Reflections on a Desert Time Pt.1

Back in March of this year, I happened upon an unexpected day and a half that was all mine. I had traveled to NC for a dear friend's wedding a little early in hopes to connect with some other friends and last minute those plans fell through. So I found myself in a semi-familiar city (I knew it enough to know exactly where I wanted to grab dinner from) with a hotel room all to myself and no plans for the rest of the day and the next.

Deep inside I'd been craving some time like this to experiment with a new-to-me spiritual practice of a Desert Day (a term given to me by my grad school prof). A Desert Day is simply a day alone with God. Hopefully outside of one's familiar zip-code, in silence and solitude. One might find themselves in a day like this out of desperation to hear God, because of a desire to lay a handful of things before Him, or even just in a simple need for a longer time with Jesus than their daily routine allows. One may choose to follow a rough outline for the day, but one must always choose above that to follow the movement of the Spirit in the day.

That first Desert Day of mine was unexpected, needed, and soul shaping for me. In complete transparency, nothing incredible happened during my time. It was simple, quiet, and still. I felt the presence of Jesus with me. What this first Desert Day experience really did for me, though, was attune my heart and soul to the voice of the Spirit inside me to a new degree. Days later, when a particular thought crossed my mind, I was able to quickly discern it to be the voice of the Spirit - not just my own wandering thoughts and desires. I was able to make decisions quickly around that thought and not question them.

I'm writing this now as I come away from a Desert Day time again. I was able to take Thursday evening - Saturday afternoon by myself, tucked away at my grandparents home while they're out of town. I'm writing this maybe more for me than for you, but I feel there may be things in this reflection that are for others as well.

I'm coming away with these words, a prayer by Ted Loder that I sense I will carry with me well into the new year:

I'm coming away from these days with a better understanding of the root of some anger I've been feeling that keeps bubbling out. Are we at all surprised that most of it comes from grief, unmet desires, and fears I carry deep within?

I'm coming away with some tweaks to make in my morning routine so I'm better able to spend time with my friend Jesus each day. I think I'll write about this more at another time, but I want to confess how easily I drift away from spending time with Jesus in the mornings. I have great aspirations, let me tell you! But the reality is this practice for me is difficult and I get quickly discouraged, wondering if I'm doing it "right" or not.

Here's what the Spirit reminded me: The goal of all of it is Jesus himself. To be with him, to hear him, to become like him, to know him, to experience him.

The goal is not to do it right (or maybe even well sometimes?); the goal is simply to be with my friend Jesus. How quickly I forget this.

I'm coming away with a couple answers of what is not for me - at least for right now. I've had handfuls of things tugging at my mind - house projects, business projects, questions about how and on what platform I should write, how to use my masters degree, etc. etc. There are a few aspects (tiny things, really) in each of those categories that I've been able to discern, with the help of the Spirit, are not right for me at this time. Next month they may be right or next year they may be right, but for now they are not. I want to write more about this down the road as well, but let me just say for now how liberating and freeing it is to say, "That is not for me right now."

I feel a little quieter inside though. My soul isn't quite as windy. My mind isn't quite as jumpy.

I'm reminding myself that not all desert time experiences will be the same. Maybe the Spirit will speak clearly to me in a few days about some of the questions I'm carrying, but He also might not. That's okay.

I'll end with these words from Ted Loder again. As I walk out of a desert time, I remember Christ goes with me, before me, behind me, and all around me.

“O God, gather me

to be with you

as you are with me.”

You Seem a Little Lost