Sandstorms

I took this picture while we were driving through the Arava Desert. Visibility was poor and by the time we arrived in Eilat, our skin and hair were grimy and dirty, even though the windows in the car were up and the vents were closed. This sandstorm was definitely not one of the Middle East's worst; by comparison, really treacherous sandstorms make this one seem tame.

I remember Jean Saad - a British-born Jordanian - talking about sand to depict a point during a teaching session. She said, "There's a lot of sand in this part of the world." And she's right. It's everywhere. In the United States, it's okay to dust only once a week. In the Middle East, if you don't dust nearly every day, big dust bunnies will accumulate under beds and in corners of rooms.

When we first went to Jordan, we stayed with the Reeds until we got settled into our own apartment. The breeze was nice, so one day I opened the window. The cleaning lady happened to be there and let me know that an open window was not a good idea. The breeze I was enjoying would bring with it fine, almost imperceptible, dust. It would be everywhere...and she would have to clean it! That was my introduction to how dust creates an annoyance for people who live in modern Middle Eastern homes.

Sometimes the Bible compares multitudes of people to the sand of the seashore. Abraham was promised that his descendants would be as innumerable "as the sand which is upon the sea shore" (Genesis 22:17). God reaffirmed this promise to Jacob, Abraham's grandson, again using sand as an illustration (Genesis 32:12). The final battle of all ages will be a dreadfully spectacular display of troops, "the number of whom is as the sand of the sea" (Revelation 20:8).

Aside from representing vast numbers of people, the Bible uses sand in other contexts also. In Egypt, Joseph stored up so much food that it was "as the sand of the sea" (Genesis 41:49). Solomon's wisdom is compared to the sand along the sea shore (I Kings 4:29). And God's thoughts "are more in number than the sand" (Psalm 139:17-18).

God used sand as an object lesson because people living in the Holy Land would have no question about what He meant. Though the landscape varies dramatically, it is still mostly all desert. And desert means sand...a lot of sand, so much sand that no one can measure it.

Biblical people lived with sand, adjusted to its brutal intensity. For them, there were no intercontinental flights available so they could cash in the harsh desert for a cooler locale. The desert was their world. From birth to death, it surrounded them, influenced them, shaped who they were.

And the Middle Eastern sand is not pleasantly arranged along the beautiful backdrop of a Hawaii-type setting. The sun is ruthless and the temperatures are merciless. Where the desert is flat and punctuated by little more than an occasional acacia tree, dust devils form. Where the desert land becomes cragged, impenetrable, and steep, it deters all but the most tenacious individuals. Even where the sand dunes rise and fall, creating a gloriously daunting sight, the desert - not fragile man - commands respect. This is not a place for the faint-hearted.

The lifestyle of Bedouin tribes closely mirrors the lives of biblical patriarchs. When sand swirls around the Bedouin - the people of the desert - they draw their head coverings around their faces for protection. Today, when a sandstorm threatens cities, residents are told to stay indoors if they have asthma or other respiratory problems or if they are very young or very old. A person caught unprotected in a sandstorm has little hope of survival, so the long head covering is an essential item of clothing for a Bedouin desert dweller.

From my first naive introduction to desert life, as I enjoyed the curtains gently blowing in the dusty breeze, to driving through a genuine sandstorm in Israel's Arava Desert, I have gleaned a fresh respect for and understanding of biblical people. Their lives were not easy, but they thrived, they grew, they learned. They had no choice, no alternatives, no options. God assigned them to life in the desert. End of discussion.

Interestingly, I observed that the weather is not a popular subject in the Middle East, as it is in the United States. Whatever comes, they will face it, but they have little interest in analyzing it.

The tendency to ask, "Why?" seems to be imbedded within us Americans. We also ask, "Why me?" We want a logical explanation, a professional analysis that makes sense of our storms.

Job wanted answers also. In the heat of the desert sun, he sought relief from the sore boils - the black leprosy - that plagued him. The sun's heat somewhat eased his pain but even so, he was driven to scrape himself with shards of pottery. He asked "Why, God?" But God's voice was silent.

After many chapters of analysis and questions, Job got his answer. It wasn't the one he wanted. To Job's many questions, God finally replied, "Who is God? Are you God, Job? Who created this world and everything in it? Did you do that, Job? Why don't you stop talking and just trust me?" In the end, God's ways really were best for Job. God really did know what He was doing. Rarely will we understand the storm or its purpose until it is over.

The most difficult storms to accept are the ones we create ourselves. The 1930s Dust Bowl - a time of drought and severe dust storms - resulted mostly because farmers did not use proper farming techniques. They ravaged the fragile topsoil layers of Oklahoma and other areas. Essentially, farmers destroyed their own land. The repurcussions were devastating. When the drought and wind came, it took with it the farmable soil. But even when we create our own problems, God will still help us. He is overwhelmingly patient and kind. He'll help us pick up the pieces of our lives and start anew.

Trust. Don't fight the storm; find the Secret Place and retreat into its shelter. As the Bedouin wraps himself in his garment, protecting himself from the wind and sand, cold and heat, so can we be protected when we submit ourselves to the coverings of our God. It is really not important that we understand the storm; even if we understood it, we are powerless to change it. Trust, rest, retreat into the arms of the Creator.