We woke up to a cloudless blue sky and a chilly 52°F (on its way to 80°+).
Amistad Reservoir, Texas
The rooster crowed a little late that fine March morning, having failed to read the memo about the time change yesterday.
We left the relative green of the Lake City area and headed west on I-90 toward our next destination: Seminole Canyon State Park.
I never cease to feel a sense of dis-ease while traveling through desolately dry areas.
To me, water is life and desert is death.
Deserts can bloom, but only if they’re fertile and irrigated with water!
However this stretch of Texas is mostly “desert grasslands,” with nothing more exciting than prickly cacti and acacia trees eking out an existence.
The term “God-forsaken” came to my mind, but I remembered that God has not forsaken the earth. He created a beautiful world and commissioned us humans to be caretakers of his wondrous creation. With our dominion, God also gave us freedom to exercise our creativity and harness our energy. In many ways, we’ve failed miserably at our job as global gardeners, but our commission hasn’t changed, and God isn’t indifferent. He’s still waiting.
(Note the wavy red line above,
which is the border between Texas and Mexico.)
Mexico and America have the tenth-longest border between two countries and the most frequently crossed international boundary in the world, so for the next almost 2,000 miles, we would be meandering very close to the border between the U.S. and Mexico, giving me many days to ponder the problem of national borders.
There are only 48 border patrol checkpoints (and 330 ports of entry) to handle the 300 million+ people who cross the border every year, so I can’t fathom the complexity of trying to protect people from from illegal entries.
For the vast majority of the territory, the borders are patrolled by our Department of Homeland Security using satellite images, drones, dirigibles, low-flying jets, lasers, and patrol vehicles, etc. (At least, we saw evidence of all these.)
Mule deer leaping across the road and into the brush.
I’ve never personally had to deal with all the illegal aliens coming into America, but I spent several summers trying to help refugees who got stuck at the border or who left their children at the border so they could cross without being caught. We worked in Aqua Prieta (which means “Dark Water”), where a huge community of refugees were trying to survive at the city’s dump, building tiny shelters out of bedsprings, cardboard, and plastic bags . . . and searching for bits of edible garbage in the refuse.
My heart aches for people who are so desperate they risk their lives attempting to cross blistering hot desert areas in search of a chance for water, food, shelter, and work.
And yet, I totally understand the plight of those people who have built homes and are trying to survive the desert life. It looks painfully difficult. It’s not like they have more water and food than they need. I’m now embarrassed to admit that on our trip, we looked in vain for a donut shop where we could stop for an elevensies snack. Non-existent! There are donut shops at almost every exit in the Northwest, Northeast, and Southeast. Do you know what they have in the arid regions of the Southwest? (See below:)
Nothing. You’re lucky to find an open gas station every 70-100 miles.
We have dear friends in Germany who’ve been involved in peaceful demonstrations recently, opposing the ultra right-wing group who have recently been elected and are trying to kick out all the refugees who’ve come flooding into Germany from Ukraine, Syria, and points east and south. As Christians, how are we supposed to cope with the world of want and need everywhere?
We saw all sorts of animals scurrying across the highway as we traveled, and of course I thought about the illegal immigrants trying to smuggle themselves in across the borders.
Many of the animals were new to me— javelinas (which look like little wild boars), bobcats, lizards, and roadrunners, most of which darted out of nowhere and disappeared again so fast I couldn’t get photos.
A few didn’t survive. “Lord,” I cried. “This isn’t really no-man’s-land. It belongs to somebody(ies). Who should have the right to live here, and what’s our responsibility?”
Does the land belong to the people who’ve paid for a title from the government? If so, they deserve protection from the government.
What about the people who simply want to pass through the land? It seems like they deserve protection too.
By the time we made it to Seminole Canyon State Park, it was getting late in the day.
By looking at a map, I realized the southern edge of the park literally shares a border with Mexico.
The park seemed almost completely empty. Would it be safe to camp there all night, or would some illegal immigrants come to our door, asking for help? And, if they came, how much help should we try to give them beyond food and water? Would be safe to offer them to join us in our “Sanctuary” for the night???
We did find a small group of fellow campers at the park, but we didn’t see a single wayfarer, and no one came to our door asking for anything. I felt disappointed with myself for feeling relief over not needing to help anybody. We had a pretty sober dinner and then took a short walk to watch the sun setting behind some thorny mesquite trees.
Did you know honey mesquite trees can send their roots down 160 feet to reach water? It made me think of the 11+ million illegal immigrants in America today, struggling to get deeply rooted and find a home here.
I am not wise enough to begin to know how to handle the problem of illegal immigrants and refugees, but I know the One who knows the answers: Jesus. Ultimately, this land isn’t simply “my land” or “your land,” the world belongs to Christ, because He made it!
He invites us to follow him through the wilderness of life (even learning compassion and trying to untangle politics) and promises to show us the way. I can’t speak for others, but I can trust God to show me what He wants me to do.
He is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). He is the bread of life (John 6:35) and the water of life (John 4:14).
Jesus Christ alone can save us (Acts 4:12). He is the light of the world (John 8:12), and if we surrender our wills to Him, He will lead us out of the desert and into abundant life (John 10:10). That’s true for American citizens, illegal aliens, and every other person living in the world today. Whether you’re a desperate refugee fleeing your country or a frustrated landowner trying to protect your country, God can help each of us figure out what He wants us to do in the midst of crisis and challenge.
“I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go:
I will guide thee with mine eye” (Psalm 32:8).
Summer Setting 