here is your freedom: a desert story

Behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her.

- Hosea 2:14

I have a rebellious nature.

You probably wouldn’t know that right away, because I’ve learned the art of saving face.

But this is accurate. (I'm working on it with my counselor.) 

I’m a fighter.

It’s one of my (many) flaws. I tend to fight for things far past their expiration date. At first glance, fighters can seem virtuous and loyal, but below the surface... stubbornness. Maybe fighter is a euphemism for control freak.

Control freaks don't do well in deserts. 

When God first brought dragged me to the desert, I came with a flurry of anger, disappointment, and passion. My number one aim was to get the h*ll out of this place, and fast. I wrestled and wrestled with God. I despised Him for leading me to this desolate land.

But along the way, He has revealed my freedom.

My fists are no longer clenched shut.

I have joined the desert dance.

Sure, it sounds conjured and poetic. But I can assure you that this is true. God has unfolded before my eyes in this time and space, using the image of a desert. 

When I grew up in the church, the desert was a place of darkness, temptation, discipline, and distress. And yes, it’s all those things. But my current experience starkly contrasts these metaphors I once claimed.

The desert is good.

The desert is a honeymoon.

Yes.

The desert is a ravishing place of intimacy, tenderness, light, depth, and “enough”.

WAIT. 

WHAT?

Didn’t Israel grumble and wander in the desert for 40 years? Wasn’t the aim to get out and dwell in the land flowing with milk and honey?

Yes. But there’s more. (As I am beginning to learn is the case with all of the scriptures I thought I knew well…)

When we focus on the Promise land, we miss the beauty of the desert. There is beauty in this journey of dependence.

What I’ve missed all these years is that the Exodus story reflects a common Jewish wedding ceremony. (This would be obvious to the early Jewish readers.) I’ll give you a simplified overview. *

In this tradition, the bride and groom arrange a marriage. The groom goes away to prepare a room (the chuppah) in his father’s house. Only the father knows when the room is ready. When he says the word, the groom will go to receive his bride. She must be ready to leave her family at any time. 

Then a sacred marriage covenant is established. After the bride and groom consummate the marriage and celebrate with their friends and family, the time of yada begins. Yada is a Hebrew word for intense, intimate knowing. The bride and groom will spend the next year of so, growing in relationship and yada. (Remember this marriage was arranged… the newlyweds need to spend some time finding out how the other likes their coffee in the morning or which color of curry to buy at the market.)

Could this covenant be the narrative of the Exodus? The backdrop of Leviticus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers?

YES and YES. These stories reveal the heart of God to choose his partner (Exodus), define the partnership (Leviticus), shape the partner (Numbers), and ask his partner to remember (Deuteronomy). *

(If you tend to skip over these books, please talk to me. I know some fascinating resources to motivate your study.)

God rescued His bride from the Empire of Egypt and established a marriage covenant with her at Mount Sinai. 

This is His great invitation of shalom. He beckons the beloved to join Him in putting the world back together. 

The desert was not a waste of time or a punishment. It was a time of yada. A space where Heaven touched the Earth in the form of a mobile tent and campground. (What a lovely image for us outdoor folk?)

God revealed and God set-apart. 

In these sun-scorched lands, God was provider. He was enough. He was on display, drawing His beloved near to His heart.

God’s people were oppressed by Empire and violence. They lived by the sword. It was their narrative. He wanted to show them a new way, the way of Shalom. So He married Israel. He established a covenant and consecrated His people. By their royal priesthood, the world would know the Living God.

+++

So I find myself no longer resisting this desert chapter of my story.

Instead, I move where He leads. I listen for His voice. I set up my tent here and there. I have just enough for today. He is my daily portion.

I have grown in intimacy and healing in this time of wandering. 

He is cleansing me too from the ways of Empire and the sword.

And as I look around, the desert becomes strangely beautiful.

I behold a peace and rest I have never known.

I think I’ll stay here awhile.

Could it be that I’m learning the secret of the shepherd? 

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

* Special thanks to BEMA Session 1: Torah for heavily influencing these revelations and this post.