Child of the desert

I was born in the desert.
Sand, clay, bare mountains
These were the playgrounds of my youth.

I grew up in the desert
and all my life I dreamed of green.

I longed for green trees, emerald mountains, lush grass
and hated the barren land around me--
land that refused to yield a single lilac--
so much as a petunia.

I lived for years in the desert
Until, at least, I was able to move

I asked God for wisdom,
I asked him to guide me.

And so, following God's lead,
I obediently moved

To another desert.

I was devastated,
Yet somewhere, I knew
There was a lesson to be learned.

I looked at the cactus,
Squat, bulging,
Bare and spiny.

I asked it--
Wouldn't you rather be a pine tree?
Wouldn't you rather be tall, beautiful

and green?

I saw the jagged brown mountains--
Majestic, yes,
I had to agree to that

But so bare.
So brown.

Wouldn't you rather be ablaze with the beauty of the Spring?
I demanded.
Wouldn't you rather go from green grass to a rainbow of flowers?
Wouldn't you love to be covered in snow?
Wouldn't you rather be anything
Besides what you are?

That night, I dreamt of the desert.

I saw the cactus,
squat and bulging
Bare and spiny

But green!

I saw it through the lens of years
Saw it bloom
Saw it grow
Saw it reach arms to the heavens
Praising God in the midst of its barrenness.

I saw the bare mountains--
Rugged and jutting
Blazing forth the truth of God--
Unadorned, unornamented,
But there for all to see--

A testament to God's majesty.

In my dream,
I heard them speak to me.

The cactus wondered why I judged--
The mountain was quizzical.
Why didn't I appreciate what I saw?

I knew in a moment that they spoke not of themselves--
They gloried in what they had been given,
What God had seen fit for them to be.

They wondered why I was unappreciative
of what God had planted
within me.

They wondered why I chose to judge myself--
my form, my shape, my very being--
and find myself wanting.

I heard them chuckle.

"Here she is, made in the very image of God
and yet she wants more!"

I woke from my dream with a new understanding.

I am a child of the desert.
I have been chosen to walk in sand
and to learn to admire the handiwork of God in all things,

Not just those things that come easily for me.

In the same way,
I must learn to accept this truth:
God made me who I am.

He made me with a form,
a figure,
a design that was carefully crafted
and beautifully blessed.

All of us were.

It is only when we stop trying to change ourselves--
be who we are not--
That we can finally learn to appreciate God's handiwork
In ourselves.

I am a child of the desert,
and I love the mountains' breathtaking glory.
I love the glimpses of green that come for brief moments
and then are gone once again.

I know that it is because I live here,
In a land that has little water
That I am so grateful for the smell of salt air,
The scent of pine in the dewy breeze.

And so, God,
although I know it is long in coming,
I thank you for making me not only who I am,

But where I am.