I think it is no coincidence that I have picked up this book right after the wedding of my daughter. I find as I read Chryssavgis' thoughts on the desert and its meaning in our lives that there is a definite analogy between the men and women who traveled into the desert to live lives of solitude before God and that of being an empty-nester.When the children are gone, the parent moves into another phase of life, one that is filled with quiet, loss and loneliness; a grieving for what was yet, still, anticipation of what may come. The sense of purpose that once ruled each day changes dramatically. Activities that once were no more than peripheral now become the stabilizers in one's life.Not unlike the desert experience of the Fathers and Mothers. They left what they knew for the unknown solitude of the desert. Granted, they made the choice; for us as parents, the choice is thrust upon us, but we know the day the child comes into our world that our job as a parent is to bring them to this moment: to give them wings and rejoice when they find they can use them to fly. This move to the desert necessitated a rebuilding of life, both externally and internally. They had to learn to live in a cave or cell without the comforts once taken for granted. They had to first tolerate the silence, eventually allowing it to rule their existence, all the while anticipating the spinning on the Potter's wheel.Can this life be called empty? Chryssavgis writes:"So the desert, while accursed, was never seen as an empty region. It was a place that was full of action. It was a space that provided an opportunity, and even a calling for divine vision. In the desert, you were invited to shake off all forms of idolatry, all kinds of earthly limitations in order to behold - or rather, to be held before - an image of the heavenly God. There you were confronted with another reality, with the presence of a boundless God, whose grace was without any limits at all. You could never avoid that perspective of revelation. After all, you cannot hide in the desert; there is no room for lying or deceit there. Your very self is reflected in the dry desert, and you are obliged to face up to this self. Anything else would constitute a dangerous illusion, not a divine icon."Abba Alonius said: "if one does not say in one's heart, that in the world there is only myself and God, then one will simply not gain peace."Just myself now, before this boundless God, anticipating the turning of the wheel, seeking His grace and peace.
Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
