"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."
Isaiah 43: 18-19
This is a passage that I've encountered many times before. It's not uncommon to find it on a greeting card or note of encouragement in Christian circles. Every time I've heard these verses in my past, they were used in the sense of stating the God would eliminate the wastelands and the deserts in our lives. People clung to these verses to claim that the new place God was creating in our lives were places of beauty and abundance.
So what does that mean for those of us who live with chronic pain? How are we to envision our lives as places of beauty and abundance - places devoid of deserts? The way people used these verses became problematic for me after my injuries. They were basically claiming that I needed to move on and find my place of abundance. How can this seem true when much of my experience feels like a desert?
These are the types of claims I sought to avoid in my recovery process. So it seems fitting to confront them in my project of unreading. Once I read these words unattached from the voices of my past I discovered a new dimension. Nowhere in this text does it claim that the deserts and wastelands will be eliminated and turned into places of lush abundance. The wasteland remains, but it will contain a place of a refuge and sustenance. There will be a place where you can be refreshed. Indeed, this is the context given if you only read the next verse in the passage.
"The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the desert and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen,"
Isaiah 43: 20
These are the things I wish more people heard from churches and Christians in general. Rather than creating situations where people betray their own emotions and put on a happy face because they feel like there isn't room to explore their personal places of grief and desolation, that they are instead assured that in the midst of their pain and emptiness, there will be places of refuge and renewal. For those in the midst of struggles, the latter is an oasis, while the former is a mirage.