Desert

It’s been over a year since I published something I wrote.

Several months since I published anything on social media that was more than 240 characters.

Weeks since I was able to have a meal with a congregant.

I’m an impatient person. Always have been.

Pastors tell an anecdote that I really don’t like about prayer that goes like this: God doesn’t just hand you what you ask for, God gives you opportunities to develop it. So if you ask for patience, God gives you opportunities to develop patience by putting the most annoying person in your life, so that you have to learn patience.

I first heard this as a kid, and as a result have never ever prayed for patience until I know that the finish line is too far away to see and I’m feeling desperately hopeless that anything will ever be resolved.

I have very specifically not prayed for patience most of this year.

I think that’s something a lot of people may be afraid of, truthfully. That if we pray for patience, for example, or wisdom, or to be less angry, then God will put us in situations to help us develop those things, and that just doesn’t seem pleasant for a lot of people—me included.

But I’m not convinced God works that way. Nothing in the Bible tells us this is how things are, and the few times we see someone retreat, we don’t see them come back with a singular attribute or characteristic as “better” or “more developed” than they were before.

Moses goes into the Sinai Desert, running from Egyptian officials, and when he returns to Egypt (some 40 years later) he is closer to God, but there’s no indication that he is any less violent than he was before.

He goes up a mountain and when he returns he is closer to God, but there is no indication he is any more patient than he was before (in fact, he gets so mad at the Israelites that he breaks the commandments that God just gave him and has to go back up the mountain to get another copy).

Jesus goes into the desert, not to be a better person or get rid of some vice he has, but specifically to grow closer to God.

I’m convinced that when I pray for patience, God doesn’t give me opportunities to gain patience, but rather opportunities to grow closer to my Creator.

For a long time, words just didn’t come to me. I couldn’t get enough thoughts down to turn them into something meaningful.

For a long time I thought it was just my depression—and it was in a very big way—but as time wore on I realized that it was so much more than that.

It was more than writers’ block, or a lack of words, or just a lack of desire.

And somewhere along the way I began the process of starting a new church in Lawrence.

And I had an hourly 40-hour-a-week “part-time” job that was taking way more of my energy.

And classes for my Masters.

And somehow in the middle of all that, being a father and husband.

And whether I wanted to or not, I had to grow closer to God, simply because I had no choice but to or I would literally go insane.

So I began by reading a lot of Scripture.

I did a lot of writing in my journal—fragments of thoughts and pieces of ideas.

I wrote sermons—a lot of not-good ones, some okay ones.

I talked to some friends and some family and a lot with my wife.

And eventually, I started praying for patience. And for pain to heal. And for anger to subside.

And I don’t know if I’m any more patient or less angry than I was last year.

But I know that when I look at this desert I’ve been in—and that’s what I’m calling it, and no one can stop me—I’m glad that I’ve grown closer to God in some form or fashion.

I’m not thankful that I haven’t been able to put my thoughts down.

I’m not thankful that I haven’t been able to pastor like I want to.

I’m not thankful that the family schedule has been tough to manage, to say the least.

I am thankful, however, that I’ve been able to grow closer to my wife.

I am thankful that I’ve been able to become a bit more in-touch with my emotions and my mentality.

And I’m hopeful that somehow I’ve become a better follower of Jesus through all of this.