You may remember that in my last post I wrote about wordlessness. It was timely, because I’ve felt myself without words again over these last few weeks. I’ve found thinking, much less writing hard. Instead I’ve been reading—reading lots of things by people I respect about how to think through and name what is going on in our world right now. Here is a sermon from one of my professors, Stephanie Paulsell, on things unseen, including viruses but also conviction. Here is an article on the importance of the ordinary during these times. And below is a talk my mom gave a few months ago on wilderness, which I’ve been thinking about ever since. Thanks for letting me steal it, Mom.

In the beginning, Lehi received a vision from God telling him to leave Jerusalem and go into the wilderness. In the account of this story by Lehi’s son, Nephi, the wilderness looms large. It looms not only as a place but also as a metaphor for affliction. It existed as a wilderness not only because of its location but also because of what it lacked—the familiar as well as dreams once held dear.

It is not difficult to imagine that when Nephi traveled through the wilderness in the plains, wadis, and mountains of the Middle East; across the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean; and even the new-to-him uncharted Promised Land he missed the briny taste of olives and goat cheese. Did he also miss the colorful cacophony of Jerusalem’s marketplace? Did he miss the wet/dry smell of rain on the dusty streets of Jerusalem?