I remember when I was a college student, I spent one summer working in southern Maine in the resort town of Ogunquit. I was there as part of a small ministry team reaching out to tourists and and other college students working in the area for the summer. It was a dream come true, being there in that beautiful town on the ocean, but it also was one of my early wilderness experiences as a believer.
It was the summer after my sophomore year, and though I had been in college for two years, I hadn’t really been away from home like this. Taylor University, where I was an undergraduate, was only two hours from my parents, and between their visits to see me and my trips home on the weekends, I probably hadn’t been “on my own” for more than a couple of weeks at a time. So beings hundreds of miles away in Maine for 12 weeks was big.
Inflated expectations of this summer experience also set me up for great disappointments. What was supposed to have been a team experience ended up being three very different people stuck together for a few months. The only other woman on the team ended up leaving early because of some personality conflicts with the ministry leaders, and her leaving actually was a relief to me too. I welcomed being alone more than the constant conflict.
Things were hard financially, too. Not only did we each have to pay to go on the trip, we also had to get day jobs to provide for our needs throughout the summer. Some days, having two nickels to rub together was about the best I could do.
Surprisingly, I have only fond sentiments about the experience. I was young and adapted pretty well to conflict and poverty. (I was a college student, after all). And though the experience was difficult, it actually was a fairly safe environment for me to struggle in. My parents would have sent money had I needed them to, and I could have gone home at any time. In sticking it out, though, and struggling through what was given to me, this trip has become an important memorial of God’s faithfulness and provision to me.
Memorials are important to the Lord. Throughout Scripture, he instructs his people to do things as a way to remember their relationship with Him. Things like tassels on the corners of garments were given to the Israelites to remember the commands of the law. Unleavened bread became part of the Passover celebration to help God’s people remember how they left Egypt in haste. Even the sacrament of communion was given by Jesus so we would remember His sacrifice.
The Lord gave a special memorial to Israel as they were leaving the wilderness and preparing to enter the promised land. They had been wondering for 40 years. In a grand gesture, the Lord parted the Jordan River as the threshold into their new home. But while the water was walled up on each side, the Lord told each tribe of Israel to send someone into the river bed to gather a stone, and when they had returned camp, they built a memorial. Their wilderness experience had begun and ended with God’s miraculous provision of parted water, and He wanted them to remember His faithfulness forever.
That’s what my summer in Maine has been for me: a remembrance of God’s faithfulness in the wildernesses of life. An oil painting of the Maine coast hangs in my living room. It’s a decent piece of artwork, as far as artwork goes. But its significance is far greater than composition and texture.
When I look at the painting, I remember the days when I went to work at the beach snack shop with no money for lunch, and someone would unexpectedly leave me a $5 tip. It wasn’t even a job where I was supposed to get tips. I also remember the path along the ocean, and the big rock tucked around the corner. It had an indentation the exact size for me to sit in, as if God himself were holding me and keeping me safe. I went there to forget my loneliness. The picture also reminds me of God’s faithfulness in bringing people into my life that summer. They were a rag tag little group comprising the wayward middle-aged man I met on the beach, the retired woman I lived with, a houseful of college students who invited me to parties and movies, and a 20-year-old recovering alcoholic who wore black lipstick and worked in a shop I liked.
As we are heading into the last days of our Lenten wilderness, it will be easy to forget God’s faithfulness to meet with us and help us grow unless we establish a memorial. Pick just one thing — maybe a card you received from a friend, a rock you found in the back yard, or napkin from the coffee shop where you go to read — and set it aside to help you remember. Remember that God is faithful, even in the wilderness.
Christianne and SP — Thanks so much to both of you for sharing more about your experiences.
Christianne — I have been meaning to read St. John of the Cross for years — I really need to put that on my list.
SP — Your rocks sound wonderful. I’m looking forward to checking out some of those Africa pictures too!
Happy to share – one rock says July-August 2004 on one side and “Africa” on the other. It reminds me of a six-week trip to Africa I took – as do some of the pictures I have hanging in my house – and the amazing things I saw and that God taught me while I was there (check my blog on Tuesdays for stories from that trip). Another says July 31, 2006 on one side and “resign TI” on the other side. That one reminds me of the decision to leave my job, which I loved, in order to stay home full time with my daughter. It also reminds me of God’s daily provision for my family as we moved to one income.
Charity, I love what you said about its providing some discipline in your spiritual walk and a path for you to walk that you wouldn’t naturally walk yourself. I’d never thought about it that way.
I grew up Catholic until about age 9, until my parents separated and my mom started taking us to non-denominational Christian church. That’s where I met Jesus in a profoundly personal way, but there’s a part of me that always knew Him. I didn’t have any appreciation for the sacrament and tradition of the Catholic church until college, when I took in a lot of church history and readings of the church fathers. Then I started craving more of the reverential approaches to Christ and appreciating the long history of the church worldwide.
All of that opened my eyes up to a certain level of how much more God is about than what our mainstream evangelical churches teach. But it wasn’t until I discovered St. John of the Cross during my sophomore year, wrote a paper about him and his “dark night” teachings, and then proceeded to watch one of my closest friends walk through an 8-year dark night of the soul that I really began to believe God operates in ways we cannot always fathom — and which are not always accepted by mainline church teachings. Most of the churches today say that if something’s missing in your walk with God, guess who moved? I just don’t believe that’s true anymore.
I have a box of encouraging cards and notes that people have sent me over the years. When I am feeling down I don’t even have to open the box, just remembering that it is there lifts my spirits and reminds me that God loves me. Sometimes He loves and encourages me through His chosen ones. Thanks for reminding me of the box under my bed!
Christianne — My church affiliation at present is Baptist/non denominational. But I haven’t been learning about wilderness experiences (at least in that language) there. For the past several years, I have been watching and listening and taking in the language, liturgy, and traditions of some of the “mainline” denominations. It began with Advent, then The Book of Common Prayer, then a brief time in a Presbyterian church when I lived in Chicago. The church calendar and the prayer book seem to take me each year (each day, sometimes) to places in my spiritual journey I wouldn’t go to on my own.
I totally understand the hesitation people have with high liturgy and calendars and the like if they’ve grown up with it or have had negative experiences with it. I think Paul warns us in Colossians that these practices can be misused. But I have been craving this order and ritual in my life as a kind of spiritual discipline to keep my eyes focused on Christ and off myself.
I’d love to hear more about your experiences, too. Anyone else is also welcome to join this conversation.
I loved your story, too, Erin. What a marvelous thought, that He had you in mind YEARS ago when He planted that tree. Wow.
And I’m with Laura that my memorial is my words. That’s exactly what my mind went to as I started reading the application portion of your post. This is such an encouraging thought to me, given what I recently shared on my blog about the writing wilderness space I’m in right now.
I so appreciate that you speak in the language of wilderness experiences. By the way, what church affiliation are you? When did you first become aware of the wilderness experience as part of the spiritual journey? This has been in my consciousness for about 10 years, but I don’t know many believers who know of it. It’s always refreshing to meet one more.
Oh, Spaghettipie, thanks for sharing about your rocks. I LOVE that idea. What a wonderful way for your family to remember together. Want to share one of your memories?
Erin — Thanks for sharing about your willows. I can just see God waving to you from the backyard! It’s good to picnic with the Lord right where we are.
Ted — The grass is getting greener, the trees are budding, and your yard probably has all kinds of surprise waiting for you. Hope you have fun out there this weekend.
Craver — You’re speaking my love language! Thanks for stopping by.
LM — I did a word search in an online Bible of the word “remember” and I was amazed at how often we are given this command.
I’ve often found it interesting that in the limited pages of the Bible (limited in number not in meaning or significance), that the Lord chooses to record the story of the Exodus so many times. I think it’s because the children of God needed to hear the story over and over in order to remember God’s faithfulness.
LL — Words and stories are often memorials for me as well. In fact, just telling the story of my summer in Maine really brought me to the Lord yesterday evening. The struggles I am having right now are nothing to worry about for my faithful God.
Good stuff, Charity.
Loved your post today. In No Ordinary Home by Carol Brazo, she talks about building an “altar” in your home. Her altar is a place where she hangs old keys from pretty ribbon – one for each memory or lesson she wants to remember. In our home, I have a basket of rocks (from Maine, actually!) I label one side with the date and the other side with a 2 or 3 word description. They are inconspicous, but sometimes noticed, providing a wonderful open door to talk about what God has done in our family’s life.
Charity, Good thought. The Spring does remind me much of what you say, the newness of God’s life breaking through and becoming evident.
I’m going to be working on what has been my sorry little front yard this weekend. Hopefully I’ll be reminded more than just the barreness and struggle with the fall that has largely occupied my thought regarding it the last few summers.
My memorial: the 2 weeping willows in my backyard.
It’s my favorite tree, but I never ever thought I’d get the chance to own one, let alone two, let alone two that are full grown.
When we moved to the East coast from TX a year and a half ago, I felt my spirit ripping right down the middle. While it was good to finally be back near my family (the purpose of our move), leaving behind our adopted church family of 10 years was so, so difficult. Best friends, solid teaching, knowing others and being known… the complete package… left behind.
But, ahhhh! The way those willow branches sway in the breeze. It’s God standing in my yard and waving to me. “Hello, Dear! I had these willows planned for you for a long time; my own little surprise. How do you like them? I loved you in TX, I love you here. I know you miss your friends, but let’s have a picnic.”
Choose something… I think that in some strange way I have chosen words (50,000 or so) as a way of remembering. I know that words are not something you can really hold, but they are a precious form of remembrance for me.
A beautiful post. We are so prone to forget, which is why God continually reminds us: remember.
I am encouraged by your remembrance. Thank you for sharing it.
Ted — Yes, lots of things can serve as reminders, even if we don’t set them aside. Are there certain things you have been looking to lately? For me, the new buds on my bushes are constantly reminding me of God’s renewal through Christ.
A good reminder!
Charity, Thanks for sharing that and for your challenge to us. I tend to look at more and more things around me as reminders of God’s faithfulness to us. And that he is good, no matter what.