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As a kid I remember not appreciating the desert. For one, it was always SO hot, and it seemed like nobody else was drenched in sweat as quickly as I was. Secondly, I couldn’t see what was so special about a bunch of dirt and rocks and a few prickly plants.

While I still sweat profusely, a new appreciation has grown in me. (Also, visiting during winter = game changer.) I now find beauty in the dirt and rocks I once took for granted. Desert sunrises and sunsets are unparalleled. I’m left in awe by the way the light and the shadows paint the desertscape.

This appreciation of the desert grew over time. A similar shifting paradigm is taking hold of the desert spaces in my own life. While I can’t say I’m loving this middle season like I do a desert sunrise, I can honestly say there have been humbling moments of awe. Moments where God has undeniably met me in this middle season, in the waiting, in what has felt like a vast desert of nothingness at times. He has grown in me an appreciation for life, one that extends beyond just the comforts or the easy to spot goodnesses. I’ve had to gaze more intently at the desert around me, and growing in me is the ability to appreciate so much of what I once took for granted. This rocky, prickly, dry desert season is only made beautiful by the light God pours into my life, and that is where I find my hope.

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