A season in the wilderness.

I’m not outdoorsy, by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t like insects, spiders, or anything that won’t fly away when I swat at it. I don’t like worms, snakes, and other creepy, crawly, slimy things. I actively avoid the heat of day and anything that causes me to sweat. To my husband’s chagrin, my idea of camping definitely includes four solid walls, a roof, electricity, and running water. In his eyes, glamping doesn’t count.

You’re not hardcore unless you live hardcore.

Though I’m bent more toward a spa retreat than a pup tent, I sometimes fantasize about a weekend of solitude in a secluded cabin somewhere in the mountains. With four kids, I’m happy to have a moment of solitude in the bathroom. I digress.

I would spend the weekend snuggled up with a hot cup of coffee, which I would drink hot and uninterrupted, without having to reheat it half a dozen times. I would read and write, and contemplate a midday hike in the woods—until I remembered that, even in the age of technology, things like spiders and bears and mountain lions still exist…

Did I mention I’m not outdoorsy?

As hard as it would be to say no to some time alone in the middle of nowhere… that is precisely where I am in my real life at the present moment.  Right smack dab in the middle of nowhere.  Want to send me mail?  Just ship it to Nowheresville, USA.  Thanks.  God has led me into my own wilderness season. Ain’t nobody else out here except me.

Me… and Jesus.

It’s dark, it’s lonely, and I can barely see my own hand waving in front of my face. There’s so much uncertainty, and it’s lonely here. I have many questions for God.

Where are You? Where am I?

What am I doing here?

Why are You so quiet?

How long until this situation is resolved?

What do I do while I’m waiting?

So many questions, so few answers.  And it seems that the longer I walk this narrow road, the less I am sure of.

So, here I am:

Asking the hard questions.

Searching for His face… and His heart.

Waiting for direction.

Expecting to see His goodness.

And this is where I will be, until further notice.