Barefoot. I stand on the edge of a vast desert, atop a hill, surveying the land around me. It is quiet, but it is not peaceful. It’s the lonesome kind of silence, tainted with longing. Longing for comfort, for water, for a friend. Longing for the still, small whisper of guidance. But there is nothing. This nothingness yawns before me like an endless orange ocean, only this ocean has been drained of every last drop of life-giving water. Then – Something. Barely distinguishable, among the counterfeit ocean’s waves of heat that rise from its floor, there is Something. No, Someone. He beckons silently.
“Why did you leave me here?” my soul cries out as the tears course hot down my face. “I am so thirsty!” Even to my own ears, I sound plaintive, childish. Accusing. He beckons once again, this time with a word.
“Come.”
I sink to my knees. “No. I can’t. It’s far too hot out there, and dry. I’ll never make it. Why can’t you just come back for me?”
“Beloved, this is where I am. I have not moved, nor will I. The scenery may change, but always, I am here. Waiting for you. Come to me.”
Reluctant, I stand, but remain on the top of my hill, yet unwilling to descend to the low, barren wasteland. I wipe at the tears, but they have long disappeared, victims of the searing sun and blistering wind, leaving behind only faint trails of salt and aching.
“Look, Child. Don’t you see? The nothingness may overwhelm you if you stay there. But look again…that nothingness is all that lies between you and Me. No barriers, no locked gates. Nothing.”
I am silent, but He pierces my heart. “Yes, nothing but my enemies…the sun, the sand, and the endless miles. I don’t want to go.”
My toes are burnt.
Praise Him for His mighty works;
Praise Him for His marvelous grace…
For He has stretched forth His mighty hand
And has smitten the waters:
He has made me to pass through dry-shod. Hallelujah!
For there will be no more sea.
There will be no more separation!
He has removed every barrier; He has bridged the gulf…
He has led me through the way of the wilderness,
And His hand has been a shade from the burning heat.
Through the barren wasteland, He has filled my cup from living streams.
- Frances J. Roberts
The poor and needy seek water, but there is none,
Their tongues fail for thirst.
I, the LORD, will hear them;
I, the God of Israel will not forsake them.
I will open rivers in the desolate heights,
And fountains in the midst of the valleys;
I will make the wilderness a pool of water,
And the dry land springs of water.
- Isaiah 41:17-18
At the hillside you will be delivered
At the foot of the cross justified
And your spirit restored by the river that pours
From our blessed Savior’s side
- Beautiful Scandalous Night
