This weekend was one for a lot of reflecting. I thought a lot about deserts. And philosophers. And the combination. Why is it common for wise men to take time to pray and fast and just be by themselves in the desert?

The discipline-control-freak in me wanted to take off for the nearest desert and figure it out. But that led to another question. Why are there so few mothers who are recognized philosophers? Have you ever heard of a mother wandering off in the desert to find herself and being in any way lauded? They are usually considered nuts who abandoned their children for selfish reasons. Maybe that is true.

As a mother I can't run away and figure out the important questions in my brain. I have to figure it out as I'm running. Sometimes, however, motherhood reminds me of a desert. There's the scorching of my selfish desires as I work towards a purer, more altruistic vision; there's the searing heat of soul-searching in order to make sure that what I am doing out of freedom won't result in bondage for my child down the road; the thirst is palpable... thirst for knowledge, thirst for guidance, thirst for the best way to do everything because each small detail can make a big impact. Sometimes desert snakes startle me. Sometimes dust storms blind me. Sometimes I feel like it will be a 40 year journey and I will murmur and complain and never figure out how to mature, like many of the children of Israel. But, every once in a while, I find an oasis and see a leaner, more self-disciplined, reflection of a person with Living-Water-tuned-senses that is slowly shaping.

If motherhood can be like a desert, surely righteous children are as worth it as a Promised Land.