On these hang all the law and the prophets
WARNING: If you have young kids that know how to read, make sure they aren’t watching over your shoulder right now.
I don’t remember the exact day, but right around December 20th, 2016, I made a big mistake. I may not remember the date, but I will never forget the fallout.
A couple days ago I wrote about driving through the desert in the comfort of our vehicle and that I noticed just how vast the desert surrounding us actually was.
As I thought about Isaiah 43:19 that day, I realized that the “new thing” God is doing is not happening in the place where I am comfortable.
The first Sunday of each year is Vision Sunday at our church. It’s a time to “write the vision and make it plain”. We spend some time writing down what we’re believing God for in the coming year and then we pray over what’s been written. It’s an inspiring service and I am excited to be a part of it.
We’re still on the road. We’re in the middle of nowhere right now, a little over halfway from Tucson to San Diego. Outside each window the views are the same in each direction. Miles of desert, sand, rocks, cactus and small brush, with mountains in the distance and barbed wire fences up close.
We’re sitting here in our own self-contained, safe environment on wheels. We have leather seats, sunglasses, snacks, drinks, air conditioning, music, entertainment, blankets, pillows, and who knows what else. We’re in a bubble of safety in the middle of a vast, harsh desert. We’re confined to around 50 square feet, but as I look around on this mostly clear day, I can probably see more than 50 billion square feet from my spot in the passenger seat.
Right now, we are driving westward through New Mexico in the dark, rapidly distancing ourselves from Deming. The kids are in the back seat watching movies or playing video games or drawing or something. Kelly is on the phone with a friend. And I’m sitting here on my laptop. I should be working, but instead I am thinking about the same stuff that’s been on my mind the last couple days.