Miriam of the Desert

Misplaced devotion leads to collapse.

1 & 2 Chronicles highlight how devotion to created things—bulls, poles, altars, even abstracted practices—substitutes human-made images for the living God.

Chronicles sharpens this theme more than Kings. Again and again, kings who cling to these objects of worship, or rely on alliances apart from God, set their people on the road to ruin. Conversely, when a king “seeks the Lord,” life and restoration return.

When we give—including giving all we have—God’s generosity is always greater (Luke 6:38).

Job never even knew why he lost everything. But the trials he faced became a testament to his character and a gift that glorified God.

In Acts chapter 3, Peter and John go to the temple at 3 p.m. This was a common daily rhythm for Jews, one of the set hours for prayer (Acts 3:1).

A man lame from birth is laid at the gate called Beautiful (v.2). He is near the temple but cannot enter. His physical condition would have marked him as impure or excluded according to Levitical restrictions.

The man asks Peter and John for help, just as he likely did with everyone else arriving at the temple. At first, this is a reflex; nothing in the disciples seems special. But then Peter and John both look intently at him.

The verb used here in Greek is ἀτενίζω (atenizō): to gaze intently or fix one’s eyes. It’s the same verb used when the disciples stare at Jesus ascending (Acts 1:10) and when the audience fix their eyes on Jesus as he reads in the synagogue (Luke 4:20). These moments mark turning points where divine identity and transformation are revealed.

Peter says, “Look at us” (v.4), redirecting the lame man’s gaze. In response, the man sees Peter and John, expecting something (v.5). The one who needs healing turns toward a posture of receptiveness.

Peter says he has no silver or gold but offers something greater: the power and presence of Jesus active in him through the Holy Spirit (v.6). He says, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.”

His words mirror what Jesus said to the man at the Pool of Bethsaida (John 5:8), another man excluded from healing due to his infirmity. That man, too, was seen, spoken to, healed, and restored to community while residing outside the confines of holy space that rejected him.

The man responds. He doesn’t just walk—he leaps. His action reflects Isaiah 35:6: “Then shall the lame leap like a deer.” It’s a messianic sign of the new creation breaking in.

Peter instead points to Jesus.

Peter says it's Jesus’ name and faith in him that healed this man. And then, just as the lame man was invited to shift his gaze, Peter invites the crowd to do the same. He says, “Repent, therefore, and turn to God” (v.19).

Peter says that, in response to repentance, “times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord.” The Greek phrase for “times of refreshing” used here, καιροὶ ἀναψύξεως (kairoi anapsyxeōs), implies Spirit-filled renewal and relief. The very restoration promised in the temple now flows from Christ himself.

Peter then speaks of a time of universal restoration: ἀποκατάστασις πάντων (apokatastasis pantōn) (v.21). His proclamation is one of the most profound eschatological promises in Acts. It suggests not just personal salvation, but the restoration of all creation.

The temple is no longer the center. The whole earth will become God’s dwelling, as in Revelation 21, where no physical temple remains because “God and the Lamb are its temple.”

The Importance of Joy: A Miriam of the Desert Reflection

Through song and dance, we celebrate the world’s abundance and generosity. We proclaim that victory has been won over evil and death. “Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy” (Psalm 126:2). With our bodies and voices, we join the triumph of joy.

We find joy even within our sorrow, as the psalm reminds us: “May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy” (Psalm 126:5). In Ecclesiastes, we make time for joy, laughter, and celebration. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven… a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4). These are essential rhythms in the cycles of life. We pause to honor what was, what is, and what will be.

We are a hidden but rising renewal of the world itself. A lasting season of life, rest, abundance, and healing has begun. Safety, community, and festivity mark this sacred rhythm of rebirth.

Zechariah offers a glimpse of this new world’s peace: “And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets” (Zechariah 8:5). Innocence and kindness will be sweet, simple, and safe. Play will come easily and without fear. We are all being renewed as we become the renewal of all things.

As long as we rely on ourselves, fear will distort reality. Illusions of self-sufficiency block our ability to see clearly. “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Humility and trust must work together.

Without humility, we chase false forms of safety and control. A world shaped only by self-interest cannot sustain itself. Instead, we are called to surrender our efforts to God. We devote our energy to generosity and freedom, unbridled by fear.

Each time we remember this, we return again as prodigal children. We turn back to the One who nurtures and sustains us. We join the coming Sabbath where “all will be made alive in Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:22). “The wolf shall live with the lamb… and a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:6).

Easter 2025—Miriam of the Desert

“The Kingdom of God is among you.” (Luke 17:21, NRSVUE)

They were looking for signs.

For sky-cracking wonders.

For angels with flaming swords.

But Jesus said, No.

The kingdom is not coming with a spectacle.

It’s already here. Right in front of you.

In your midst. (Luke 17:20–21)

The reign of God walks among us

and we do not see it

because it does not flatter power

or conform to control.

It comes dressed in dust.

It smells like bread.

It takes the form of

a bruised and risen body

that still bears the wounds of empire. (John 20:27; Revelation 5:6)

Our inherent divinity is not buried deep

in some private soul vault.

It is not earned.

It is not lost.

It is not a secret for the spiritual elite.

It is visible.

It is plain.

To those who see with the eyes of Love—

God’s gaze, which sees truth and wholeness even in the broken. (1 Samuel 16:7)

Genesis shouts it:

You are made in God’s image. (Genesis 1:26–27)

Your body. Your being.

Reflects the divine.

And Jesus—

Jesus is the full image of what we are,

what we were made to be,

and what we will be

when death is finally swallowed up. (Colossians 1:15–17; 1 Corinthians 15:54)

“The Spirit abides with you, and will be in you.” (John 14:17)

That’s what he said.

The blood of Christ is not some buried relic.

It runs through this moment,

it lives in your breath,

it rises with your tears. (Romans 8:11)

The resurrection is not just a sign—it is a mirror.

A mirror held up to say:

The reign of God has begun.

Look again.

Sabbath is not the absence of striving.

It is the presence of joy. (Hebrews 4:9–11)

The feast set in the ruins.

The laughter of those who survived. (Isaiah 25:6–8)

Sabbath living does not ask what is missing.

It gives thanks for what is already full. (Philippians 4:11–12)

It names the kingdom

in the mother braiding her child’s hair,

in the neighbor who brings bread,

in the stranger who still hopes for justice. (Matthew 25:40; Luke 14:13–14)

This Easter,

we don’t just remember resurrection.

We become it.

We taste it.

We carry it.

Not for ourselves alone—

but as signs

of a world

NOISE FASTING: A COMMITMENT TO FREEDOM AND PRESENCE A Miriam of the Desert Practice

Personal Commitment I commit to stillness, silence, and presence before God. I commit to choose devotion over distraction, depth over noise. I choose joy, even when it comes through discomfort. I choose connection—with God, with others, with myself— over empty consumption meant to fill the void. I trust that true peace is found not in escape, but in returning again and again to what matters most. This fast is not about restriction. It is about freedom. I choose what brings lasting joy.

Noise Fasting Rules

Absolutely refrain from:

Mindless scrolling – No browsing YouTube, Instagram, TikTok, or content feeds.

Background noise – No podcasts, music, or videos as ambient distraction.

Solo escapist entertainment – No watching media alone to avoid silence.

Unnecessary news – No current events unless personally relevant or necessary.

Notification spirals – No habitual clicking through unrelated alerts or updates.

Allowed with intention:

Reading – Books or articles that nourish spirit, intellect, or values.

Conversation and connection – Messaging and community are encouraged.

Communal media – Watching shows or films with others in shared presence is permitted.

Reflective or devotional media – Only if: • You pause and set an intention. • It deepens your faith or reflection. • It does not lead to further distraction.

Encouraged practices: • Prayer, meditation, journaling • Silent walks or restful stillness • Sacred reading (Scripture or otherwise) • Artistic or creative expression • In-person connection • Listening for God in the quiet

Daily Reflection Template

Where did I honor my commitment today? (What choices reflected my intention? Where did I stay present?)

Where did I enter the fuzzy middle ground? (What actions felt borderline or unclear? Why?)

Where did I break the fast? (What choices clearly went against my commitment?)

What did I learn today? (About myself, about desire, about God, or about silence?)

What do I want to carry into tomorrow? (A phrase, a truth, an intention, or a feeling?)

Where Are You Gazing?

A Miriam of the Desert Devotional

“Where attention goes, energy flows.”

“I will meditate on your precepts, and fix my eyes on your ways.” — Psalm 119:15 (NRSVUE)

In biblical literature, God teaches a worldview and ethic that inverts the world’s norms. Love your enemies. Refuse violence. Take nothing as your possession. Give up your life to gain it. To meditate on God’s way is to turn your gaze from empire and toward liberation.

“Looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith…” — Hebrews 12:2 (NRSVUE)

Jesus overcame the fear of death with radical hope. He refused to overpower his persecutors with violence. He refused Satan’s illusions of false security. Instead, Jesus endured suffering and death to show us: we don’t need to fear pain. We can fix our eyes on what lies beyond. All will be made new in Christ.

“We look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen…” — 2 Corinthians 4:18 (NRSVUE)

All that surrounds us seems imminent, but it is a façade. The illusion is always crumbling as what we take for granted falls away. And just when it seems like nothing is revealed, as though nothing is left, a new dawn breaks. God’s glory will make us new.

“To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens!” — Psalm 123:1 (NRSVUE)

Many look to the world for protection. Their eyes lift toward idols, pedestals, podiums. But real power lies in the invisible kingdom. It's breaking into our reality right now.

“The eye is the lamp of the body…” — Matthew 6:22 (NRSVUE)

Jesus taught that your eyes reflect your soul. What are you seeking? What do you think is filling your emptiness? What do you believe is making you whole? Give it up. In what remains, you will find where to truly gaze.

“Set your minds on things that are above…” — Colossians 3:1–2 (NRSVUE)

God’s kingdom is not just in the sky. It is breaking down into our world. To witness it, you must lift your eyes. Look above to the Source, who lives in the heavens and walks beside you in the dust.

WHEN THE SYSTEM TURNS ON YOU A Miriam of the Desert Devotional

“Do not fret because of the wicked; do not be envious of wrongdoers, for they will soon fade like the grass and wither like the green herb.” —Psalm 37:1–2 (NRSVUE)

The corrupt build their palaces on sand: Marble lobbies, police cruisers, disciplinary councils, and sanitized violence. But the desert wind does not lie. All of it will crumble.

When harm is dealt from a powerful hand and the system bares its fangs against you for standing in truth—take heart. God has not abandoned you. In fact, this is a sign that you’re safe in God's care. You are not living in the house that’s falling down.

“Learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed…” —Isaiah 1:17

Persecution draws you into the company of those God holds close. The cast-out, crushed, and criminalized. You are not being pulled down but deeper— Deeper into the beating heart of God.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you…” —Matthew 5:11

When the world condemns you for doing justice, rejoice. The blessing of God is resting on your shoulders. You walk with prophets. You walk with Jesus.

“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you…” —Luke 6:27

The brutality of the wilderness is real. But Jesus has already won. Knowing that, we don’t need to mimic the violence of our oppressors. We love anyway.

“Do not repay anyone evil for evil…” —Romans 12:17

The sea crushed the oppressor Pharaoh’s chariots. But it shielded the captives and brought them to safety. Let God bring your enemies to their end. Your work is to keep walking in light.

“When he was abused, he did not return abuse…” —1 Peter 2:23

To follow Jesus is to follow him into suffering; But, in suffering, we also join him in resurrection. On this path, you will be hunted by the powers of death. But you will rise from your grave, victorious in Christ.

Prayer God of the Wilderness, I am crushed by systems too big to fight. When the powers turn against me for standing in truth, Remind me: this pain is not the end. You have already won.

WILDERNESS MOVEMENT A Devotional from Miriam of the Desert “In him we live and move and have our being.” —Acts 17:28

1. Into the Unknown Genesis 12:1 Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” God calls: Go. Leave the systems that taught you to hoard your own safety. Leave the walls that shielded you from your neighbor’s pain. God doesn’t call us into ease, but into trust. This is the wilderness: sacred, vast, and full of risk.

2. Fire by Night Exodus 13:21 The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might travel by day and by night. In the dark, a cloud glows in fire, saying: You are not alone. God doesn’t show the whole route, only the next step. We move by faith, not by certainty. Glory proceeds before us.

3. Stumbling is Sacred Psalm 37:23–24 Our steps are made firm by the Lord, when he delights in our way; though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong, for the Lord holds us by the hand. You will fall. You will weep in the dust and forget who you are. But God will hold your hand. You are not cast out because you collapsed. Failure is part of the journey.

4. When You Forget the Way Isaiah 30:21 And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” Not all wanderings are sacred. Some paths lead to thorns dressed as fruit. But even when you turn aside, the whisper comes: This is the way—walk in it. God's voice is heard in the silence, not in your shame.

5. The Direction Is Justice Micah 6:8 He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God? Walking with God is not a private path of enlightenment. The road to paradise bends toward those whom society has discarded. You cannot be in step with God without taking steps toward the poor. Grace received is grace given.

6. Movement as Mission Matthew 28:19–20 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them... and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. Faith that sits still begins to rot. The Spirit flows outward—always. God’s love is not a bunker, it is a beacon. The world aches for peace you are meant to carry. Go.

7. Everything Returns Acts 17:28 For “In him we live and move and have our being”; as even some of your own poets have said, “For we, too, are his offspring.” You came from Love. And every motion—forward or back—ends there. In God, we live. In God, we move. Even your detours are cradled in holy ground. The desert is not the end. It is the beginning.

A Prayer for Wilderness Movement

O God of wandering and waiting, You called Abram into the unknown and lit a desert path with flame. Teach us to trust your voice.

When we stumble, cradle us. When we forget the way, whisper again. Speak softly through the storm, and deliver us from false security.

Guide our steps toward the poor. Move our feet swiftly to do justice. Unclench our hands, that we may give as freely as we’ve received.

Remind us that our lives are not ours alone. Let your Spirit flow through us with each breath. Send us out with confidence, bold in your mission, radiant in the dark like coals at dusk.

A Devotional by Miriam of the Desert

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” —Ephesians 4:32

They taught us kindness was a soft thing— a smile, a nod, a word said in passing. But the kindness of God is not soft. It is fierce. Unrelenting. Subversive.

The kindness of God fed a widow in famine. It shattered caste systems and called the poor "blessed." It sat down at tables with enemies.

“Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord...” —Proverbs 19:17

Kindness is not weak. It is a weapon against despair. It is the tongue of the wise woman in Proverbs, the path to justice in Micah, and the lifeblood of the Spirit in Galatians.

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good...” “To do justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with your God.” —Micah 6:8

To love kindness is to bleed for those the world forgets. It is to speak gently when slandered, to make room at your table for the rejected. It is to weep when a child dies, and to rejoice when the refugee finds favor.

“For he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.” —Luke 6:35

Kindness will cost you. You will be mocked. But it remains as the thread that holds the holy together. It is the fruit that proves you are deeply rooted in love.

“The righteous must be kind...” —Wisdom of Solomon 12:19

So clothe yourself in kindness, beloved. Let your speech be dipped in it. Let it flow even when it is undeserved. Especially then. Because that is when it most resembles Christ.

Prayer

RESET: A Devotional for the Wilderness

by Miriam of the Desert

Not all revolutions start with noise. Some begin with stillness, with breath, with a reset. This is for the ones scorched by the world. A prayer for those still trying to bloom in the dust.

“See, I am making all things new.”

— Revelation 21:5 (NRSVUE)

We all long for a fresh start. Not surface change, but deep renewal. Biblical literature offers a rhythm of reset. It invites us to release and begin again.

1. Let Go of the Past

“Do not remember the former things... I am about to do a new thing.” — Isaiah 43:18–19

The first step toward reset is letting go. Don’t dwell in regret. Let your heart open to what blooms in the wilderness.

2. Be Cleansed and Restored

“I will sprinkle clean water upon you... A new heart I will give you.” — Ezekiel 36:25–26

God does more than erase the past. God rewrites the heart with newness. Every reset restores your identity, not just your behavior.

3. Return to Center

“Return to me with all your heart... Rend your hearts.” — Joel 2:12–13 “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” — Romans 12:2

Repentance means freedom, not shame. It draws you back to quiet and stillness. Reset is a return to center.

4. Trust the New Day

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases… His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning.” — Lamentations 3:22–23 “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation.” — 2 Corinthians 5:17

God’s love does not run out. Each day begins with new mercy. Reset means waking up into grace. You are being remade right now.

5. Embrace the Reset

“You shall proclaim liberty... You shall return to your family.” — Leviticus 25:10 “God made a wind blow over the earth, and the waters subsided.” — Genesis 8:1

God clears what overwhelms us. The reset is not just personal—it is communal. This is the wind of return, the mercy of release.

Prayer for Reset

God of all things new, I bring my burdens and distractions to You. Help me release what no longer serves me.

Renew my thoughts. Re-center my heart. Reset me to move in step with Your grace.