetest of water whenever I tread on barren land. I reach for that reminder of grace, right here in my hand.
I tell myself to look back and remember. Listen to His promises in that ancient text again. Rest in the presence of Emmanuel. Clutch the stone and whisper, no more fear. You are in the best of places, because the Best is here.
Just This. 