Through the Wilderness

I stood completely still, frozen with indecision. Should I go left or right? Finding myself all alone, I couldn't see over the walls all around me and had no clue which path would lead me to safety. If I had only stayed with the others it would be simple, but in my curiosity I couldn't help but wander. It seemed as though I would never find my way out. Stuck in a labyrinth of dirt and corn, the fear that the others had left me behind and forgotten me started to consume me. It was only a moment before a friend found me and I once again reunited with our group. My panic was only for a small moment, yet the same fear I experienced in that corn maze is one I again wrestled with only a short while later.
One of our weekly chapel services for school rolled around, and our speaker talked about the name of God, the Hebrew word comprised of the letters Yod He Vav He, which we commonly see as YHWH. It was considered so holy that no one was even supposed to utter it and a different name was substituted.

Some have noted since that this very word is the sound of breathing. Stop right now and simply take a breath. Do you hear it? Do you hear the name of God on your lips? It is the first and last word we will ever say. It is the sustenance of our very existence. He is that deeply ingrained into our being.

As our speaker closed and asked us to bow our heads, I felt hot tears working their way down my face. I couldn't tell you why I was crying. I only knew something was calling me from deep within my heart, something ached, and I knew God was asking me to come to Him. It is one of the most profound and extraordinary things in the world, to feel Him calling, pursuing, wanting me.

After we had been dismissed I rushed out of the front doors of the chapel. He was calling me, and I had no intention of missing our divine date.

Without even thinking about it, I headed straight for a spot He has often met me. The way was treacherous. I faced spinning sprinklers and deep puddles, but I finally reached my destination unscathed but for being sopping wet and streaked with mud. A bit shaky, I worked my way to the railing, intertwined my hands, and bowed.

As soon as I quieted my heart it broke, and I began to cry. For awhile I simply stood there. No words, just a deep emptiness. A deep hurt. A deep craving. After a short while, my fears and worries began to gather inside me, weighing heavier and heavier on my heart. I felt my body react - I leaned on the fence for support, my shoulders dropped and my head fell into my hands. What was this? This crushing weight? This suffocating heaviness?

I knew. It was the same thing I'd experienced in the corn maze. I was acquainted well with this consuming thing all to well: fear. A fear that runs to the very core of my being. The world has left me terrified that I am not worth fighting for, easy to walk away from, and easy to forget.


My whole body shook. Where was God? Where had He been for years? Why had I been left to wander alone for so long?

And then I heard it.

 My own breath in the stillness, whispering His name.

"Yod He Vav He."
In, out, in, out. 

All alone on the ledge, I finally not only knew it, but started to believe it: I am not alone. Not even close. God, You are here. Through hurt, through doubt, through it all, You are here. As long as I have breath You are with me. Not only that, but even then, after I have taken my last breath, even then You are there. No matter where I go, who enters and leaves my life, in my deepest struggles You are there. On the path to the right, on the path to the left, until my last breath, and even then. Even then I will not walk alone.

The tightness in my chest lifted and I felt my body relax. He is here. Now, when I go to college, when I experience trials and struggles, when I stumble, when I breath my last breath, always. Be still my heart, His presence is constant and unconditional.

I straightened, turned, and made my way back to the school. With my hair dripping wet, my makeup run off, and my clothes and hands smeared with dirt, I must have looked like someone who had just wandered through the wilderness. I had, in fact, done exactly that.