This morning I have been thinking about the desert. It's funny, you know.. I'm 46 years old and you'd think I'd have figured myself out by now. I would never have expected to feel a bond with a place so different from the tropical places I adore... but I did. I stood in front of this awe inspiring landscape and heard the whisper of something new inside of me. Reverence. Pure, unadulterated reverence.
I wonder who I am when I strip it all away. When there is no obligation to pay the bills or mow the lawn. To get food on the table and raise kids to be responsible, healthy human beings. Who I am in the quiet recesses of my own individual heart, and what it is I really want from this life. Will I get to the end of it, look back and be content with the choices I've made? Will the people I love, know in the depths of them, that I do? Are the things I am doing in my life lasting and meaningful, or will they simply fade in an old balance sheet as a black line instead of a red?
I don't think it's a mistake that the ancient biblical story of Moses had him wandering in the desert. He didn't land on a beach somewhere sipping Mai Tais when he needed a little mental and spiritual clarity. Out there, in the still, quiet of a September morning, I could really hear that unnameable whisper. I'm so all over that. And I am definitely listening.