Desert Flowers

In alluding to the loneliness that one experiences in the desert, one might ask, “Loneliness? Whom do you miss? Whom do you need? Why do you need them? Is not God everywhere? It is here that He may possibly be found!”
I think a better term for the experience of the solitary life is alone-ness, not loneliness. The solitary life, whether spent alone or among people, is a life of learning to be content in all circumstances. The barren scape of the desert does not necessarily attract. It more likely repels. It is not visually appealing, nor are there other distractions to take up one’s time such as are found in the peopled world. Many people run from the desert, but the pilgrim learns to embrace it. The pilgrim purveys the landscape, searching and searching: a whirlwind miles away, a lone coyote, a delicate spot of color. He seeks something else, turning his eyes from the colorless void to the prayer book in his hands. He lowers his gaze to the small yellow bloom emerging on the spiny nest of the barrel cactus.  He appreciates the fractaled, unpredictable shape of a branchy cholla. It is not pretty here, it is not ordered, nor is it comfortable. But perhaps it can become so.

To be alive, to be breathing, to be able to make choices no matter where you are placed: what a concept! Moreso, what gifts has God bestowed upon this place? What particular gift has He given you in this place? Can we take time to find out?

The desert produces exquisite flowers, but few people ever see them. Blessed are you if you do see them.