Deserts have always held a strange sort of fascination for me!
I used to look at pictures and read stories about deserts; and
yet I had never been in one until I came to America. On some Sundays
I accompanied a friend to Anza Borego Desert, and later on she
bought a house in another desert and went to live there, and I
was able to spend some weekends with her.
It was a real experience to rise early and walk into the brooding
silence which seemed to envelop everything. It was also interesting
to examine the plant life and to note their various methods of
survival in those arid conditions. The cacti with their thorns
were very forbidding, but another plant which had large hairy
leaves, very rough to the touch, held my interest. These, my friend
informed me, were called Joshua Trees and after breakfast she
would drive me to see a whole forest of these in a nearby valley.
I was surprised to find that the desert was no means as flat as
it always appeared to me to be, for now we drove into valleys
and around mesas, or hillocks, which consisted of layer upon layer
of coarse, beautifully colored gravel, or pebbly soil. It turned
out to be a long drive to the Joshua Tree Valley; and the forest
of Joshua Trees was nothing very spectacular, for if you have
seen one, you have seen them all! What is more, the heat was becoming
unbearable, and we had not thought to bring drinking water with
us. Worse still, when we returned to the car we found it had sunk
to the sump in sand! What now?
The only solution we could come up with was to hunt around for
flat rocks to put under the wheels while keeping a wary eye out
for scorpions! But the harder we tried to accomplish this the
lower the car seemed to sink! The burning question was-what now?
The true meaning of utter helplessness was brought home to us
in our isolation! We could have just as well been in another world
except for the fact that we caught sight of several coyotes lurking
behind shrubs, already licking their chops. How fear can fire
the imagination!
We were in a desperate plight, to say the least. The vibrations
coming from my companions were depressing, and I could think of
no encouraging suggestions. The longer I stood there, the more
overpowering the negativity became. Dangerous as it might be,
I had to walk away! I climbed a hillock to my right so that I
could be alone to pray positively in this situation. I had to
call upon Heaven, for only God could help us now!
Such situations make us realize the difference between prayer
from the heart and vain repetition! I could think of no better
prayer than the one learned at Mother's knee: "gentle Jesus,
meek and mild, look upon a little child." Only now the wording
had to be changed to "look upon these Thy helpless children
in their present plight." I had hardly finished praying when
I became aware of a presence beside me, and in astonishment I
looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever beheld!
I can tell you nothing more about this person, whether male or
female, or what they wore, for my gaze was riveted on those eyes!
I had to look up, therefore the being was tall. "Gather stones,"
was the command given. I remember nothing of the activity that
followed: I cannot recall looking for or lifting a single stone,
but I must have helped. All I recall was being back in our vehicle
and driving along the tracks made in the sand by the vehicle in
front of us, a vehicle out of nowhere, and then suddenly realizing
that the car was no longer in sight, even though the countryside
was flat for miles around.
I still thank God that His Angels are mechanically-minded when
they have to be! It is through these wilderness experiences that
we learn to become conquerors, and they do not have to occur in
a desert. He died for us, so we are no longer under the sentence
of death but under the shadow of the Almighty. "He that dwelleth
in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow
of the Almighty" — Psalm 91:1
— May Miles
— Rays from the Rose Cross Magazine, January/February, 1996
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