The desert of my discontent

Once again I find myself in the desert, the parched dry land gives no comfort for the weary.

In this place one can survive a long time, but no one is ever here by choice. A heart alone, devoid of life, surrounded by those who live their lives oblivious to darkness and pain.

This wasteland is of my own making, it’s a place that guards my heart. Providing isolation from those who would seek to impose their view of faith, life and love.

David has been here often, the Psalms are full of a darkness that plagued his existence. Oddly, I find comfort in his pain, it tells me I am not alone, others have shared this isolation.

How I wish I could find someone like David, who understands the pain and darkness. Instead of offering empty words, or fatuous bumper sticker theology, would just sit and suffer with me, shed a tear for my pain and simply offer nothing but sympathy.

This, more than anything else to me, is the mark of someone who understands why God whispers in the quiet hours and chooses to simply suffer with us.

Israel, Israel, your cries for justice did not go unanswered, like so many today, you missed the God of suffering in your midst.

There is a presence in the silence here, a still small voice. It calls to me, leading me on. Ahead I see the shore, and on the horizon a storm approaches, and I know I must endure, for my own good.

How did I get here?  Does it really matter?

Those storm clouds may entail bad weather, but the rain and wind are needed to wash away the stains, so when they have passed, I can walk again into the glory of a new morning.

I find nauseating the words of so many who do nothing other than live their faith through empty statements, forced piety, and smiling faces. I would like to see them suffer, for no other reason that the same Bible they so quickly quote victory from, is just as full of darkness and defeat. Unless you understand suffering, sacrifice, and pain, then you will never truly understand what victory meant to those who have gone before you.

Just as insipid are those who selectively avoid the whole truth to push their theology, who will never be able to see beyond the lifeboat of their tightly held beliefs. They spend more time patching holes in their boat, than learning to swim in the storm of truth, they can never be free until they understand that truth lives outside our safety nets.

I’m surrounded by those who claim the title of Christ, but seem to have no measure of him anywhere other than their empty words. Justin Martyr said the same thing in his first apology written in the first century, funny how some things never change.

But I digress (not without good reason, mind you)

This place is temporary while I sort through what has become of my life, I have left the safety of the Catholic Church because I can no longer support their claims made in the last two centuries, they chose to make those beliefs dogma leaving no room for dissension.  I have not yet fully entered into the arms of the Orthodox church, doctrinally I find them them to the most solid, but aligning my western worldview, with their eastern one is no easy feat. And I truly feel like an infidel, who has invaded a strange and holy place.

So for now I live in desert of my discontent, I find solace in those who have been here before, they filled the bible with their pain as well as triumph. It will all end, and the sun will shine again, but for now I need to carry on, and keep my eye focused on the prize.

This road has taken it’s toll, it’s meandered in out and of this place many times, but I still push on because I know that he’s calling me onward. At one time I thought the road stopped in Rome. I no longer know where it will stop, I’ve stopped worry about the where, and have just gotten busy with the moving part, one foot in front of the other.

I’ve been here before, but this time is different, this time I’m simply pausing to re-collect who I am, before I’m led on towards a new direction.