The desert is a desert because it gets no rain. It gets no rain because it gets no clouds. The conditions are hostile to plant or animal life.
Your heart is a desert. Uninhabited. Barren. It gets no replenishing rain because you never embrace the clouds. You’re stingy with what little water you receive and produce creations like shrubs and cacti. Your shrubs produce limited sustenance and the cacti, no soft place to rest.
I often used to settled in your desert like Terah dying in Harran (Gen. 11:31-32) and made idols of you like the golden calf (Ex. 32) only to be sunburned and left to endure the desert’s below freezing temperatures all alone. My heart became too sensitive to your elements and ravaged by your weather.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
― C.S. Lewis,
“I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.” -Ezekiel 11:19
You parked at the point of your pain. Its time to put the keys in the ignition and rev up the engine. The road belongs to you.
This is your invitation to Eden. Please join me…