CAMPING IN THE DESERT

There is a rich silence to the desert that seems to me like the music of God. These ragged peaks rise out of nothingness to break the horizon, row after row. Closer, these rocks, with levels of subtle color-red, yellow, orange, beige, black, wine, and beige in turn, layers and shapes in a cacophony of loneliness, with the craggy personality of windblown holes and formations, each unique, delicate and lacy. Every moment, with sunlight's difference, it all transforms again, changing color and texture. These rocks do indeed cry out.

Looking carefully, there are other muted songs here: tiniest white flowers growing out of sand; volcano black basalt scattered like manna; camel bones bleached and fading; the Bedouin camel driver kneels in prayer as we lay claim to pallets on the sloping sand.

And then there are the stars,, whose silent praise is a ravishing gift that steals sleep, the shining of heavenly lights, brilliant, even at the moon bowl's rise, that lifts our eyes and calls out “Glory!”

When our voices still from our own small stories, then we will hear the songs of the desert. These are songs of greatness, survival, beauty, and a love that creates and recreates out of nothing, out of chaos, out of what keeps us separated from its power. This is the music of God, uncluttered, revealed, the deep and wide silence that rolls over our hearts, minds and bodies when we willingly come out to listen.

I know now that somewhere inside I have longed for the rich, full, and beautiful stillness which sings of the One who longs also for me.

Posted by Jan Fuller