the wilderness.

last night, I was on the way to the temple with a dear friend. while we drove, our conversation landed on what our "wildernesses" mean-- those moments in between miracles where we wander, seemingly, aimlessly.

& holy Hannah, did I feel that through my whole body because it. is. so true. 



we have our Red Seas, but our wildernesses are crucial.


              they are just as meaningful.
                       
                                  just as miraculous.


I've always kind of hated the Israelites. like, what the heck? you had manna fall from the heavens and then you start worshipping a cow made out of metal???? they have never made sense to me.


but let's say, for a moment, we were just a part of a huge, forced migration so we could celebrate and worship in the way we wanted to.

we saw an ordinary man part an actual sea, went across that sea, and now what? we are on the other side.


we camp.

we sleep.

we eat.

we walk.


and slowly... our days in the wilderness start to spark a hunger for a more purposeful life -- like the one we had when we croseed the Red Sea.

                                                                 

                                                                    why can't we have that God all of the time?


                                    why can't we feel that faith and feel that trust in God?


        why can't we be that person who we were then?




so we make a golden calf and dance for a while and it feels good-ish... and then it gets blurry again.



here's my argument case for our deserts:


our wilderness seasons are that testing point of what we saw God do before. the mundane brings into greater focus the miraculous in our lives. it gives us a chance to put the pedal to the metal and use what we have felt & seen before!





it doesn't make these seasons any less frustrating to know this, at least for me.



but I can look back at the times where I have felty completely aligned, taken care of, etc. & I can trust that if I was guided in those moments, I'm guided right here and now.





also... if we don't ever wander but expect to be found, how can we ever feel that kind of love?


      how could that ever work without the wilderness?



we need our wildernesses. Nephi wouldn't have been who he was when he sailed to the Promised Land if he didn't have the desert.


Sariah was fine crossing out of Jerusalem, but we see a lot of ourselves in her when, and not before, she's in the desert and complains.



she went through a lot, but when a lot wasn't happening, that's when it got hard. 


       amen, sister.








just because I have a craving for Jerusalem doesn't mean I'm supposed to be there. I am here & because Father has done it before, He will do it again.


He. 

Will. 

Lead. 

Us. 




even knowing this, I still have a deep longing for what I expect from Heavenly Father. what I think should happen.


expectations like:


what my testimony is supposed to look like

   or how the Spirit is supposed to feel ALL OF THE TIME

       or that I'm entitled to some sort of extra special miracle because I haven't had one in a while.



yikes.


however, that doesn't change where I'm at and His plan for where. I'm. going. 





surrender. adaptation. love. that's the lesson here, in this moment.

our deserts are so, so worth it. 








to all of my wilderness Friends --


                where you are is perfect.
               
                           we've got this.

                                  see you in the Promised Land.



                                                       xx, g.