He said: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as Isaiah the prophet said.” // John 1:23

My breathing begins to quicken and I start to feel the pounding of my pulse in my head. Thump thump. Thump thump. It has been a while since my last panic attack, but I know the tell tale signs. Chest tightening, thoughts racing, body trembling.

Just breathe, I remind myself. Find something to focus on and slow down.

I search for an object in the room to set my attention on. Nothing in particular. Just a solid object I can keep my sight on as I work through the waves of anxiety.

You are okay. You are not alone. You are loved, I repeat, settling into a slower rhythm of breaths that I hope will remain steady and pull me out of the attack before my mind wanders back into a desert of isolation, ramping things up, forcing me to start the come-down again.

You are okay. You are not alone. You are loved.

The voice begins to change from my own to Another’s. Not a dramatic switch, but a slow, comforting transition as the exhaustion from what has happened begins taking over and my body cries out for rest. I know this voice. It is the One Who is with me in the desert. It is a voice of peace and consolation.

It is the One Who reminds me that I am okay. I am not alone. I am loved.

Saint John the Baptist echoes the words of Isaiah about a voice crying out from the desert to make straight the way of the Lord (see John 1:23). And I can’t help but wonder Who those messengers encountered in both the literal and metaphorical deserts of their lives. For Who else could meet us in our isolation? Who else could speak the truth over us and inspire us to share our encounter with one another in efforts to prepare the way for Him?

So sister, today I invite you, whether in the desert or not, to stop and listen. Perhaps you will recognize the voice inviting you to prepare the way of the Lord. How will you respond?