Streams In the Desert

Nearly every mother I know who has watched her teenage son writhe painfully, even violently, to shed his boyhood skin and step out onto the legs of the man God was forming has offered me these words of encouragement:

It will get better.

This past week, I was finally able to begin to taste truth in those words.  The beloved Swede and I traveled out west to pick up our son from camp and then spend a week exploring new places and revisiting favorite ones.  During the camp's closing program, we were asked to stand and recite the Pledge of Allegiance.  Behind the flag, outside the window, against the breathtaking New Mexico sky was this:

While the camera didn't capture the entirety of its brilliance, displayed in front of me was a triple rainbow as if God needed to repeat His promise to me three times to make sure I heard it:

When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.  Genesis 9: 14, 15

After leaving camp, we saw fingerprints of our heavenly Father everywhere--in the sky, on the ground, in the life of our son.  We drove to Great Sand Dunes National Park, and waded through a stream in the desert--a warm, improbable, life-giving stream.

 

And father and son walked, and talked, and threw frisbees.  And there was peace and joy and gratitude.

We hiked together and saw deserts, canyons, and alpine meadows in full spring bloom and I was reminded of my Father's promises once again:

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with singing...For waters break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water...and the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.  Isaiah 35

But even as I lifted tear-stained eyes to heaven in gratitude and praise, I detected the foul stench of the enemy's breath as he leaned in close to whisper, "Don't kid yourself.  This won't last.  It's a mountaintop experience, at best.  In a few days, things will go back to the way they were.  Did God really say He was able to transform lives?  Has He really said, 'Behold, I am making all things new?'."

And I know these are lies, tempting me to doubt, tempting to me to fear.  They are not the words of my loving Father.  This is not the voice of my Good Shepherd.  He has said I will hear His voice and I will know him, and His words speak peace.  And so I fight back against the lies with the weapons he has given me.  I praise Him because He is present in the praises of His people.  And I give thanks.


Linking with the Gratitude Community and continuing to number the gifts:

358. A Father’s Day text message from camp.

359. Seeing God’s fingerprints.

360. Camp counselors and staff who invest in the lives of teens and who, when thanked, say, “I didn’t do a thing.

361. Humility

362. Gratitude

363. Laughter and play

364. Games of Frisbee.

365. Streams in the desert

366. Heavens that tell of the glory of God; skies that proclaim the work of His hands.

367. Flowers in bloom scattered everywhere, seemingly at random, but all known and tended by the loving hand of my Father.

368. More blooming lupine! A western variety, but I get to type it again!

369. Vastness. Knowing that much of the beauty of the west is its sheer size. Knowing that vast, eternal, incomparable beauty awaits us in the new heavens and new earth.

370. Cecropia moths.  God makes some pretty cool stuff.

371. Being able to hike to above 11,000 feet of elevation and not need medical attention.

372. Seeing a bear! In the woods! From a train!

373. Seeing bighorn sheep. Twice!

374. Having a husband willing and able to do this:

375.  Inhaling my last lungful of lilac on July 1 because lilac were still blooming in July in Colorado.

376. Serendipitously running into a high school friend in the airport--the same friend who just so happened to be serving as a missionary in the Philippines when we traveled to bring home our son.

377. Serendipitously running into the beloved Swede’s best friend from high school, a member of our wedding party we hadn’t seen in over 20 years.

378. Not believing in serendipity.