Lent: Welcome to the Wilderness

Lily, my beautiful and fierce 5-year old, asked me the other night, “Will you be in heaven when I get married?”

Her large blue eyes filled up as she awaited my answer.

With tears in my eyes, I responded, “I will always be with you.”

We embraced and I held her a little tighter, praying to God that I will be blessed to accompany her for many more years and decades. If not, trusting I will be with her in a different way.

Feeling the sadness of this unexpected encounter, I went down the Google rabbit hole after Lily went to sleep. I was quickly and painfully reminded of the odds against me with Stage IV colon cancer.

Overwhelmed by the reality before me, I then started to look up miraculous cures from Lourdes, hoping to visit there later this year. I looked up miracles attributed to the intercession of St. Charbel, who I have been bothering every night with prayers.

I remain hopeful but very much reminded of the reality of this disease.

And this is how I enter the Lenten season.

I tried to find the one word to capture how I felt, but it escaped me until I prayed this Ash Wednesday morning. I was reminded of the song, “Hosea (Come Back to Me)” , one of Lent’s greatest hits.

I was especially drawn to this verse, that comes from the perspective of Jesus to us:

“The wilderness will lead you to your heart where I will speak,”

Wilderness, yes, that is what this experience is. Sometimes, I feel lost, uncertain if this road of chemo will lead to my desired destination. Other times, and thankfully quite often, I feel the warmth of the sun and the beauty of creation that accompanies me on the journey.

This wilderness of cancer has returned me to my heart, and yes, I do experience God here. In return, it informs this blog, my podcast, and my advocacy at the United Nations. It also helps me be the best dad and husband that I can be.

The next lyrics of the song are equally important. Following the path of the wilderness to your heart, the next line says, “Integrity and justice with tenderness you shall know.”

The wilderness, as frightening as it may be, teaches and prepares us for a deeper relationship with Christ. The fruit of this relationship is an integrity and justice, with tenderness!

In other words, we are changed by this experience and we come out of it more compassionate, prepared to advocate for the needs of others.

(Let’s not lose the word-compassionate. How our world desperately needs more compassion, more empathy.)

Our suffering humbles us, connects us to one another, especially others who are suffering. And we do it with love.

This Lenten season, I am reminded to surrender to God’s will, and to trust that I am not in the wilderness alone. I find comfort in this, and it is better than going down the rabbit hold which only leads to fear and despair.

I pray your Lenten journey is one of peace, and that at the end of these 40 days, the fruit of your prayer, service, and sacrifice will lead you to a deeper relationship with God, and as a result, greater compassion for yourself and for others.

Let’s make this Lent a journey into and out of the wilderness, coming home to the unconditional love of God.