Beauty in the Desert

There are stretches of life and land that are barren. Dry. Empty. Usually scorching hot or blistering cold.

Honestly, there doesn’t seem a point to it.

Why would an artist create seemingly “nothingness”? How could our Creator design this void?

These same questions we ask when our prayer dries up; when our work bears no fruit or productivity; when our days of parenting fade in bleary exhaustion; or even when nothing seems to be happening – there’s no moving forward or backward.

Still, this summer I traveled with my children through such expanses cross-country and discovered new points of perspective.

Mountains make me feel empowered and bold.

Rolling hills of grass and trees create quiet and contentment.

Limitless plains fill me with an appreciation of my smallness a little akin to panic, as I imagine a turnip cloud descending to suck me away.

Deserts make me doubtful and restless. And thirsty.

But even in the barren places, we uncovered wonders for our eyes and mind: columns of rock which – to the deceitful eye – looked to be boulders precariously balanced one on top of another, tilting over the winding road; desert rocks that suddenly glowed pink as the sun rose in the sky; heaven rays, that magnificently poured through the dark and lumpy clouds following a pounding thunderstorm.

Even in barrenness, beauty would break open the land.

Don’t feel guilty if you find yourself surrounded by beauty and blessings at the moment. Rest in it, as in a field of bobbing wildflowers. If a mountain looms ahead though and it frightens you, remember that you need only progress one step at a time, and focus on the vista that awaits your tired soul. Or if you’re in a desert, dry and grasping for inspiration, don’t be dismayed; persevere forth; beauty will peek out somewhere and surprise you.