The Circuitous Route

"God did not bring the people to Israel on the direct route. Instead, He took them through the desert." ~ Mekhilta Midrash

Today I spent a quiet day breathing in the desert, on retreat at my church with a group of volunteers who do various types of social justice ministry. The day was entitled The Gift of the Desert and examined both desert as a place of testing and as a place of intimacy with God.

In the morning, I entered a contemplation from the book of Exodus, chapter 16, and explored what my manna was and if I received it well, tried to hoard it, or rejected it altogether. I found myself awakening in a tent in the desert, prior to anyone else and went in search of the daily manna for my family. I found that it was easy to take just enough for the day’s needs. Something told me to probe deeper so I did the exercise again, this time, going to the desert and envisioning that each piece of manna that I came upon was something of value in my life: family, relationships, home, work, university, finances, etc. Ah, there was the struggle I was expecting. Each one presented a different scenario, showing me where my attachments were or were not. That was a profound experience that revealed where I was grateful or stingy, where I had open hands or closed fists, and where I trusted God or not.

The afternoon we were given readings from Hosea and Deuteronomy. The Deuteronomy passage was brief but inspiring: “Have no fear or dread of them. The Lord your God, who has gone before you, is the one who will fight for you, just as He did in Egypt before your very eyes, and in the wilderness, where you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as one carries a child, all the way that you traveled until you reached this place” (Deut. 1:29-31). We were then asked to ponder the our graced history as to when we had experienced intimacy with God and in what ways my “desert” experiences had been life-giving to me.

The memory that came to me was around the death of my sister—in the moments when I raged at God and the moments when the presence of the Trinity was powerful. There is something about fighting with a loved one or for a loved one that is intimate and incomparable. That experience has been transforming—for me and for others as I have stepped into their pain and grief. I sometimes speak of the death as an odd gift that keeps on giving.

The other day while I was driving and mulling over items in my head, I had the realization that I don't need more. I just need enough. Today, that thought melted into the manna concept and the retreat has provided confirmation that if I can just trust God, I will have enough, in fact, all that I need. From there God will bless me and others who I encounter. I stand ready to be faithful, even when the route seems long and indirect.

Peace,

Suzanne