Have you ever been in what feels like a desert place in your walk? You seek after The Christ, grasping for your Emmanuel on your way to some destination, perhaps in pursuit of destiny even – not doubting, but you have questions, and He seems distant, out of earshot and out of reach? A place where you strain to hear His voice, and things don’t seem to readily fall into place – as though His hand, The Hand  which administers the oil of ease had been withheld – especially in this season with destiny calling; this season where you’d expect just the opposite experience. You seek wisdom and direction, and for your praying, petitioning and reasoning, find confusion at a time in the earth and in faith when its seems there’s such a narrow margin of error. And you begin to wonder, “Jesus – why isn’t my season working? Is it me, am I the reason you’ve withdrawn, or is it You leading me yet into hard (as in stronger) trusting?” Why do You seem absent, Your presence seemingly vacant at a time when You should be reigning?” We know the truth is that it isn’t that worst case scenario of (Psalm 51:11) at all – You have not abandoned us or withdrawn your precious Holy Spirit. Yet we nurse this unfulfilled longing.

But we’ve been seen this condition before haven’t we? And though our comfort zone lamentations pale in comparison to what Our Lord suffered for the sake of His sacred love for us, still He though entirely pure, is not unfamiliar with our infirmities and our weakness, for He himself confronting a dreadful longing, cried, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” … “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Matt 27:46)

S.O.S.

And it is from what felt like an ill-timed desert a place, sending out my own S.O.S. in that moment, that He came and tenderly lifted me with His Word. Reading through the Book of Luke last year, I was so mesmerized – so in awe of His ways – I mean His character, personality, mannerisms: His attitudes, composure, brilliance, strength, competency, compassion, grace; His power, the demands and the agony of His pure and sacrificial love – all of it. And this year as I read it again, the Holy Spirit showed me so many tremendously amazing details I hadn’t seen before, yet approaching the end of the book, which synchronized with the eager expectancy of Passover, Holy week and Resurrection Day or “Holy Risen Savior Day” (a title donned by my sister, which I think I’ll adopt from here on), there was a palpable vacancy in my soul that was hard to understand, much less dispel.

Early on Resurrection Sunday I read the remaining verses of Luke 24. Past the earlier verses describing how the women who had prepared the spices and ointments for His body went looking for Him but didn’t find him; Past how the men/angels who appeared to them explained the mystery their eyes beheld, and had to remind them of His saying “The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and the third day rise again” (Luke 27:7);  Past eleven Apostles who discounted the women’s report and past Peter’s going to see for himself; Past the two dejected followers on their way to Emmaus, rehearsing and reasoning over [disappointing] events that had recently transpired, despairing that Jesus had failed to meet expectations for their deliverance, and who were failing to recognize the Risen Savior in the moment He appeared and engaged in conversation with them. (Eventually this group of lamenting followers is also reminded of His prophetic purpose – actually chastising them for not believing what had been prophesied about His suffering and glorification). “O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?” (Luke 24:25-26)

Gone too Soon

But It was this text that answered my S.O.S. and made all the difference for me that day, “And they drew nigh unto the village whither they went, and He made as though he would have gone further. And they constrained Him saying: Abide with us for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent (Luke 24:29). Why would that development be so poignant? It’s a little hard to explain … Well, if you’re in a dry and weary land where you perceive no water is, you want rescue, and are perhaps at first just desperate for the Savior’s thirst-quenching companionship. And when He invites you to do so, you pour out your cares to Him (As Jesus had invited the two travelers to share their burden with Him), it’s liberating. You’ve communed with Him, you’ve been vulnerable and transparent before Him. That in itself – even short of the full manifestation of His presence, is such a tremendous state of grace that the thought departing from His company or He from yours would be for for those followers and for me, parting too soon. So there’s that twinge of sadness you might get when you’re about to part company with someone you cherish – and so you bid them – stay.

Promise & Process

But there’s so much more to experiencing Our Savior’s companionship than cathartic release and comfort. Most often – perhaps even each phase of relating to Him, is a repeatable, cyclical call and response process – especially those seasons or moments which pivotal milestones in our journey: the invitation, partial realization, engagement, chastisement, intimacy and revelation, momentum, devotion. (These seem to make for such apropos wheel within the wheel dynamics: spiritual gears calibrated to transcend the limitations of earthen vessels and earth bound circumstances – even to contend with the battles in heavenly places where even so, the battle is not ours). But i digress …

The act of releasing our cares upon Him is indeed a certain grace afforded even before His presence is fully realized or manifested. In fact this inability to recognize His presence at times may actually be by design. The scripture says “But their eyes were holden that they should not know him.” (Luke 24:16)

Communing with Living Water quenches an initial thirst, and if we engage for awhile, eventually we’re moved  to “constrain” Him to abide, at which point He comes in to tarry with us, and to break bread – now Communion is complete. Our eyes are opened and we know Him – at once satisfying our present and eternal hunger. “And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, He took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them.” And their eyes were opened and they knew Him, and He vanished out of their sight.” (Luke 24:30-31)

The good news is – the two fellow travelers were focused on Jesus – sort of a distorted and misguided focus, true, but their conversation, and their deliberations weren’t on frivolous things. They were discussing Yeshua’s life (albeit based on their flawed, limited understanding). He was on their minds. In their thoughts. And then in Luke 24:14-17 He draws near and makes the overture that invites them into an affirming, transformative experience of Him, one He’s prepared in advance. He sets them up for the exchange: translation from a state of disappointment and possible disillusionment to one of clarity, peace, hope and conviction with this question: ”What manner of communications are these that ye have one with another as ye walk, and are sad?” (Luke 24:17) The ensuing encounter concludes with the Risen Savior vanishing out of their sight – but now, this time, they’re not dismayed. The Risen Christ has in His great mercy, revealed Himself to them, and they’ve been revived, fortified, and are indeed so excited and emboldened that they abandon the Emmaus plan and return to Jerusalem (where prophets are stoned and Savior(s) crucified, to proclaim the good news to the eleven remaining.

Image by C.George