But as anyone who has lived in the Desert will tell you, She’s not to be trifled with. Her sands burn. Her winds bite. Her fruitless trees and cloudless skies mock hunger, thirst, and loneliness. And this pandemic Desert is no exception.
But I’m reminded of a visit I made to Joshua Tree National Park about this time in March a few years ago. It rained the night I got there, and I awoke to an Eden. Purple blossoms sprung from the sands on tender stems, greenery burst from seemingly dead brush, and cacti boasted geometric towers of colorful blooms. The Desert had exploded in Life!
I’m so tired of this Desert we find ourselves in. It’s so lonely and boring and monotonous and sad. But as storm clouds gather, my spirit smirks presciently.
All things bloom in the rains of a Desert Spring.
