“You are just like that cactus when your soul is dry. You push people away and become defensive.”
While on vacation recently at a horse ranch in Arizona, I took daily trail rides on my horse on the dirt trails that extended for miles on the ranch property. As our group ventured out onto the land on the first day there, I took in the beauty of my surroundings as the clear, deep blue sky stretched out for miles above me. In the distance, majestic mountain ranges joined the sky at their peaks and served as natural borders for the ranch property. I took a slow, deep breath of the clean, dry air and began to allow relaxation to infiltrate my weary, stress laden body.
As we continued along the dirt trails, I saw mile after mile of one cactus after another growing every couple of feet amidst the dry, reddish brown dirt of the desert land. I was amazed at how many different types, shapes, and sizes there were, each one so unique. I steered my horse as close to each one as I could, and as I examined one after another, I thought to myself, “These things are kind of ugly. It would get really old and depressing to live out here in the dirt and have to look at only dry, prickly cacti every day when there are so many beautiful, soft, green, leafy, flowery plants and trees which are so full of life and vitality in our world.”
As an Empath, I am drawn to the beauty of nature in a very spiritual way. I like to feel its life and its beauty in my spirit by closely examining all of the unique colors, patterns, and details, smelling its aroma, feeling its texture, and sensing the spirit of life in each living thing. The more I examined the cacti, the more their unique beauty began to grow in my eye and in my soul. In my childlike wonder, I had to actually see for myself how sharp and sticky the spines were on the cactus, and I wanted to feel the texture of the hard but smooth green stalks which were covered in them. It didn’t take me long to find out that they are as sharp as needles.
I knew logically that the design of a cactus enables it to survive in the desert, as its spines deter animals from grazing on the plant and help the plant retain moisture. However, despite its efficient means of survival, I felt frustrated that my desire to feel and fully enjoy the beauty of the cactus plant was thwarted by the plant’s prickly spines of defense.
In my moment of frustration, truth suddenly hit my spirit. I heard with clarity, “ You are just like that cactus when your soul is dry. You push people away and become defensive. You even lash out sometimes and stick people with your thorns when you feel threatened. Your softness diminishes, and you prevent people from sharing more deeply in your beauty.” Wow! Truth hits hard at times we least expect it.
Interestingly enough, that is exactly why I was out there in the desert, of all places, to find water for my dry soul. A verse from Psalm 63 came to my mind. David prayed to God when he was exiled in the wilderness of Judah:
“O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly; ?My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You,? In a dry and weary land where there is no water.”
The desert, a dry and weary land, to which David referred, was his picture of life without closeness and intimacy with God. For without God, there is no water, nothing to quench the core need of our souls. And that’s where I felt like I was at that time, in a dry and weary land where I could see no water and where I felt desperate for God. The stress of work and of life felt overwhelming and burdensome. The responsibilities of running a business, taking care of a home and yard, caring for animals, paying bills, answering endless emails and phone calls, not getting enough sleep, and taking care of everybody else’s needs before mine. I was dry. I was prickly. I was weary. I was empty. I had nothing to offer anyone, and I just wanted to be left alone.
I felt a desperate thirst at the depth of my soul, and I needed water. I didn’t need just any water though that quenches temporarily so you can keep going a little longer until you’re dry and prickly again in another day or two. I’d had enough of that for the last few months. I needed a waterhole in the wilderness of my life that only God could provide. I needed His living water.
David’s statement in Psalm 63 expressed the despair of his soul brought about by his experience of the futility of things other than God to satisfy the deep longings of his soul. I, too, felt that despair. I knew that we, as human beings, were created for God and for fellowship with God, and that at the core of our being is a vacuum that only God could fill. But we so quickly and easily forget that, as we continually strive to fill the other deep longings of our soul that never satisfy.
So there it was for me. That day in the desert, God showed up. He so beautifully reminded me that He is who provides everything my soul could ever want or need. He showed up in a dry and weary land, in my dry and weary soul, and he offered me a waterhole.
His rest and rejuvenation.
His peaceful truth.
His beauty. His love.
His living water that quenches even the most desperate thirst in my soul.
I just had to open my eyes to see it.
Connie Jones, MA, LPC| 770-862-6088