The Sauntering Pilgrim

“Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, do not fear! . . . For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert” (Isa. 35:4-7a).

If you’re anything like me, you’re looking for some good news. Not the two minutes of it you get at the end of the evening news broadcast but news that’s worthy of the whole time slot, news you can build a life on. You’re looking for news for the kind of times Ben E. King sang about in “Stand by Me”: “When the night has come / And the land is dark / And the moon is the only light we’ll see” – if we’re lucky enough to see even as much light as a sliver of moon provides.

For people afraid at the core of their being, Isaiah has the good news we’re looking for (Isa. 35:4-7a). And though it was written long, long ago for people far, far away, it’s news that can transform our lives today, if we will listen to it, and hear it, and allow it to shape our lives. “Tell fearful souls,” he writes: “‘Courage! Take heart! God is here, right here, on the way to put things right’” (Isa. 35:4 The Message). Israel in those days was a nation in ruins, its most creative and influential citizens exiled, its prospects at best bleak. Would their exile be the end of them? Were they on the brink of death as a people?

We may not fear death like Israel did, but could we be captive to the fear of something worse? One author described the situation as “the fear of waking up each day to face the same struggles, the same disappointments, the same pain. . . . the fear that nothing will ever change, that you are trapped in a cycle of suffering that you cannot escape. And in that fear, there is a desperation, a longing for something, anything, to break the monotony, to bring meaning to the endless repetition of days” (Albert Camus, The Fall).

“A longing for something . . . to bring meaning to the endless repetition of days.” Joseph Campbell had a different take on it. He wrote,” People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that out life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances with our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive” (The Power of Myth).

It’s a powerful fear, the fear of being trapped in an endless repetition of days without ever feeling the rapture of being alive. If you have such a fearful heart, remember what Isaiah said to a people who felt trapped in a life without hope. “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God” (Isa. 35: 4a). Here is God offering “more and better life than [you] ever dreamed of” (John 10:10 The Message). Here – here – “waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert” (Isa. 35:6b).

Waters breaking forth in the wilderness! Streams in the desert! There’s no promise that God will deliver us out of our wilderness, out of our troubles, out of what leads to “the fear of waking up each day to face the same struggles, the same disappointments, the same pain.” What Isaiah promises is that in the midst of our troubles and pain we will have peace, in the midst of our wandering we will find direction, immersed in our emptiness we will experience life’s fullness – waters in the wilderness, streams in the desert. Here’s how Indian poet and philosopher Inayat Kahn (1882-1927) saw that promise fulfilled.

“I asked for strength, and God gave me difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for wisdom, and God gave me problems to learn to solve.
I asked for prosperity, and God gave me a brain and brawn to work.
I asked for courage, and God gave me dangers to overcome.
I asked for love, and God gave me people to help.
I asked for favors, and God gave me opportunities.
I received nothing I wanted.
I received everything I needed.”

When I had to make a tough job change years ago, I had two offers that were equally full of pitfalls and possibilities. For a while I floundered in a wilderness of indecision, then I turned the matter over to God. I didn’t ask God to make the decision for me; instead, I made the best choice I knew to make and decided to give more and better attention to how God would lead me in the future. Instead of leading me to a job, God led me to a congregation – not what I wanted but what I needed – where my inner life was strengthened, my faith nurtured, and my path to ordained ministry opened.

When you feel stuck each day in the same struggles, the same disappointments, the same pain, facing the same soul-deep fear that nothing will ever change, that you are trapped in a life you cannot escape, remember the good news that God is already present in the midst of that life, working in you before you even know to ask, leading you in the right path, offering waters in your wilderness and streams that sustain you in your desert. And remember the words of eighteenth-century poet and hymnwriter William Cowper (cf. Psalm 77):

“God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

“Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.” ▪