Advent Waiting

It seems I can't escape the waiting. I'm starting to wonder if it's time to move or time to keep waiting.

Right now it's Advent - the beginning of the church year - and a time defined by waiting. Waiting for the birth of the Christ child. Waiting for the Son of God to join us here on Earth. Waiting for redemption and the fulfillment of millenniums of hope.

The church I attend keeps talking about active waiting. This isn't just sitting and seeing what will happen but being diligent in our relationship with God, getting to know Him better while pursuing life to the best of our ability in the midst of uncertainty, with expectation.

I like the concept very much and try to do it. But there are days, kind of like today, where that is a tall order. Sometimes the wait overwhelms me and I feel paralyzed.

We know Zechariah felt like that. He had waited his whole life for a child but was getting old. Then, one day, God came and spoke to him. His barrenness (actually Elizabeth's) would end and life would come to their family. Not only would they have a son, but he would be highly regarded and prepare people for the coming of the Lord. When Zechariah doubted the angel, he lost his voice until he was able to name the child.

Another person waiting for a miracle was Simeon. He was told he would see the Messiah before he died. He went to the temple one day and saw the child, Jesus. He knew this was the one.

"Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel." (Luke 1:29-32)

And finally Anna, the prophet, was waiting too. She was a widow who worshipped at the temple day and night. As soon as she saw the Christ child, she shared with others that redemption had come to Israel.

All of these characters in the story of God's incarnation were waiting. They were waiting to see what God was going to do in their lives and what God was going to do in their community. The continued in their daily lives, doing what they always did, but then God intersected their stories and their lives were changed. All there characters encounted a life changing event - having a baby, Simeon blessed Him, and Anna started to share the good news! My hunch is that nothing was the same after this encounter. That life was different.

I know in my life that day is coming. Whatever it is going to look like, what God hopes to do with me, will be revealed and there will be no question about what is going on.

So may Advent be a season of waiting - for Christ for come - for God to guide and direct my heart.

We wait, dear Jesus, we wait.

Song of the Moment

Songs have a tendency to speak into a place in my life. I stick with one song (sometimes an album) that just won't let go for months. For instance, during my last months at seminary I was stuck on TobyMac, Portable Sounds. It accompanied me everywhere.

There have been a few since then. Most recently it was "Whatever You're Doing (Something Heavenly)" by Sanctus Real.

But a new song is now running through my brain at regular intervals. It is off the new Jars of Clay album, The Long Fall Back to Earth. The song is "Don't Stop". A big part of it is the melody. It is so catchy, it's hard not to enjoy it. The rift at the beginning and end is especially singable. However, the message of the song speaks into the fragility of life right now. We have to hold onto belief even when it gets difficult.

"Don't Stop" - Jars of Clay
You told them that I hung the moon
It was a lonely sliver hanging from the sky
I said I put it there for you
I didn't think that it would make you cry

Don't stop, don't stop for me now
don't stop, don't stop for me now

My recurring dream of you
Starlight in your eyes and music everywhere
I am dancing close to you
There are no days or nights we've left behind

Don't stop, don't stop for me now
don't stop, don't stop for me now
When you're running, you're running far away
And you don't know what to do with all my love
don't stop for me now

Why is it so hard to say that you need me
The way that I need you

There are no days, there are no nights,
we've left them all behind
And you can run so far that I won't reach
There are no places I won't find you

Don't stop, don't stop for me now
don't stop, don't stop for me now
You keep running, yeah you're running far away
When all I want to do is be with you my love
You can run so far, run so far, my love
By the light of the moon

I will get to you somehow
So don't stop for me now


Thank you God that you are always there, that you chase us in the darkness, grab our hand, and bring us through.

Coffee Dreams and Puzzle Pieces

There are events in life that leave you wondering what to say. But this time, well, I just don't know what to say.

The last 8 months have been very difficult; so many events colliding to create the perfect storm of failure and hopelessness. In the last few months a ray of hope had started to peek out. A sign of something wonderful was starting to appear. I chased after it. I dreamed a dream. I hoped for a future.

And I just woke up, jarred from good sleep, grasping at the dream - hoping for a piece of it - as it slips through my fingers like mist on humid cool day. It was in reach, I could taste it and see it, and I could envision a future of growth and freedom. But now it has faded away. Nothing is left. It is gone.

What do you do when this happens? You can’t go back to where you were; it doesn’t exist anymore. You can’t live out of the past or you fail to move forward. You can’t just sit there or life will move along and you will wake up one day wondering where the time went. There is no opt-out, not as long as we want to live. Not living is not an option.

I think I’m still numb. I’ve cried a little. I have felt pain, but mostly I am just trying to fill my days and not make any rash decisions. Every once in a while the dream reappears like a whiff of coffee beans freshly ground as you sit and read a book. It is gone as soon as it appears. But for that moment, it is as fresh and full bodied as the first time you conceived of it.

But just as the coffee blends into the air conditioning, the dream fades as failure reasserts itself as reality. And maybe failure is too strong. I had done my best; I wouldn’t go back and change anything. In the end, I wasn't a good fit.

I feel like the puzzle piece that never fits until the very end. It seems to fit in a certain place in the picture – the patterns seem right and the sizing seems right initially but then as you examine it more closely you see that the flowers don’t match and the contours of the pieces aren’t cut from the same place. In the end, you remove the piece and keep seeking the right one. The thing is, right now, I’m the piece that has been set aside. The puzzle is still being worked on, but there is no way to know whether it is almost finished or if it was just getting started. There is a place where the piece will fit, but from this perspective, I have no idea when or where that will be.

And so, I have to wait. I have to remember my purpose and what I was made for, I have to remain available to be moved and put into the picture, but I have to maintain who I am and not let that get lost in the process. Waiting. That’s what it comes down to. Waiting not only to dream a new dream but to live out the dream when it becomes reality. But for now, I’ll just wait.

Christ is Risen!

He is Risen, Indeed!

Good Friday in the Black

Today is Good Friday. You probably knew that.

If you didn't, Good Friday is the day that we remember the death of Jesus Christ, earthly son of Mary and raised by a carpenter named Joseph. Heavenly Son of God in human flesh.

He was fully God and fully man. Completely integrated. A human and divine sacrifice meant to absolve for sin and bring us into communion with God. He chose to die. I believe He could have walked away if he wanted to, but had the ability to choose, just as we have the ability to choose whether or not to follow God.

This Lenten season I have tried to remind myself to focus on what God did for us during this time. Especially this Holy Week, I have tried to remember daily what was going on in His life. Yesterday we held a Seder, as we believe he would have been doing, when he instituted Communion. Today we will experience darkness as we extinguish candles in a darkened church. Tomorrow we will life in tension as we wait for the dawn of the resurrection. Sunday we will preach the good news - He is Risen! Risen Indeed!

I had help remembering this week. I made bracelets last Friday with my 7th and 8th grade students at a ministry I work at; flashy, girly things with glittering jewels and mirror crosses. They are nothing like the pain endured this week by the Christ. But shiny and bold enough to remind me that people can see them, and wonder. It is my job to tell them what it means.

So let me make sure to tell you. God loved you so much that he gave himself up for you that you might be able to find Him. That He wanted you to see Him is something unquestionable. He wanted you to know that He loves you. He wants you to know that He is there, waiting for you, if you just ask.

Maybe you find the Christ story confusing. Maybe it doesn't all make sense. And I would agree - it doesn't all make sense sometimes. But I can testify to this - my life would be undone without Him in it. I simply can't imagine it any other way.

Come experience His ridiculous beautiful love. He's waiting for you.

Off color

I think I have lost track of what color the background should be. Maybe that reflects the rest of my life. I seem to have lost track of what I'm supposed to be doing. That might have something to do with the fact that I'm unemployed in this economy, that long sought after goals may have to be interrupted - again, and that there seems to be no direction coming from anywhere on any front.

I try to get excited with people about good things in life but find I am just unable. Maybe the devil has succeeded in stealing my joy or maybe I just threw it off the top of a mountain while in New Mexico. Either way, it is not very present at the moment.

Does that make me less of a believer? That I can't fake joy when everything is falling apart? Life sucks right now. That is a technical and theological term that defines the paradigm of my life right now. I think I currently reside in Job chapter 23, though I need to see if I'm progressing forward or backward through the book right now. Seriously, I have no idea.

And strangely, through all of this, it is not God's existence or care that I doubt; I just wish He would return from vacation in the near future. I know He holds the future, I just wish I could tell He was holding me right now. All the little trite statements we use for comfort fall on my ears like the taste of ashes in my parched mouth.

Yes, I still believe, but please, don't try to make me say more than that. That is where I'm at right now - waiting for Him to move.

Entering Advent

We are now entering Advent (or more plainly - we are in Advent). Sometimes entering takes more than the change of a day.

The trip went better than expected though heartache and joy are inextricably weaved together here. The loss of a loved one, the inability to discuss it, the pain of a damaged marriage and a child hanging in the balance. All those things are difficult to deal with and color the ability to enjoy without reservation.

I am thankful for a lack of conflict, for safe travel and for seeing those that are far away. I am thankful that life goes on in the midst of hard times. I'm not trying to be dreary, just trying to keep going and keep focused on the hope that a baby in a manger brings to us all.

The absolute best contemporary expression of this for me is found in RelientK and the song "I Celebrate the Day"

"And the first time
That You opened Your eyes did You realize that You would be my Savior
And the first breath that left Your lips
Did You know that it would change this world forever"

What a vivid picture of the impact of the incarnation on the world. That God coming would change our existence forever. That in the midst of where life goes there is hope for the future and for the kingdom of God to live on earth, among the believers.

When I heard that song last year, I resonated with the first verse:

"And with this Christmas wish is missed
The point I could convey
If only I could find the words to say to let You know how much You've touched my life
Because here is where You're finding me, in the exact same place as New Year's eve
And from a lack of my persistency
We're less than half as close as I want to be"

Last year I felt I was in the same place. I can not say that now. In fact, I probably wished last year that things would change. Be careful what you wish for.

This year I stand in turmoil on so many fronts. The babe in the manger is all that I have. All other things have been stripped away. Material security, purpose and direction, assurance - it's all morphed or moved to the point that it is hard to identify where the path lies and what the future holds.

So, if you can identify, stand with me before the manger. Enjoy the tiny eyelashes and mini digits that surround the finger of the mother. Gaze at the look on Joseph's face as he takes in the picture of his newborn son as tears roll down his cheeks into his beard. Believe in the angel that hangs in the night sky outside. Know that God is near. He is here. He is with us.