The desert to which Christ calls me, in fasting and in solitude, is not for ecstasy but for contemplation. It is for learning to be satisfied with the knowledge of His Presence, not euphoria. In the desert, my life becomes Christ; as I lose all other identities and worldly props. I am here because He called. I am here because He is Love. I am here because I’m willing to give up all but His Light. In contemplation, I am light; nothing else, nothing special. I have no special perception and I do not ask for anything; merely being in His Presence. I am neither saint nor sinner nor wisdom nor dullness. The others here with me in the desert, fasting and contemplating and utterly silent, form a chorus of pure joyful thought communicating with Love through a channel of unified innocence and holiness. There is only one well from which we drink the living water; and only one life which flows in our veins. Having given up all else, only His joy is ours; as we are Christ.
For what other purpose would I use my human life? Does the problem of not knowing God strike anyone as crucial? I have nothing to give but everything of the world to lose in order to remember Love. At what point would I give up on God and go out to eat? At what point would I stop in my tracks and realize what it is I really want; falling at His feet in gratitude for His ever extended Love. He did not ask for more than my glance; and suddenly I saw and was captivated.
I worked out on the porch early this morning. My passion for Him was in the nudging of the resistance on the bike or the speed of the treadmill. I ran 6 miles this afternoon. My passion for Him was in the effort of racing up a hill, the squinting at the sun, or the sudden looking up to see a bird. I went to work and related. I went to WalMart and smiled. I sat in silence, in light, and waited; embraced by Love.
Christ is my whole life.