Psalm 55:6-7 “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest… I would lodge in the wilderness…”
I was made wild. I was made to live and love wildly in wild abandon to him. I am wild at heart. I was made for the wilderness…
The wilderness is as changeable as the seasons. It may be a thick, impenetrable forest, wildly overgrown with entangling snares and strangling restrictions. It may be a dark and treacherous valley, or a barren and unyielding desert. A desert may be scorching hot or fiercely cold and being lost in either has the potential to prove fatal. The wilderness, if faced alone, is a very dangerous place. In scorching heat with no drink or shade one will thirst unquenchably and be burnt up all together. In bitter cold the heart slowly turns to stone as it freezes over with apathy and becomes numb to even itself. How can we endure? What hope is there to be found in the wilderness?
Oh, how we fear the wilderness. How quick we are to run from any place of uncertainty or discomfort. We have grown all too fond of complacency. What we have so easily forgotten is that the wilderness is a place to be sought out. It is a place of encounter.
When I find myself wandering (never with intention of my own) into the wilderness, gently guided by my gracious Lord, the first thing I encounter is a harsh realisation of my own brokenness. I come face to face with the ugliness of my pride, shame, insecurities and independence. This, for me, is not a welcome encounter.
We are proud creatures and seem to spend our lives desperately trying to hide our imperfections and weaknesses. How perplexing and nonsensical that we are ashamed of our very nature and try to climb out of the skin into which we were born. We were born for dependency. There is no shame in that. We are imperfect, and that’s okay. We are weak, and that’s okay. But an all too familiar and compelling voice tells us that it’s not.
From the moment that I am faced with this humbling reality I must make a choice. There is one who would have me bound by my sin and my shame, who would have it captivate and consume me. I encounter the father of lies. His voice is deathly sweet and poisonous. How seductive and tempting are his accusations and twisted truths which he would have me declare over myself. What will I choose? Who will I choose? All along there has been the gentle voice of another, calling me by name. This is the most marvellous encounter of them all and the one that I was made for. I encounter truth, which hurts sometimes but is always goodness, grace, mercy, compassion and love. I am called to lift my eyes up, off my sin and darkness and onto his radiant perfection. I encounter my Father, I encounter my Beloved and I encounter the very Breath of God.
In that arid place, surrounded and accosted by accusations and lies, I know that I am never abandoned. When all I can seem to achieve is to find myself lost, he finds me, and I am found. Despite my unbelief, my fear and doubt, he has never left my side. His voice is good and true, and no lie can stand against it. I, lost sheep that I am, know the voice of my Shepherd, who leaves ninety-nine behind in pursuit of one. As he surrounds me with his love, his grace, his mercy, all fear is cast out. Perfect love casts out all fear. It is in the midst of this heavenly encounter, when my pretences and defences are down, that my Maker can begin to have his way. My vulnerability is my greatest weakness turned greatest strength as his redemptive work unfolds in me.
My Creator is the one who brings forth growth in the desert and gives life to the valley of dry bones. I am expectant. He gives me strength to walk and not grow weary through the trial. He brings new life in me that I could never have dreamed possible. Once a place of death, the wilderness becomes a place of birthing. Joy cannot be contained. In the dry desert, he is the fountain of life and the well that never runs dry. When my heart has frozen over, he is the sun that makes it thaw. When I am entangled in sin, he is the Gardener that prunes every branch. In the valley low, he is the Shepherd with rod and staff to guide and comfort. He is all in all. He is the Lord of the wilderness. He gives me all that I need to endure, to stand firm and keep walking. I do not sit, and I do not run, but I press steadily on. I trust that he will surely lead me through.
This is the encounter I long for. This is the intimacy and dependency for which I was made. This is what it means for me to be wild – wildly abandoned, wildly in love with Love himself. In reckless pursuit of him I would gladly lose myself in the wilderness for there I am found. My God is the Lord of the wilderness and I was made wild for him.
Psalm 55:6-7 “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest… I would lodge in the wilderness…”
You give me wings not that I might fly away from the wilderness, escape and avoid my circumstances.
If I had wings, where would I go?
Lord, you give me wings that I may fly to the wilderness. I was not made to flee from my fears but to fly to the place of total dependency. Once there, I walk.
Whatever my wilderness right now, you O Lord walk beside me, and go before and behind. I am surrounded by love and grace. I need you, I am utterly dependent. We will walk through the wilderness and then, as surely as the sun rises, we will fly again.