Desert Flowers

Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. 
His going forth is as certain as the dawn; 
And He will come to us like the rain,
Like the spring rain watering the earth. ~Hosea 6:3



Jesus answered him, "If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. ~ John 14:23

I grew up on The Wet Side of the Cascade Mountains, and even though I've lived on The Dry Side for going on two decades, I still forget sometimes how much my plants need water. I was reminded of this recently, when the day got away from me and I was too tired by the time I sat down that night to go outside and fill up the watering pot.

"Oh, I'll water in the morning," I thought. But then, morning came and once again the day flew by. That evening, I arrived at my front porch expecting the overflowing baskets of color I've become accustomed to. Instead, crunchy, liquid-starved leaves and shriveled flowers were the reward for my neglect.

I couldn't help but think about the times when I feel spiritually dry. Of course, it's the same situation. I've gotten too busy, forsaken my first love--Christ and fellowship with God-- and I start to shrivel. The irony is that when I find myself in a spiritual desert of my own making, my first reaction is to do more, become busier, fill my life with work and people and things. Self-medicate.

I read this today: "The thing we must understand is that God did not choose us to 'use' us...the Bible makes it clear that God created us because He longs to have fellowship with us. What does God desire? He wants you. All of you." (Joanna Weaver)

I've had a spiritual issue, one that fell into the area of dissatisfaction, for months now. While I was aware of it on some level, it wasn't occupying my mind. I wasn't feeling bad about it, praying about it, or particularly concerned about it. I wasn't really thinking of it as a problem.

Last week, while I was driving around thinking about a million other things, God pulled this issue out of my heart and showed me what I'd been living with. Bam! I was immediately convicted. There I was, clutching my steering wheel, huge tears of remorse and relief rolling off my chin and plopping into my lap. My heart was pierced. The life that I have is a gift from God, and I was acting like I'd just as soon throw it back into His lap. I needed to repent immediately, and I did. Then, there was that wonderful feeling of forgiveness and love. That's how God works most of the time--not in the fire or the whirlwind--but that still, small, gentle voice. When it's His conviction, His voice, repentance comes easy and forgiveness tastes sweet.

What I had been doing in the days leading up to that moment was spending time, and not just a little, reading the Bible, meditating on scripture, and praying, by myself and with others. Because of the time I was spending in fellowship with God and other believers, I was carrying around with me a deep awareness of His presence, in me and around me. I believe that's why I heard that gentle voice, leading me from the slavery of dissatisfaction to the joy of thankfulness, that day behind the wheel of my car.

Am I being too hard on myself..."pierced to the heart" because I was feeling a little dissatisfied? No. Beyond the negative stuff that a lack of contentment does to our hearts and spirits, it also affects the world around us in ripples that never end. Take a simple example:

Say "Mary" focuses her feelings of discontent on the old antique desk her grandmother left her. It's too small, not really suited to her purposes, scratched and battered and really, antiques are out of fashion--vintage reproductions are the thing. So, Mary decides to hop on the "vintage" bandwagon and buy herself a new desk. Whether she's buying at Walmart, Restoration Hardware, or ordering custom, that vintage hardwood (or even semi-hardwood) reproduction doesn't just appear. The wood has to come from somewhere. Very likely, it will come from a rain forest in a country like Peru, since Brazil's hardwoods have already been stripped beyond what their stretch of the Amazon can bear. But even in Peru, there isn't enough hardwood to meet the demand, so black market loggers will convince a tribe on a reserve to permit them to log the trees on and around their land. The loggers will inevitably over-harvest, and there goes one more watershed and one more tribe's source of fresh drinking water.

"Oh, c'mon," you say. "These things are complicated--the global politics, human greed--I can't be expected to lay awake at night worrying about stuff like this." And you're right, you don't have to toss and turn, tortured by the U.S.'s voracious absorption of the world's resources--that's what I'm saying.

Here's how it works: God's people walk in fellowship with Him. This produces, among other things, contentment of the kind that roots out desire for anything other than what God provides. This means less demand for precious world resources. Which means less trees cut down in the world's rain forests. Which means less watersheds destroyed. Which means healthier men, women and children in poor countries like Peru. Back home, Mary's contentment means less bitterness, fewer short tempers and kinder acts to her children, her husband...her neighbor.  For Mary and those around her, it means a life of peace and generosity..."on earth, as it is in heaven."

Am I oversimplifying global environmental politics and human relationships? Maybe. But I know this: for followers of Christ, it really is that simple. Can our own personal relationship and fellowship with the Creator God of the universe make that kind of difference in the world? Yes, it can. Because "with man, it's impossible. But with God, all things are possible."

God doesn't call us to save the world. He doesn't even call us to save ourselves. He just call us to abide in Him, and when we do, he's promised He will change us and through us, change the world.

What does God desire? Fellowship with us, and there is no substitute for fellowship with Him. We can't expect to hear His voice if we're not listening for it. This isn't a law or a rule. This truth isn't there to make you feel guilty when you don't do it. It just is what it is. Our Savior is humble and gentle. His yoke is easy. His burden is light. God doesn't force us to have a relationship with Him. But He loves it when we come to Him and when we do, we feel His pleasure. Like my parched plants, the living water flows over us and in us. We drink it in, it gives us life, and overflows to the lives around us.

I thought my flowers were dead that day. But they weren't. They just needed water--and don't we all?