EMBRACING THE DESERT: SURRENDERING EVERTHING TO GOD

This Lent, we’re inviting you to share your stories of walking through the desert with Jesus. (See intro here.) Want to share how you’ve embraced a desert of faith in your life? Email us at bulletin@stmcary.org with your story.

By RGS

"When I was young I used to read of how Christian hermits would retreat from the world into the desert, and so the idea of a 'desert' had a dreamy, heroic sound to me. I used to long for that same retreat into the desert, ‘somewhere out there.’ Little did I know that the desert was something entirely different, a place of austere surrender to God. In due time, I was given my own walk through the desert.

I was raised in a Hindu family, though grew up essentially as an agnostic, seeking truth yet without faith. Around 4 years ago I was called to faith in Christ, a call that remains the great treasure of my life, and in the summer of 2017, I began the journey of entering the Catholic faith through RCIA. Much of that time in RCIA was a rich and beautiful revelation to my soul. I remember those months as some of the most joyful of my life. At last, I was preparing to follow Christ! At last, I, too, would belong to Him. I felt I had entered a great treasure-house.

Yet during Lent of 2018, in the months before my baptism, I suddenly found myself in a spiritual desert. The rich consolations I had experienced the year before slowly dried up. A great loneliness descended upon me. I had been in the midst of separation from my husband, after years of abuse in our marriage, and it was during this time that I felt most desolate. We were undergoing a painful legal battle that was particularly grueling during those months before my baptism. I saw no hint of change from my husband; instead, there was a slew of depositions, failed mediations, and court hearings to plow through. At times I felt utterly drained. Could I keep going? I saw no way back; all around me was a wilderness, the wreckage of legal war. Again and again, after each new obstacle, I would wonder, Should I just go back? This is too hard; I can’t keep going on.

Yet I knew that without any sign of remorse or change from my husband, that going back would be even worse than before. I thought often of the exodus of the Israelites from their bondage in Egypt, and found some solidarity in their travails. They, too, had wandered through the wilderness for many years, striving to follow God yet often failing. They had complained to Moses many times, lamenting the land they had left, pining for the “fleshpots of Egypt.” I, too, missed the comforts of what I had left!

Up till Lent, my faith had brought me tremendous strength in my journey, yet somehow during those last weeks before Easter, I could no longer find much consolation. My soul was dry and parched within. I struggled day after day against the temptation to 'just go back.' I knew that now I had consecrated myself to following Christ. I had to continue this journey, even through this most desolate of times. My marriage, in a way, was the sacrifice. I had to leave behind the old life of darkness in order to discover the true life of faith. I couldn’t have both. Thus, I surrendered everything to Christ. I knew not was to come; I knew not whether I would ever emerge from this dry and barren wilderness. I knew simply that I could not turn back. The Lord had called me, and I was His. I was no longer even my own.

I remember that during Holy Week of that year, many of the people in my RCIA class were full of excitement for the coming sacraments. Yet I was full of fear and trembling! I sensed how utterly unworthy I was of the gift I was to receive. I looked within my soul and found nothing of merit. How could I dare to be called one of His? I had been so ignorant of Christ for most of my life. I struggled under the weight of my own nothingness, so undeserving of God’s goodness.

At length, Easter Vigil came. I was baptized, confirmed and received Holy Communion at the Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral in 2018. That night marks a turning point in my life, as it does for most converts. That night, my faith became a real and living thing, through the grace of the sacraments. I was now a daughter of God, a beloved of Christ! I could scarcely believe the transformation had actually happened. I, who had been born and raised Hindu, was truly Catholic. Now, when I looked upon the crucifix, I saw the Lord’s love for me, for I knew that He had died for me.

The night itself was a flurry of activity, so that I couldn’t quite process what had happened. Yet when I returned home, I perused through some gifts I had been given by my friends in faith, and I suddenly wept for many minutes on end. I was overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of God’s grace in my life. The Lord had blessed me with the richness of His love, assuring me I was not alone, but was truly His. Earlier, I had been wandering alone through life, and now, I found myself richly blessed with new friends in faith, many of whom had come to share in the Easter Vigil rites. How good the Lord was, beyond anything I’d expected! I savored the fragrance of the chrism oil on my forehead, wishing I might never wipe it away. Christ had marked me as His own!

Thus, I emerged from the desert of that Lent to a new life in Christ, rich with graces I could never have imagined. I have never looked back. Whenever I happen to stumble into new periods of dryness or desolation, I simply remember those months when I first began to fall in love with the Lord.

God’s grace, though, surpasses all expectation. Last year my husband and I were given the extraordinary gift of possible reconciliation, even after all we had been through. I do not yet know where God will lead us, but for now we are blessed to experience once again the friendship and love we knew before. All things are possible with God!"

If you’d be willing to share a desert you’ve embraced, email us at bulletin@stmcary.org