Forty days. Desert. Wild animals. Tempted by Satan. (Mark 1:12-13). By day Five I would have been wondering where I had gone wrong. Did I misunderstand? Did I blunder into this desert by accident, or - worse - did I miss God or ignore Him? What have I done wrong that I am in this place?
Eventually I would have started having those thoughts: "God must be mad at me." Or "God must not love me."
I guess it IS a good idea to ask if I've missed God or done something wrong or if I've fallen into sin, because I know I'm capable of blundering into a desert on my own.
Maybe I'm even hoping it's the wrong place. Because if I'm not really supposed to be here, You'll realize the mistake and get me out somehow.
But: The Father had just finished declaring His love for the Son when Jesus was sent to the desert. (Mark 1:11-12)
Just because I don't like it, doesn't mean I missed the path. It's so easy to think, "I must have misunderstood" or "I must have done something wrong" or "Maybe God is punishing me" or "He's mad at me" or "Why have You forsaken me?"
But a hard place isn't necessarily the wrong place.
The right place for You meant leaving a place of glory and righteousness and coming to live where You were surrounded by the ravages that our rebellion had inflicted on ourselves and on this glorious world that You once created so lovingly.
It meant a baptism that You (personally) didn't need and a visit to the desert; and I wonder if You were thirsty, so thirsty for the Father's presence and the glory You had left?
It meant dealing with "wild animals" - their hate and lust to rip their prey - You - to shreds...wild because they had forgotten and refused to remember who You were...
It meant taking my sins on Yourself and dying for this wild animal so that I might have the chance to remember that life wasn't always a desert and doesn't have to be, so that I might taste the love and glory You thirsted for in Your dreams every night You were here.
We were Your desert, together with this land we pulled down with us into our folly - into our nightmare. We were Your wild animals.
You entered this our desert - my desert - on purpose. The Spirit sent You here. Hard? Uncomfortable? But where You were supposed to be, where You had to be - if there was to be any help or hope for me.
I don't know if or how my own deserts help and give hope to someone.
But how will I find out if I refuse them?
And how can I refuse the desert, when You did not?
And how can I say my desert means You don't love me
when Your love for me took You through the worst desert of all - so that I would never go through a desert alone?
There is a strange, special beauty in the desert.
You had angels minister to You
And I
Have You.
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