I've always had the faith to trust God for the big things, but it's the small things day-to-day things that irk me. Hoping that the babysitter will be able to make it this week. Praying that Ellis won't totally embarrass me in public (oh, could I tell you stories!). That my morning plans won't be ruined by the rain. That we can get out of the door without a meltdown. In a season of small but significant changes, where there are so many minor details to plan for and, naturally for me, worry about, my spirit has been heavy. And rather than trust in God, or take a deep breath at the very least, what I have been wanting to do is...wallow in the heaviness. One would hope that a delightfully optimistic and delicious holiday such as Thanksgiving could give my unsettled heart a break, at least for the day. But apparently my ever-present-houseguest worry did not get the memo.
I don't like to have to struggle for joy or cheerful thanksgiving. I would rather to default to it, especially at this time of year. The holidays are a wonderful season to practice the spiritual discipline of celebration, and there's nothing like some hot cocoa, a nice smelling candle, and a cookie exchange to make my days merry and bright. But as Thanksgiving has come and gone, my heart has been less than thrilled looking ahead. I have to get out the Christmas decorations (the horrors!) and the Christmas cards need to be written and sent off in short order. Dear readers, I love decorating! I love writing Christmas cards! and I don't even mind going to the post office because Ellis loves to chase the chickens and the turkeys. Perhaps this is what led to a light-bulb moment. Not very profound, but profoundly powerful.
I don't have to do what my feelings tell me.
Perhaps most girls learn that lesson early on in life. I'm just beginning to learn it in my 30s. Someone once wrote that the most powerful influence in your life is you. My own internal dialogue sways me more than any other person. Talk truth to myself and the outflow will pour out from what I believe. I haven't quoted a hymn here in a really long time, but wanted to share what I recently read was prolific-song-writer Fanny Crosby's favorite hymn - called O Love That Will Not Let Me Go, by George Matheson. The first three verses go like this:
- O Love that will not let me go,I rest my weary soul in thee;I give thee back the life I owe,That in thine ocean depths its flowMay richer, fuller be.
- O Light that foll’west all my way,I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;My heart restores its borrowed ray,That in thy sunshine’s blaze its dayMay brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
we are never alone or abandoned
The wor
ld is not as just, not as loving, not as whole as we know it can and should be. But
the coming of Christ and his presence among us
—
as one of us
—
give us reason to live in hope:
that light will shatter the darkness, that we can be liberated from our fears an
d prejudices, that
we are never alone or abandoned
The wor
ld is not as just, not as loving, not as whole as we know it can and should be. But
the coming of Christ and his presence among us
—
as one of us
—
give us reason to live in hope:
that light will shatter the darkness, that we can be liberated from our fears an
d prejudices, that
we are never alone or abandoned
The beautiful thing about Advent is that we can practice it whether we feel like it or not. To paraphrase Tim Keller: Christmas is not sentimental - it does not ask us to "Cheer up!" Advent unites our own grief and longing with our hope and longing for Jesus. Because the reality is that Jesus did come, whether we felt like it or not. And I think it needs to be said that He chose to come into this broken mess that the whole world seems to be grieving for right now. Into my mess. He didn't wait until you or I conveniently had our nations, our families, or our lives in order. Perhaps this is my greatest gift this year- that Advent - and the Christmas season - isn't about how I feel but what I know. So pay attention. Wait in the rain and watch for rainbows. Give thanks no matter what. Wait for the birth of Jesus Christ in Bethlehem and wait with all creation for the second coming of Jesus, who will wipe every tear from every eye, heal every brokenness and redeem all things. And this is what gives us reason to hope: that light will shatter the darkness. That perfect love casts out fear. That He is greater than our hearts and will never leave us or forsake us.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin, where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in. -O Little Town of Bethlehem
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