The Wilderness: No Way But Forward

"Then the people of Israel set out from Mount Hor, taking the road to the Red Sea to go around the land of Edom. But the people grew impatient with the long journey, and they began to speak against God and Moses. 'Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die here in the wilderness?' they complained. 'There is nothing to eat here and nothing to drink. And we hate this horrible manna!'" -Numbers 21:4-5

"My company before is gone, and I am left alone with Thee."

-Charles Wesley, "Come O Thou Traveler Unknown" (#386 in the United Methodist Hymnal

I'm in the midst of a wilderness experience. Some people would use the term "desert experience", but the meaning is the same: a period of time where you experience spiritual dryness. I tend to experience God most powerfully in community, so my wilderness experiences tend to occur around periods of transition. As a borderline introvert who can be painfully shy (I can fake it to a certain extent) yet who is very relationally-oriented, that period of time when I have lost one support system and am in the LONG process of building a new support system can be excruciatingly painful. It usually takes me about a year to really trust someone, and that's with consistent contact: it will take more if contact is inconsistent. 

One of the characteristics of the wilderness is that it forces us to depend on God in a way we never have before...it's not that God really leaves us, but God doesn't always manifest Himself in the usual ways, and we are forced to depend on God, and God alone, to provide for our needs. 

In Egypt, the Israelites may have not have been free and they may have endured cruelty, but they had never known any other life, and chances are excellent that they still had plentiful food. In order to get to the promised land, they had to go through the wilderness...where food and water were scarce. God provided what they needed, but they grumbled because it wasn't what they were used to...they were used to having easy access to food and drink, and in the wilderness they had to depend on God for nourishment.

In my case, there was obviously no slavery or cruelty, but I went from having an abundance of Christian community, regular opportunities to be a worshipper and experience preaching, and a strong support system...to a new ministry setting in a new community where I am the one preaching and leading worship every week and where I have to build a new support system. Because I am a pastor in a rural area, because I've been so busy (what with my family being constantly sick all winter and the 11 funerals and the move and transition), and because the vast majority of my emotional strength has been spent on my congregation and family (meaning that I just don't have it in me to initiate new friendships, and am having a hard enough time keeping the ones I already have)...I've had a challenge building a new support system.

It's sort of like going from an all-you-can-eat buffet 24 hours a day to a diet of bread and water, and having to hunt and gather if you want more than what is provided. And the thought of taking my bow and arrow and finding new friends has been...exhausting and overwhelming for most of the past year. 

I am depending on God more than I ever have...and am certainly seeing God ALL OVER THE PLACE...in the people of my churches, in what God is doing here, in my children, in their teachers, in my colleagues...I know without a doubt that this is where I am supposed to be and that God is here with me. I SEE God, I KNOW that God is with me...but I rarely FEEL God's presence. So many days, I feel completely and totally alone, like I'm wandering in a dark room without a flashlight. In some ways, it's surreal...because how can things be SO VERY GOOD and I be SO VERY BLESSED...yet still break down in tears multiple times in a week? 

It's painful...and it's frustrating...and yes, there have been many murmurings on my part. If I have acted like a whiny, selfish, immature brat...those are the wilderness murmurings, and I'm sorry. The Israelites complained because they were sick of manna and had nothing to eat or drink...I complain because no one loves me, no one wants me, no one returns my phone calls or text messages, everyone's too busy with their own perfect lives to listen to my sad tale of woe, my life is harder than anyone else's (please hear the irony and self-deprecation in those sentences)...whine whine murmur murmur. 

I know I am loved by God and by others...I know I do have friends who are praying for me and who are there for me, especially if I tried a little harder to connect with them...it just used to be so much EASIER, and now it's much harder...I have to hunt and gather instead of simply heading to the buffet. However, it's forcing me to rely on God for intimacy, for companionship, for guidance...and that is helping me to become the pastor, the wife, the mother, the follower of Jesus that God is calling me to be. 

What my murmurings mean, and what I think the Israelites meant, too, is, "God, I miss Egypt, but I know I can't go back there...I know I'm where I need to be...I know you'll get me to the Promised Land eventually...but in the meantime, I'm pretty scared and feeling lonely and uncertain of what the future holds...and I need your courage, your strength, your wisdom, and your comfort." 

Here's hoping and praying that I find the Promised Land at the end of this wilderness experience...and that when the time comes, my experience in the wilderness will have prepared me to boldly and courageously enter whatever future God has for me. 

And maybe my murmurs will begin to quiet down...if not, please be patient. This wilderness thing is tough. 

Before the Butterfly Comes the Cocoon

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us..."
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

During a time of intense soul-searching this week, I had an epiphany. 

Eighteen months ago, I sat down with my then-District Superintendent and boldly told him, "send me to a church that is poised for transformation, but needs someone to lead them through it." It sounds cocky, but it's where I felt (and still feel) my calling and gifts lie...to bring hope and healing and new life to people and groups. 

When I met with the Pastor-Parish Relations Committee of my current appointment, I sensed that this was IT. As I got to know some of the leaders of both churches (particularly my larger church), I kept thinking, "this is it! This is the church I prayed for! This is the church I asked for!"

And it is. I have no doubt about that. None whatsoever. God has amazing things in store for this church. 

However, I made a mistake. That mistake was thinking that our ministry together was going to begin at the chrysalis...that point when the butterfly emerges, spreads its wings, and shows the world what it's made of. Another analogy is that I thought that our ministry together would begin at the entrance to the Promised Land; kicking butt in the name of God right and left as we harvested the milk and honey. 

If you know me well, you know that I am an incurable idealist who is also incredibly optimistic. "Tomorrow" from "Annie" is my favorite song. These traits can be very powerful gifts for a number of reasons, but they can also cause me to bite off WAY more than I can chew, not see reality until it pretty much punches me in the face, and become discouraged if these big dreams and high hopes don't materialize when they're "supposed to". 

All that being said, it makes sense that this weekend, I found myself sobbing on my husband's shoulder and telling him how I feel like an utter failure as a pastor/leader. After all, I've been here for almost a year, and a) worship attendance has remained the same, b) giving has remained the same, c) we are still behind on apportionments, and d) we have had no professions of faith. Externally, everything is the same. I feel like all I've done this year is preaching and funerals and pastoral care and getting to know people and transitioning my family and myself into this new life (and then there was the long fall/winter of sickness, including James and Susanna both having pneumonia while a hurricane raged outside). 

I had forgotten about the cocoon and the wilderness. The greatest transformation happens inside the cocoon, before the butterfly emerges. From the outside, it looks like nothing is happening. But amazing transformation IS happening...the world just can't see it yet. If the cocoon is forced open, the transformation is never completed.The Israelites had to have that long journey from Egypt to Israel, and then those 40 years in the dessert, in order to become the people that God was calling them to be.

At the right time, the transformation is complete, the cocoon breaks open, and the caterpillar emerges as a butterfly. 

At the right time (40 years; a Biblical number of completion), the Israelites ended their wilderness wanderings and entered the Promised Land, and did begin kicking butt right and left in the name of God as they entered the land of milk and honey. 

And at the right time...and it may very well be within this next year...although only God knows...we will emerge from our cocoon, from our own painful transformation...and the world will be able to witness what before only God and a few wise people could see. We'll see it, too...because I have learned for myself that in order for true transformation to occur, you have to first believe in yourself and be able to see you as God sees you. 

Transformation begins in the heart...and it begins internally...and only when that process is complete, do you begin to see fruit. I had forgotten about that. 

In the meantime...maybe God is calling me, and calling us, to remain in the cocoon a little longer, to be in the wilderness for a few more months, and to allow God to do some more internal renovation before the transformation is complete and before we enter the Promised Land.