Desert sand makes you stronger ...

When I started this post, it was one year ago to the day that I began treatment for Hepatitis C.

The journey began on Jan. 9, 2005, and ended Dec. 17.

Some members of my family would say it seems an eternity ago; however, to me it seems much closer. Perhaps it's because while the journey was long, in many ways it has yet to end.

One way is that the side-effects of PEG-Intron (pegylated interferon) and ribavirin can last for about six months after the treatment ends. You also have periodic lab work done to check the "viral load,'' praying that you remain virus free.

In essence, there is no "cure'' for Hepatitis C; therefore, the journey continues.

Taking that first shot of PEG-Intron and that first dose of ribavirin was a step in faith:

• faith that the medicine would do the job;
• faith that God would sustain me through the side-effects, and guide the doctors and nurses in the use of their healing gifts;
• and faith that personal prayer and corporate worship would carry me along.

What I did not foresee was how the community of faith would sustain me through acts of "agape'' love -- that Christlike love -- and carry me in prayer when my own prayer life faltered.

I confess that at times during this journey, it's been difficult for me to pray. It was a journey into a "dry and thirsty land without water.''

Have you ever been there?

The thought of walking through a "spiritual desert'' may seem foreign to you; however, this land is nothing to fear. There are, in fact, spiritual benefits to the journey:

• You learn not to take intimacy with God for granted.
• You discover that self-sufficiency in your spiritual life is as deceptive as self-sufficiency in the material world.
• You find that even though our God of grace answers perfunctory prayer, such prayer fails to feed to the spirit.

It is only through those intimate times of solitude with God, looking for the lines on the face of Jesus, that we gain the spiritual energy necessary to minister in this world.

As best as I can determine, my own journey began with a desert we created last year for a Lenten experience in the sanctuary of Green Meadow United Methodist Church. We used 900 pounds of sand, hundreds of feet of carpet protector, hundreds of feet of landscape burlap, and other materials to create the desert. It was the scene most Sundays in Lent for different participatory aspects to the worship experience.

One of those involved the story of Jesus' encounter with a Samaritan woman at Jacob's well, found in John 4:5-42.

A small "well'' was created with some landscape block purchased from a local home improvement store. On one side of the well was placed a stack of cups and a water dipper that worshippers could use to drink of the ``living water,'' if they were spiritually thirsty; on the other side, packets of sand that worshippers could retrieve if they felt they needed to draw closer to God through solitude.

I probably should have used the wheelbarrow to truck some home with me -- the sand, as well as the water.

But I wasn't even aware of my own need; after all, my desert journey was yet to come.

Walking through my spiritual desert, there was little sense of being distant from God -- perhaps because I knew God was very close.

What is it the psalmist says in Psalm 139?

"Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
"If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.''

We are not alone on such journeys. God goes before us, and Scripture tells us in Romans 8 that the Holy Spirit intercedes for us when we do not know what to pray.

Faith traditions explain this intercession in different ways; for instance, glossolalia, or speaking in tongues, is but one of those explanations. Still, consider the possibility that one other interpretation is of the Holy Spirit interceding for us through the Body of Christ as we share one another's burdens.

That was the case during this past year, as I found myself at a loss for words when people would tell me they had been praying for me as I underwent treatment. One such instance occurred at a denominational gathering when a fellow pastor said, "My family prays for you every day.'' Our only connection was through pastoral classes we shared at Hiawassee College, and yet his family prayed for someone they had never met.

Other instances involved e-mails and posts on my blog, citing words of encouragement and prayer.

Those are acts of unmerited favor -- displays of agape love.

Then there is my local community of faith -- "The Meadow'' -- where a medical "gang of three'' took turns helping me with injections, often twice a week. It was an act of love that helped me make it from weekend to weekend as I counted down 48 weeks of treatment.

Christlike love, the prayers of the community and the power of the Holy Spirit carried me along on this journey -- most of which was spent slogging through spiritual sand.

At the end of the desert, you find yourself strengthened and assured that God goes before us.
In Luke 4 we are told that Jesus was "led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil.'' Afterward, we read that he "returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit ''

Perhaps we should consider that we, too, can be led by the Holy Spirit into the desert, only to return much stronger than before.

Do not fear the desert, for God is with us.

Grace and peace ...