And the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly and rejoice.” Isaiah 35:1

I’ve just come from the desert. Dan and I took a two week road trip to southern California and Nevada seeking warmth and sunshine. I’ve never considered becoming a “snow bird” before, but this year’s mountain winter has lasted a little too long for both of us. He loves to drive long distances to areas we’ve not seen and so we headed to places named for palm trees. I hope the 3,000 miles we traveled will satisfy him for a while or at least until my back – and Sitzleder/ bottom – recover.

In Los Angeles we visited Dan’s 83 year old cousin Isabella whom he hasn’t seen since he was 8. Their family reunion is amusing material for another writing. A few days later we drove to Palm Desert to be with a friend who moved from Idaho. She and I are practically twins, sharing very close birthdays. More importantly, during a very difficult time she was Jesus in the flesh for me. I’ve missed her a lot.

We’ve been to the desert before, to the South West and a lot of Texas which I can only describe as arid , dreary and endlessly lined with scrub brush. This time I saw the desert blooming and it was glorious. Beautifully landscaped and coddled Palm Desert was in full flowering. The cacti and desert shrubs planted in gardens, alongside golf courses, in planters and along the streets were adorned in magenta, orange, flaming reds, purple and yellow blossoms. Some looked like crown jewels. Others were as delicate as hummingbird wings. I couldn’t stop drinking in the colors and textures splattered like bright daubs of paint onto the vegetation.

Away from the “gated” residences and shopping areas, the open  desert was no less spectacular. Spikes of thorny ocotillos were topped with clustered,  red , finger shaped petals. In the middle of nowhere, fields of ochoalla sprouted cream colored flowers, like unpicked cotton bolls. Along the roadsides, patches of red or yellow wildflowers suddenly accented rocks and underbrush.

I kept wondering at the contradictions around us. How inhospitable to life the desert seems. How can such dry, prickly, uninviting and unlikely- looking succulents produce flowers to rival the rose? Where is the water which makes the desert bloom?

We drove back home through Nevada and past adobe red, wind- carved rock formations in southern Utah. Finally, we stopped in Salt Lake to be with my daughter and her family. On Good Friday my oldest granddaughter Gretchen sang with her choir the Latin hymn Stabat Mater in the Madeleine Cathedral. I recognized the despairing opening verses from my childhood. The hymn is the fulfillment of Simeon’s prophecy to Mary, that her heart would also be pierced with a sword , foretelling her presence at Jesus’ crucifixion. In a solo Gretchen sang the stanza where Jesus dies.

Vidit suum dulcem natum.   Morientem desolatum  Dum emisit spiritum.

“She saw her sweet Son
dying, forsaken,
as He gave up the spirit. “

I listened to our granddaughter sing this verse and suddenly my heart  filled out.  It  bloomed as unexpectedly as desert roses drenched by rain. God was answering many years of prayers for my family right in front of me in the voice of our girl. What I never thought possible was unfolding with both of us. She doesn’t know it yet, but her gift of singing gave glory to the Giver. The evil   clutches which Satan had  intended for us, God was turning into good. And I shall gladly bear witness to the miracle.

It isn’t by chance that we were in the desert before Easter, nor that we were in Salt Lake on Friday to hear Gretchen sing. We remember the Lord’s death with great respect and sadness, but rejoice at His Resurrection. Jesus has arisen and given new life, His very own, to those who ask. He fulfills every promise made to us. And that is the found grace of His Resurrection.

I  come out of the old and barren desert. Like the deadly looking ocotillo, now in full bloom from unseen waters, my heart rejoices and my spirit flowers. Christ’s living water pours forth over every parched, dried out, forsaken and arid place, just as Isaiah foretold:

Water will gush forth in the wilderness
and streams in the desert.
The burning sand will become a pool,
the thirsty ground bubbling springs. Isaiah 35: 6-7

How could the prophet have described my heart condition so accurately?