We are about halfway through Lent. We have sprung forward. The sun shines longer and the air feels warmer. Easter is on the horizon.
And we are at war in the Middle East. And we have said goodbye to beloved friends and family. And we are praying for those who are sick—physically or emotionally. And we are trying to care for ourselves, our families, and our friends.
And we are building a new community, because every time we gather together, we are different in one way or another.
The list of “and” goes on and on. There are great things and hard things. Because two things can be true at the same time.
Recently I found myself wondering: are we ever not in the wilderness? Are we ever fully at peace, rested, and settled? Do we ever feel like we have everything completely figured out, solved, and resolved?
When I think about the wilderness in my own life, I often notice that my mind goes straight to the unresolved. The friend I feel distant from and I’m not sure why. The project in my house that isn’t finished because I’m too busy—or too distracted—to complete it. The long list of ideas I have for the church that require me to choose carefully because of time, money, pace, and priorities.
So what if the wilderness is not an interruption to life, but simply part of it?
What if we could be there without distress? What if we could wander through it with curiosity and see what God might show us along the way?
And what if we could be brave enough to invite another person to meet us there—saying, “Here is where I am. I need you to know. I just need you to be here with me.”
Maybe then the wilderness would not feel so frightening.
Maybe it would become a place where something new is being formed in us.
Maybe the wilderness is not where faith is lost, but where wondering and wandering shape us into who we are becoming.
Peace,
Pastor Carrie
Senior Pastor | Second Baptist Church