Wandering the Desert – Miracles and Mirages

By: JANA GREENE

I’ve written most of my life about wandering in the desert, because frankly – I knew the desert like the back of my hand. Desert journeys include a lot of traipsing over the same sands you’ve already navigated, because the terrain is indistinguishable, and a lot of anxiety is generated by wondering when the bare, solitary wasteland finally opens up into the green meadow.

“Wandering the desert” is a catch-all term for feeling lost and bereft, without benefit of a plan, and without benefit of a Guide. On your own, finding your way without a map. Knowing somebody somewhere knows how to get out but is watching you bungle it. It’s the Christianese way to validate the spiritual experience of feeling lost and alone.

Every day, more wandering than wonderful. Wander and bump into something in my way. Wander and collapse from exhaustion. Wander and bump into myself (which can be a real awkward encounter, if you’re not ready for it.

Everyone acts like the desert is a life stage you have to go through to get to the other side. But many of us been wandering in a desert, keeping our eye on the sands, only to watch it disappear like a mirage the closer we get. Suffering here is buoyed by the hope that in the sweet by-and-by, we will be magically lifted when God returns to scoop up all of his chosen people, heretics and hooligans literally be damned. Except for I want my magic now, and I rather like the heretics and hooligans (and suspect Jesus does too, given his propensity for hanging out with scoundrels.)

What they won’t tell you is that it’s an inside job – that the Guide came preinstalled in you, and you cannot uninstall it. Trust me, I’ve tried, in times I was sure I knew a better way.

The “magic” of a God who cannot be anything BUT mystical and That’s where the magic happens. Paradise in the midst of a desert. You don’t have to go far to hear the Spirit of Source – go within. Not all who wander are lost, after all.

No bare, solitary, spiritual wasteland for you. Source loves you too much to keep you in that parched wasteland.

Blessed be, friends.