What if the wilderness you are wandering is one of the mind?
As you probably know, I am fresh off a trip to Iceland. It was a “bucket list” kind of thing. Tom and I were going to plan it ourselves, but in trying to do so I quickly realized, regardless of how many videos I watch, blogs and books I read, I am not qualified to put that much content into something I know nothing about. So, we hired a travel agent. Best $600 we’ve spent in a long time.
Except for one part.
I don’t know if she was trying to “fill time” or what . . . but one day part of our itinerary was to “walk” to an abandoned plane wreck in the town of Vik. Key word, “Abandoned.” It was in the middle of nowhere and nothing! Little did we know.
The fact that there was a shuttle taking people from the parking lot to the plane site should have been our first clue. The second clue – the fact that the shuttle went out of site as it traveled down the path.
Long story short, it was a 2.25 mile walk one way.
Now, in perfect weather, that’s not a big deal. But in ten-degree sleet and blowing rain? Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly channeling my adventurous spirit. On the way out, we made light conversation, trying to distract ourselves.
The return trip was miserable – no words, just silence punctuated by the sound of sleet and wind.
Tom broke the silence with a single comment: “I feel like I’m lost in the wilderness.”
That comment struck me deeply. In that moment I realized the wilderness wasn’t just a physical one – it was also in my mind. Then I thought of how the Israelites must have felt all those years, waiting on the messiah. Waiting on someone to rescue them from their oppression, their darkness.
Also, how they must have felt when they were physically wandering through the wilderness. Waiting, hoping to find their promised land.
Their minds wandered to old comforts, even the toxic ones like slavery, just as ours do when fear or uncertainty creeps in. Sometimes, the past—however imperfect—feels safer than the unknown.
Think about that . . .
Sometimes the past – however imperfect – feels safer than the unknown.
Ever do that? Wrestle with not being in the present moment and find your mind starting to fixate on things that are harmful to your mental health well-being?
On that walk into a vast spans of nothingness, I was physically present but mentally somewhere else. I found myself needing to be intentional about what I let my mind dwell on during that walk. The cold and the sleet became background noise to the real battle happening in my head. My thoughts wandered to places I didn’t want to go—things I wish I’d done differently, words I wish I’d said (or unsaid), worries that had no business taking up space.
During this Advent, may we be mindful that we do not wander in the wilderness alone. Even in our wandering, there is a light—steady, constant, guiding us forward. The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for years, waiting for their Messiah, clinging to the promise of something better. That same light is here for us, too.
If you find yourself in a wilderness of the mind, take heart. You’re not walking alone. God’s presence is with you, steady and faithful, even in the uncertainty. The wilderness isn’t the end of the story—it’s part of the journey. And the light is always shining, just like Rudolph, ready to guide you home.
Today, what will you do to look for that light that will guide you home?
Prayer:
God of the journey,
Thank You for being the light that never fades, even in the wilderness of our minds. Help us to release the worries and regrets that pull us back and instead fix our eyes on Your presence, steady and constant. Guide us through uncertainty and remind us that we are never alone.
Amen.