“When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord suddenly took Philip away, and the eunuch did not see him again, but went on his way rejoicing. Philip, however, appeared at Azotus and traveled about, preaching the gospel in all the towns until he reached Caesarea.” (Acts 8:29-40). 

Some of us will walk it through. Some of us will be delivered from it en route. But all of us, every last one of us, will come to the end of our desert road.

We have come to ours…at least as far as our focused time on the life of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch is concerned. It is time. It has been a hard write for me, but it has been worth my pause. I hope that you can say the same. As I’m writing, I realize that the “ending” of my words in the matter, doesn’t necessarily mean the ending of our deserts. In many ways, desert dwelling will be our portion until we see our Jesus face to face.

How you finish this thing—this one life that you have been given—will walk its own unique and highly individualized cadence. Your conclusion may not punctuate like mine. Your timing may sequence different than mine. Your difficult may temperature hotter than mine. That is the way of a desert walk. Each uncertain sand that we pilgrim is allowed us by God for an intent that sometimes exceeds our appreciation.

How he chooses to flesh out his intention is exactly that—his choosing. There is mystery divinely woven into a desert’s allowance. We will not always understand God’s sovereignty in the matter. And what is not always understood often becomes the breeding ground for…

doubt.
frustration.
anger.
silence.
guilt.
tears.
depression.
quit.
_________________.

Indeed, if our focus remains mired in our misunderstandings, we fall prey to spiritual blindness. To eyes that cloud with the current rather than vision toward the horizon. But when our focus shifts to the providence of God’s leading in the desert, our eyes and our hearts birth something far greater than confusion. Consecrated focus yields seeds of…

faith.
trust.
peace.
perserverance.
wholeness.
witness.
joy.
follow through.
want to.

Philip and the Ethiopian kept their focus in the desert, and at the end of the day, each man received a portion of God’s consecrated provision and promise for his life. They received Jesus, both in the giving and in the receiving of Truth. They couldn’t have known on the front end of a desert’s embrace how the ending would paint. They simply took to the road with God as the objective.

And when you and I pilgrim a desert road for the same reason, we can rest in the assurance that, like Philip and the eunuch, our Father holds the brush on our behalf. He is after a masterpiece in each one of us—a portrait worthy of the throne room of heaven. He never rushes the process. He times it for his advantage, and ultimately for ours. Our hand in that process?

Relinquishing the brush and the canvas and the palette of colors to the One who always paints with holy consecration in mind.

The portrait that God painted in Acts, chapter eight, is completed with the brushstrokes of two men rejoicing and moving on. One returned, most likely, to his Ethiopian homeland with fresh perspective. One was literally snatched from the scene by the Spirit of God and painted onto the landscape of a Caesarean community where he would continue in the ministry of the Gospel (see Acts 21:8). Their paths would never cross again on this side of eternity, but I believe that both men would tell us that their desert detour was worth the gain.

This, my friends, is the way of a desert road when Jesus is sought. When he becomes the focus of our pursuit—no matter the climate, the terrain, the hot and the hard—he is found. He is the Gain. The great Reward on the front end, at the close, and with every pause in between.

Jesus is the joy of the desert. Regardless of your current condition…regardless of how tedious your now…there is holy consecration to be found in all seasons of living. This is the sure promise we take with us as we move on from here.

Let us walk it like we mean it. Let us live it like God means for us to live it. On purpose. With purpose. For his holy and consecrated purpose, now and forever. And by all means, let us do it together. And so I pray…

Burn your purpose into my life, Lord. Let it breathe the witness of your presence, no matter my road. Whether in heat or in mild…in sands or in solid…keep my eyes fixed to the horizon. Bolster my “want to” and shepherd my “follow through” until I see your consecrated purpose birthed within me. Keep my heart in tune with yours, and never let me forsake the needs of the brethren because my needs breathe too needy. Thank you for the desert, Lord. Thank you for its heated embrace that has brought me refinement. Thank you for the road that leads me home to you. Amen.

Copyright © July 2008 – Elaine Olsen. All rights reserved.

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Today we finish this series on “Living Our Consecrated Deserts.” Thank you for coming alongside and studying this portion of Scripture with me. I welcome your thoughts and comments in the matter. I will be stepping away from the computer for a few days to spend some time with my young ones while the other members of my family are in Bolivia. I will be checking in from time to time, but strongly feel I need a pause. God bless you each one. I look forward to hearing from you in the days ahead. Shalom!

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