Lent 1
Lent: Living in the Wilderness
The season of Lent has a lot to do with wilderness. Designed to imitate the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness, Lent includes the 40 days (minus Sundays) between Ash Wednesday and Easter. In this season we are invited to enter instead of avoid wilderness. We are encouraged to embrace discomfort, instead of letting it be a deterrent...trusting that there is life there.
Scripture Reading: Genesis 16:1-16 & 21:8-21
Twice in her life Hagar finds herself in the wilderness. She experiences isolation, exile and the threat of death. Both times we see that God is present, hears her, and shows her favor. Eventually the wilderness becomes home to her and her son, Ishmael. The place where God blesses them by fulfilling what was promised.
As you read her story, notice what God does. What characteristics would you use to describe God based on this story?
Practice:
We invite you to embrace the wilderness experience during this Lenten season.
This week, embrace some of what Hagar experienced in the wilderness. Seek out some time of solitude. Use this time to get in touch with the promises of God. Check in with yourself in relation to these promises. How much are you trusting God right now? What evidence is there in your own life that God keeps promises? Where do you have unmet hopes? What do you want to say to God? What is God saying to you?
Stories from the Wilderness
Each week this blog page includes a story, written by one of our elders, in which they reflect on a wilderness experience in their life.
The story this week is written by Stacy Tarango.
Hosea 2:14
“Therefore, behold, I will allure her,
and bring her into the wilderness,
and speak tenderly to her.”
I was longing for nature, desperate for quiet time breathing fresh air while walking among trees and flowers. I was weary of the noise and concrete of Los Angeles, where cell phone towers made to look like palm trees offered little comfort and where mocking birds sang car alarm melodies. A day at Huntington Gardens promised the Sabbath rest that I deeply desired and so I packed up a few snacks, my Bible, and a journal and planned to spend the day glorying in creation. I wandered the paths, taking in the manicured Japanese and Chinese Gardens, the architecture and fountains, and the native plants. My route through the park aimed at finishing the day in the majestic rose garden, where the anticipation of gorgeous colors and scents promised a celebration of beauty. And so I finally turned the corner toward the rose garden and arrived only to find a field of thorny sticks without a single leaf or petal. It was January. Even Southern California has January. My heart sank. It was more evidence that things do not always go as planned, that hopes can be dashed, that disappointment, rather than joy, may be around a corner. And so I reminded myself that spring flowers would come and that winters of hibernation and preparation are precious seasons as well. But my heart was heavy. I headed toward the desert garden, an area that had seemed a bit out of the way and didn’t merit a stop on my original itinerary. I was already in a desert, after all. That was the whole problem. But I entered the succulent garden and found myself astonished. The variety! The complexity! The sheer brazenness of these plants that insist on growing and blooming in the harshest of conditions. I meandered the garden and conservatory and marveled at plants of every shape, texture, and shade, some with their leaves arranged in complex geometric patterns and some with bold flowers putting their rosy cousins to shame. I smiled at the little tags with ridiculous names given to the plants for their resemblance to bunny ears, bear paws, fairy castles, or golden barrels. My experience in the desert garden was one of overwhelming grace. My spirit was consoled and encouraged as the driest of landscapes was flooded with hope. And every succulent that I see now offers a reminder of the strength and beauty to be found in the wilderness.