unexpected itinerary

The following post is written in context of the second year mark (September 1st) since Joshua went heaven-side and our upcoming wedding anniversary (September 22nd).

Death Valley was never a part of our original itinerary. Our 3-week family RV trip took us out to Colorado, down to Arizona, and back up to Oregon. We visited many grand and interesting places, including the tiny ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada.

“There’s a sign for Death Valley National Park,” someone commented with interest, as we drove out of Rhyolite. “Wow, we’re that close?”

How could we pass up an opportunity to visit the hottest place on earth?

With a tad of nervous curiosity and a large dose of thrill, Joshua turned our RV toward the entrance to the park. The mid-afternoon sunshine seemed to sparkle on this October 20th afternoon (which doubled as William’s 7th birthday), and ten eager faces peered out at the mysteriously exciting terrain—the dry, cracked earth, the rising sand dunes, the mountainous rocks lining the horizon.

But what was this? Water on the highway? Puddles in the ditches? Water vapor rising from some seriously sizzling asphalt?

“It rained,” came a park ranger’s amused answer when we asked about the water.

No kidding.

Death Valley receives about 2 inches of rain a year. As we romped and explored a small area of the park, we enjoyed a “cooler” desert heat, and we could smell the traces of water in the breeze (hey, we’re Oregonians). The rain of that day moistened the brittle soil and refreshed the desert plants, providing sustenance to the resident animals and beauty to a barren land.

Driving away in the rays of a majestic sunset over the mountains, glorified further in the reflection of a damp valley below, we were mesmerized, gazing out the RV windows until the road took us onward and away.

“Come again!” the park ranger had said.

Well, maybe…

Whenever it rains, that is.

September 22nd, 2001 was the start of a grand, new adventure. With an “open” itinerary that we hoped would take us 50-60 years into the future, Joshua and I set out to follow wherever the Lord would lead. He took us to some amazing places: a fantastic marriage, ministry, building a house, treasured family and friends, precious children, business and work, homeschooling and country living, fun vacations, creative opportunities…

Sometimes our life adventure saw us in lush, abundant terrain, overwhelming us with delight. Sometimes it rumbled down a bumpy road, leaving us stranded on the roadside, limping to the next rendezvous—but with stories to tell and lessons learned.

This was indeed a glorious adventure.

With Jesus leading and Joshua by my side, how could it be anything but glorious?

And yet, in the midst of all this adventuring we realized one day that the Lord was leading us into terrain we’d never seen before. Journeying further, the signposts became more alarming.

“There’s a sign for death valley,” the fearful voice of my heart spoke. “Wow, we’re that close?”

And I did not want to visit.

On September 1st, 2022, I stood at the brink of this valley and gazed at the dry, empty landscape. There was no rain. There were no desert flowers. There appeared to be no life whatsoever.

This was not on the bucket list of our itinerary.

I reached for Joshua’s hand, as always…

but it was not there.

In that instant, on the verge of despair, my dangling hand was caught up. Before turning, I knew Who it was. He beckoned me forward, His own eyes wet with tears and His own face furrowed in sorrow.

“I am here,” was all He said, bearing my entire weight upon His arms as I stumbled numbly forward into the wasteland.

By and by, Jesus brought me to a dry, shallow pit in the ground, cracked and devoid of any moisture whatsoever. As I stared blankly at the waterless hole and then up at the quivering, hot desert stretching endlessly to meet dark rocky crags on the horizon, my heart almost gave way to fainting.

“Look at Me,” came His voice, gentle and firm.

“Please help me,” was all I could reply.

Then, through the Truth of His Word, He began to speak of Himself, His love, His presence, His comfort. I listened, as though being sung a lullaby, held by the warmth of Himself. Gradually, I forgot about the heat. I ignored the landscape. All I could see and hear was Him.

And how else could I respond to this One—this wonderful God Who was now at my side to sustain my very soul—but in true and heartfelt worship? Alone and more vulnerable than I ever was, I falteringly returned to this sweet Saviour words of adoration, of love, of desire.

Imagine my surprise when, in the midst of these moments, He offered me a cup of water.

Where has this come from? I wondered.

Looking down, I saw within the once-empty earthen hole, a small pool of water. From this, He offered me the cup,

and smiled.

It was the most satisfying drink I had ever tasted.

Reluctantly, I followed Him away from the now-filled pool of water. The desert resumed its apparent quest to consume my heart as we journeyed forward along its broken path.

But by and by, another shallow pit…another place of rest. Once again, my Lord sat down and spoke,

“Look at Me.”

As my gaze touched His face, He resumed His Word, speaking of Himself, His kindness, His steadfastness, His hope. Worship once again filled my mind and heart, offering Him my fumbling yet honest gifts of adoration. How long this went on, I do not know, but as my words quieted, there was offered to me another cup. Sure enough, the withered hole beside me reflected the brilliant sun in its fresh waters.

And again, He smiled.

Then He moved us onward on the path…

to another parched pit.

Another moment of worship. Another drink of satiating water.

Then another,

and another,

over and over again.

David says, in Psalm 27:4 that there was “one thing” he desired: the presence and worship of God. Jesus praised Mary, as she sat at His feet, for choosing the “one thing needful”: the presence and worship of God. (See Luke 10:42)

“It is in the process

of being worshipped

that God communicates

His presence to man.”

C. S. Lewis

More than a Sunday praise song or a few minutes of prayer, genuine worship of God is first submission with a whole heart—mind, will and emotions—and then, glorification (attributing worth-ship) of His Person.

“Let us draw near

with a true (whole) heart.”

(Hebrews 10:22)

“You are worthy,

O Lord,

to receive

glory and honor

and power…”

(Revelation 4:11)

“For God

Is the king

of all the earth;

Sing praises

with understanding.”

(Psalm 47:7)

Worship is not based on emotion or emotional experience. It is rooted, stemmed and bloomed from a heart bowed low before God—solely focused and given over to Him.

Desert ditches may be helpful in alerting us to our thirst for a closer relationship with God through worship—but they are not required. That “one thing” is available to any Christ-follower at any moment because He is always with His own—if we take intentional notice. Worship—that submitted, adoring, glorification of Himself—gives way to a deeper, more intimate relationship with Him. It is the starting point in hearing His voice, learning His wisdom and enjoying His presence.

As Jesus gives us more of Himself as we worship, He satiates our profound thirst and satisfies our fervent longings.

“O God, You are my God;

Early will I seek You;

My soul thirsts for You;

My flesh longs for you

in a dry and thirsty land

where there is no water.”

(Psalm 63:1)

“If anyone thirsts,

let him come to Me

and drink.”

(John 7:37)

I still walk in the desert. Although the impact of my “unexpected itinerary” is far-reaching, it is not as uninhabitable as I once thought. As I see my Saviour more clearly, He is growing in me a heart of constant worship—through which He, the Living Waters, fills the desert pools. Whether in moments of mundane work, sorrow and loneliness, enjoyment, or perplexity, these are opportunities to be aware of His presence and refreshed in His adoration.

Miracles of life are transforming this desert, little by little, into its own kind of beauty—a beauty of contentment, of relationship with the One Who dared to leave His own paradise to join me in this valley—Death Valley—

where, surprisingly,

thirst can be unendlessly quenched.

Wherever you are,

whether desert, plain or mountaintop,

seek Him in this way—

and you will not be turned away empty.

“Blessed are those

whose strength is in You

in whose heart

are the highways to Zion.

As they go through

the Valley of Baca (weeping)

they make it a place of springs;

The early rain also

covers it with pools.

They go from strength

to strength;

Each one appears

before God in Zion.”

(Psalm 84:5-7)