A Lenten Walk in the Wilderness — Issue 24

“Our Wilderness”
— Malcolm Guite

 

“To walk into the wilderness, to leave
The comforts, crutches, clutches of your world
Behind, what would that mean? Of course you’d grieve
The loss of all those affirmations, peeled
Away like onion skins, like fading screens.
Perhaps you’d find the silence threatening
At first. What then? What if that silence means
More than you know, is pregnant, quickening,
Transmuting into music? You might hear
Afresh your haunting question ‘Who am I?’
Then, sounding from some centre neither near
Nor far away, and neither low nor high,
Beyond the reach of any praise or blame,
You’d hear the Nameless singing your true name.”

 

Malcolm Guite, a published poet and minister in the Church of England, writes here about a time in the wilderness. His line, “To walk into the wilderness, to leave the comforts, crutches, clutches of your world behind…” reminds us that stepping away from what is familiar is not easy. Walking in contemplation, removing distractions and focusing on the Spirit, even when the terrain is rough, is a challenging spiritual discipline.

 

We have now entered the Lenten season, a time that invites us to look inward. As we reflect and dig deep, we make room for the Spirit to speak and to be heard. Sometimes this journey requires letting go, leaving certain comforts or habits behind. Jesus himself did not have the comforts of home in the wilderness. In a similar way, the group travelling from KES to Tanzania will experience discomfort, yet they will return with a profound sense of growth shaped by that very discomfort.

 

One of the common practices during Lent is fasting. Fasting is not comfortable, yet its purpose is to help us lean more intentionally into God. The Lenten journey includes struggle—mentally, physically, spiritually, and through temptation in many forms. Wherever struggle exists, growth is also possible.

 

Whether you are fasting during Lent, trekking up Kilimanjaro, or simply walking the streets of Windsor, know that you are not alone. Walking through your own wilderness—whether it is a season of uncertainty, challenge, or waiting—does not mean that we are lost. It may be that we are being prepared. Prepared for what? Perhaps to serve with integrity, to lead with humility, to trust when outcomes are unclear, or to choose faithfulness over convenience.

 

We can walk steadfastly, holding to the promise of the Gospel—not avoiding the tests before us, but facing them with courage. Most importantly, we do not face these obstacles, journeys, or disappointments alone. God is always present: steadfast, true, and guiding.

 

 

Blessings,
Madre Greer