Forty Years in the Desert

All of my life I have heard the story of the Israelites, being set free from slavery under the Pharaoh in Egypt, wandering in the desert for 40 years.  I always had the image of a people walking in the desert, slowly making their way toward the promised land. I had in mind that the Israelites knew their destination. That they were going somewhere. And I always imagined their children and grandchildren asking the Hebrew equivalent of "are we there yet?"

At various times in my life, I have felt that I was walking my own path in the desert. Wondering when I would finally reach my destination. Wishing that it would be sooner rather than later. But feeling as if I knew my destination, in a remote sort of way, and hoping that the sweetness of the destination would make the long wait worthwhile.  Familiar?  I think most of us have been there, and felt that sense of journeying.  Looking at the map and trying to figure out the best course to our destination.

Just a few days ago, quietly doing morning prayer over coffee, I once again prayed the familiar text of Psalm 95. Only this time I suddenly had a different image of the Israelites in the desert.  Hidden within the words of the Psalm (hiding in plain sight) I found a deeper understanding.

Today, listen to the voice of the Lord:
Do not grow stubborn, as your fathers did in the wilderness
When at Meriba and Massah
they challenged me and provoked me, 
Although they had seen all of my works.
Forty years I endured that generation.
I said "They are a people whose hearts go astray
and they do not know my ways."
So I swore in my anger, "They shall not enter into my rest."

It hit me. What I had been missing the whole time. The Israelites were not wandering to their destination -- they were wandering around their destination.  The 40 years in the desert were completely within the control of the Israelites. The reason that they wandered for so long was because they could not see through their own blindness and sinfulness.  God showed them the way to go, but they kept their heads down and walked in the other direction.  It was only when they lifted their heads up and followed God that they were allowed to see the promised land. The road had always been before them, though they could not see it.

How very like life today.  I can't begin to tell you how many years I have wasted, wandering in my own desert, thinking that I know the way.  Refusing to ask for directions -- or refusing to follow directions, but thinking my way was the best way.  Walking around lost in circles, when the promised land was just over the next horizon, though I could not find the way. And the many things that have distracted me (and continue to distract me daily) from following the way that God tries to show me.

It reminds me of one of my favorite prayers, by the Blessed Thomas Merton:

Lord, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead. I cannot be certain where it will end. Sometimes I fool myself, pretending to follow your way, but knowing I am not. But I believe this: that the desire to please you does in fact please you. I hope I have this desire in everything that I do. And I know that if I do this, you will show me the right way, though I may not know it at the time. Therefore, I will trust in you always. When I may seem to be lost I will not be afraid, for I know you will never leave me to face my troubles alone. Thank you, dear God, for all you have given me, for all you have taken from me, and for all you have left me.