A Spring of Living Water In the Desert

Several years ago, when my husband's doctorate was nearing completion and his job search had begun, I told him I would go anywhere in the world with him -- with one exception: I would never live in the desert. I learned an important lesson about the word "never" after that.

Here came the test. An exceptional job offer presented itself in Lancaster California. That little city is located in the Mojave Desert. When my husband told me of the offer, I found myself having to trust God's wisdom. As I packed our belongings for a move to the desert I remember saying, "God must have a plan for us there."

Within a few weeks after moving to Lancaster, I became increasingly ill. Every breath was an exhausting effort. The diagnosis of asthma was made a few months later, but by then, the asthma was well out of control. Allergy tests confirmed that I was allergic to everything in the desert. Asthma weakened my system so much that I became severely allergic to every plant and flower, all trees and grasses, all fragrances - natural or man-made, and nearly all the foods I had once enjoyed. The wet earth after a rain was a very serious threat, and the atmosphere became deadly for me whenever the wind blew. Every attack was a life-threatening episode.

Because of highly sensitive lungs, my physician placed me in complete isolation. Fortunately, it was my allergy proofed home and not a hospital room where I had to remain secluded during a long and dreadful year. Visitation was strictly prohibited because of the threat of allergens or irritants that could be introduced into my protective shelter. The only two people allowed to enter my secluded area were my husband and our twelve-year-old daughter.

At first I had great difficulty finding God's plan for me through this illness and solitude. I was very active before my affliction with asthma and the confinement made me very angry. I was angry because I couldn't breathe, angry because my life as I wanted to live it had ended, and angry because I couldn't express emotions. The expressions of anger, or grief, or laughter, stressed my lungs to the point of triggering life-threatening bronchospasms. Having to suppress the expressions of grief or laughter just didn’t seem fair. Most of the time, I couldn't even speak above a whisper. Climbing stairs was such an effort that I couldn't climb more than one or two steps before collapsing in sheer exhaustion while gasping for my next breath.

Because of the severity of the illness I was forced to inactivity; and that stillness went against the nature I had grown accustomed to. I had to relearn and put into practice the disciple of quietness. It's a discipline I took take great delight in during my prayer life a couple of years prior. However, working multiple tasks in service to the church became my focus and kept me from spending time with God and time in His Word. My spirit eventually became very stale.

In the silence of my sterile and isolated world, I grew to depend completely on God. I’d forgotten what that felt like. It was marvelous! As I listened, He revealed more of His infinite love for me. In the midst of grief I found joy, in my weakness I was being strengthened, and where a multitude of questions abounded, I was given answers. I had become parched and I was being revived by a spring of Living Water. My spirit danced!

That became the year of rediscovery. At the end of that year my allergist informed me that I needed to be enclosed in a plastic bubble for the remainder of my life. He justified this prognosis by stating that the outside world had become deadly to me and I would never be able to live in it again. I thought about that for a moment and then I made my decision. I said no, affirming that God did not create me to live my life inside a plastic bubble and He was certainly not finished with me yet. My doctor's response warned that I would die without the assistance of the bubble as my protected environment; but I had great faith in The God of the Impossible and I declared with great boldness, "Watch me. Some day I will climb a mountain.”

God took me to that mountain a few years later. But that’s another story.