Without side stops and diversions,
Five year plans where success leads to success
And cause and effect make so much sense
I worry not and lose no sleep.
This wilderness however.
Huge solid rocks scattered in my path,
Insisting I explore alternate routes.
Strange demons insisting on a beer
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| "Christ in the Wilderness" (Briton Riviere) |
To a corner office, with a view, with great benefits.
And a place at the table.
Where big things happen.
Lovely, untamed beasts:
I step off the path to watch their gracious
Focused muscle
And listen to the spring song of birds
Whose ancient hymns are new again
And give me pause
And a sense of how big this is and how vast
The history of us.
In this wilderness I am tested, I am famished.
In this wilderness I turn left and left and left for a while,
Circling round to old fears, old dreams,
Rehashing insecurities and indulging addictions.
It is nothing like a straight line.
And it is bewilderment itself, on an empty stomach.
Yet I sense ancestors, saints and friends out here,
Whose faith met bewilderment with grace,
Whose conscience pursued love in the darkness,
Who spoke the liberating Word even to the demons.
I pray for their hands, for their companionship
During these forty days
In the wilderness we both need and resist.
No straight lines here.
Only bewilderment and God.
(Matthew 4:1-11)
