“Here is my servant whom I have chosen,
the one I love, in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
and he will proclaim justice to the nations.
He will not quarrel or cry out;
no one will hear his voice in the streets.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,
till he has brought justice through to victory.
In his name the nations will put their hope.”
- Matthew 12:18-21
Tomorrow is the first Sunday of Advent. "Advent" means that something - or someone - important is coming, and it's the word that the Church uses to describe the season leading up to Christmas day.
Advent is a season of waiting. A season of joy, hope, peace, love, wonder... and a season of waiting - expectantly - for something to happen. It's the pathway - the journey - to Christmas. And with Christmas comes radiant, amazing, overwhelming love - in the form of a baby boy, born in a stable... the very Son of God, laid in a manger: the hope of the world.
For these four weeks of Advent, we wait. We remember. We hope, dream, imagine, wonder, experience the mystery that is the gift of God's Son, born in the city of David: Christ the Lord. We sing special songs. We celebrate. We give gifts that echo, tho they could never compare with, the Gift that we've been given. We light candles, and decorate trees.
And we wait... with great hope. Because the One who came is coming again. He is coming back to rescue us, to save us, to redeem us - and to take us home to live with Him forever.
Advent is by far my favorite season of the year. There's something magical about shifting out of Ordinary Time into Advent. Things are no longer ordinary... something extraordinary is about to happen.
And one of those extraordinary things, this year, could be an even deeper walk with God.
I'd like to invite you to join me over the next few weeks as we dive into God's Word - and this season! - with intentionality and expectation. (We'll be following the daily reading plan found here.) I would love to hear your thoughts as well as share some of my own as we go along.
If you're in, you can read any or all of the Scriptures in the reading plan every day, at any time you choose. They recommend a few psalms in the morning and a couple at night, plus readings from the Old and New Testament and from the Gospels at some point during the day. If it feels overwhelming, just pick one passage a day and stick with that. Don't be legalistic about trying to read everything. Just get in God's Word every day. :) It's the Letter your Rescuer wrote you - and it tells you what to hope for, and in Whom you can always put your hope, being sure that you will not be disappointed. (Isaiah 49:23)
Looking forward to an awesome Advent season!
Grace and peace,
Happy
reposted in part from this post last year
Showing posts with label simple felicity: waiting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label simple felicity: waiting. Show all posts
this season
every year on the first of the year, i take some time to get quiet and listen, to read the Word and pray over my coming year, and ask God what He wants to do in it. i try not to have an agenda - not to spend too much time telling Him what i want out of the year - tho we do talk about that, too - but to really listen. and then i journal about it, so i will remember.
today i was reading through that journal and found this, for 2011:
-------------
"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven."
- Ecclesiastes 3:1
as i read through the verses following this one today, i found myself picking out the times and seasons I'm hoping for this year:
a time to be born. a time to plant. a time to heal. a time to build. a time to laugh. a time to dance. (i'm not so sure about the whole stones thing...) a time to embrace. a time to search. a time to keep. a time to mend. a time to speak. a time to love. a time for peace.
i know we can't pick our seasons. they come to us as God wills them, and we learn and we grow through all of them. but so much of the past two years have been so hard, even in their goodness, and i would so just love a year of Jubilee. a year when debts are cancelled and work is less intense and joy and celebration abound. it would be such a gift.
....
Isaiah 61:
there are so many things in this chapter that resonate with my spirit and give me hope.
the Year of the Lord's favor brings: healing for broken hearts, freedom, release from darkness, vengeance we don't have to take (because God handles it), God's favor, comfort, beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. we go on display, showing God's splendor. things long ruined are repaired. devastation is reversed. we see and experience His faithfulness. we are saved. good things grow.
it is a beautiful season. and i think it is what You are promising me this year.
and so my word for this year is HOPE.
God, You know all the things I am hoping for.
-------------
He does.
it hasn't been QUITE the Year of Jubilee i'd hoped for thus far - but there have been amazing moments in it. new friendships. amazing conversations with some awesome women of God. bursts of sunshine every now and again between cloudy days. today i am counting my blessings - because sometimes we just need to. it's that whole "remembering the deeds of the Lord" thing from Psalm 77 again. the Israelites rehearsed the story of God's faithfulness SO many times - it's told over and over in the Scriptures, especially in the Psalms. "He came and rescued us. we walked across the sea on dry land, but Pharoah's army drowned beneath the waves. the Lord saved us!"
if God can part the sea and make the sun stand still and raise His Son (and a handful of other people too!) from the dead - then He can do anything. everything broken in this world can be set right, in time, somehow.
remembering that today gives me new hope, and makes me happy. :)
Christmastide reflections
It is four o'clock in the morning on the sixth day of Christmas, and I am up - against my will and against my better judgment. I can't sleep, and I can't figure out why - but as I've been sitting here, reading, thinking, trying to get past my frustration, I have realized some things.
Christmas, as I've shared before, has always been my favorite time of year. Even before I truly understood the gift that this holiday is, there was something about the lights and the quietness and the colors and the smells and the hope (even on an ocean coast) of snow - that was simply magical. Mysterious. Right. It was special; it was different; it was something I waited for all year.
I was so hopeful this year that the magic and the mystery would still capture my soul - and it has, in moments, here and there. But the pervading sense of joy and peace and happiness that filled my soul on December 23rd has gotten lost somewhere in the craziness of the past few days. The rest of the world has moved on past Christmas, and to a degree, I feel like I've been moving on right along with it.
But I'm not of that world, and as I've come in the past half hour to realize all the ways in which I've forgotten that this week, I have made a decision. I refuse to be swept by that tide any longer. It is Christmastide yet, and it is only half over. There is still waiting and watching to be done. There is still worship to offer. Praise to bring.
And so here I am, at what is now almost five o'clock in the morning, watching and praying, enjoying the lights on my tree and a cup of chai, and thanking God that He's stopped me in my tracks for this moment. I am, at last, putting down all the things that have distracted me all week, and am instead kneeling in my heart beside a manger, in awe of the tiny, quiet, perfect miracle that was actually the beginning of the greatest thing that has ever happened in the whole world. The very Son of God was born - to us, the Scripture says.
To us. For us. With us.
He was here.
He is here.
...and He is coming back.
In this quiet moment, there is nothing more real or more true, and I am filled with gratitude and wonder.
Merry Christmas, friends.
Christmas, as I've shared before, has always been my favorite time of year. Even before I truly understood the gift that this holiday is, there was something about the lights and the quietness and the colors and the smells and the hope (even on an ocean coast) of snow - that was simply magical. Mysterious. Right. It was special; it was different; it was something I waited for all year.
I was so hopeful this year that the magic and the mystery would still capture my soul - and it has, in moments, here and there. But the pervading sense of joy and peace and happiness that filled my soul on December 23rd has gotten lost somewhere in the craziness of the past few days. The rest of the world has moved on past Christmas, and to a degree, I feel like I've been moving on right along with it.
But I'm not of that world, and as I've come in the past half hour to realize all the ways in which I've forgotten that this week, I have made a decision. I refuse to be swept by that tide any longer. It is Christmastide yet, and it is only half over. There is still waiting and watching to be done. There is still worship to offer. Praise to bring.
And so here I am, at what is now almost five o'clock in the morning, watching and praying, enjoying the lights on my tree and a cup of chai, and thanking God that He's stopped me in my tracks for this moment. I am, at last, putting down all the things that have distracted me all week, and am instead kneeling in my heart beside a manger, in awe of the tiny, quiet, perfect miracle that was actually the beginning of the greatest thing that has ever happened in the whole world. The very Son of God was born - to us, the Scripture says.
To us. For us. With us.
He was here.
He is here.
...and He is coming back.
In this quiet moment, there is nothing more real or more true, and I am filled with gratitude and wonder.
Merry Christmas, friends.
advent: stillness
The verses for our devotional study today are Isaiah 2:3-4. In Verse 2, God says that "He will teach us His ways so that we may walk in His paths." The Message paraphase of this verse says that "He'll show us the way He works so we can live the way we're made."
There's so much security in that, isn't there? We were created to live life God's way, and He's promised to teach us everything we need to know to do that. No more running around, trying to figure out what it is we're supposed to be doing that we're not doing that's leaving us with this empty, unsettled feeling that there's got to be more to life that "this" (whatever it is). It is far more simple than that. All we need to do is follow the directions that He's given/gives/will give us.
But here's the thing about directions: you actually have to listen to them and do what they say for things to go well. I have a set of bookshelves I've put together myself, and let me tell you - the one I didn't read the instructions for is extremely unstable! And life works the same way - if we're going to live it well, there's a set of instructions to follow, and we need to listen to them.
Listening for God's voice takes time, patience and practice. It's possible to read His Word without actually understanding a word of it on the heart level where it's meant to instruct us. It's possible to pray frantically for help in a situation for which we need specific direction and then rush off without waiting for an answer, still trying to figure out what we're supposed to do, on our own.
But God's Word says there's a better way:
"...In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength..." - Isaiah 30:15
We need to get quiet.
Quite some time ago, a good friend of mine picked up the phone and made a reservation for me at a retreat center. I was leading a song at church that weekend, but there was something in the way - something that was blocking my ability to lead it from my heart. And so my friend packed me off to a retreat center for 5 hours, to sit quietly with God, and find from Him the wisdom and instruction I needed.
The first 1/2 hour was painful. I had about eighteen million things I was thinking about other than the task at hand. Getting quiet, internally, seemed like an insurmountable task. But my friend, far more seasoned in this sort of thing than I was, had warned me it would be like that, and I'd taken with me, on his advice, a notebook. Every time something came into my head that could be labelled as a "distraction" (for example: things to add to the grocery list, emails I needed to write, phone calls to make, etc.) - I just wrote it down, so I could deal with it later. And finally, all the head chatter faded, and I moved into silence, and waited.
And He spoke. Through His Word, through the beauty of creation all around me, directly to my heart - and even through the nap I ended up taking that day. And 5 hours later, I was so at peace, and knew what I needed to do to live the way I was made to live, instead of the way I'd been trying to live instead. I'd confessed the sin I needed to, and walked straight out of the barren wilderness of it into the rich, full mercy of God. It was beautiful.
And it began with being still.
Sometimes life can be so overwhelming. It's busy, frantic, fast-paced, and loud. It's tough to hear anything in an environment like that. But if we could just be still...
"The Lord is my light and my salvation - of whom shall I be afraid?.... I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Be strong, and take heart, and wait for the Lord." - Psalm 27:1, 13-14
But how do we do that? How do we "be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord"?
Well, we repent for what we need to. We slow down and rest (even when there's a million things to do, because they will still be there later). We get quiet. We choose to trust Him (no matter what). And we listen. We listen for the Voice that will always speak truth, whose words are life and light to all who hear them, and who promised us that all we see is not all there is.
And we keep on waiting on Him, day after day, because we know, no matter how dark things may seem some days, that there is always hope.
"Do not be afraid, for I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:10-12)
There's so much security in that, isn't there? We were created to live life God's way, and He's promised to teach us everything we need to know to do that. No more running around, trying to figure out what it is we're supposed to be doing that we're not doing that's leaving us with this empty, unsettled feeling that there's got to be more to life that "this" (whatever it is). It is far more simple than that. All we need to do is follow the directions that He's given/gives/will give us.
But here's the thing about directions: you actually have to listen to them and do what they say for things to go well. I have a set of bookshelves I've put together myself, and let me tell you - the one I didn't read the instructions for is extremely unstable! And life works the same way - if we're going to live it well, there's a set of instructions to follow, and we need to listen to them.
Listening for God's voice takes time, patience and practice. It's possible to read His Word without actually understanding a word of it on the heart level where it's meant to instruct us. It's possible to pray frantically for help in a situation for which we need specific direction and then rush off without waiting for an answer, still trying to figure out what we're supposed to do, on our own.
But God's Word says there's a better way:
"...In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength..." - Isaiah 30:15
We need to get quiet.
Quite some time ago, a good friend of mine picked up the phone and made a reservation for me at a retreat center. I was leading a song at church that weekend, but there was something in the way - something that was blocking my ability to lead it from my heart. And so my friend packed me off to a retreat center for 5 hours, to sit quietly with God, and find from Him the wisdom and instruction I needed.
The first 1/2 hour was painful. I had about eighteen million things I was thinking about other than the task at hand. Getting quiet, internally, seemed like an insurmountable task. But my friend, far more seasoned in this sort of thing than I was, had warned me it would be like that, and I'd taken with me, on his advice, a notebook. Every time something came into my head that could be labelled as a "distraction" (for example: things to add to the grocery list, emails I needed to write, phone calls to make, etc.) - I just wrote it down, so I could deal with it later. And finally, all the head chatter faded, and I moved into silence, and waited.
And He spoke. Through His Word, through the beauty of creation all around me, directly to my heart - and even through the nap I ended up taking that day. And 5 hours later, I was so at peace, and knew what I needed to do to live the way I was made to live, instead of the way I'd been trying to live instead. I'd confessed the sin I needed to, and walked straight out of the barren wilderness of it into the rich, full mercy of God. It was beautiful.
And it began with being still.
Sometimes life can be so overwhelming. It's busy, frantic, fast-paced, and loud. It's tough to hear anything in an environment like that. But if we could just be still...
"The Lord is my light and my salvation - of whom shall I be afraid?.... I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Be strong, and take heart, and wait for the Lord." - Psalm 27:1, 13-14
But how do we do that? How do we "be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord"?
Well, we repent for what we need to. We slow down and rest (even when there's a million things to do, because they will still be there later). We get quiet. We choose to trust Him (no matter what). And we listen. We listen for the Voice that will always speak truth, whose words are life and light to all who hear them, and who promised us that all we see is not all there is.
And we keep on waiting on Him, day after day, because we know, no matter how dark things may seem some days, that there is always hope.
"Do not be afraid, for I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:10-12)
waiting. quietly, but with great joy...
It's almost here!
Tomorrow is the first day of Advent, and I have been waiting for this moment for almost two months. No, actually, more like eleven and a half months.... I love Advent.
Some of my best childhood memories are centered around Advent. Decorating the banisters of our New England church sanctuary with real evergreens and red ribbons and candles and a Christmas tree so tall you could barely see the top from the floor. Replacing the green banners of Ordinary Time on the pulpit with the rich purple hues of Advent. Taking a break for soup and crackers with the church family, and eating out of the church's fine china dishes. (Washing and drying all those dishes after lunch!) Making wreaths to take home and hang on our doors. Waking up every morning to open the next little door on the Advent calendar that hung on the cabinet in the kitchen. Watching the colored lights twinkle in our tree. Setting up the Nativity scene on the bookshelf. Putting out our Christmas decorations. Listening to Kenny and Dolly and Amy Grant and Alabama and Bing Crosby and Manheim Steamroller and countless others sing Christmas carols, back in the days when we had actual records and cassette tapes. Wrapping Christmas presents. Popping popcorn and watching Christmas movies. Lighting a candle every Sunday on the altar at church, marking one more theme celebrated, one week closer to Christmas. Wondering why the third candle is pink.
And FINALLY - Christmas Eve. Dressing up, leaving home in the dark. Caroling outside the church for an hour before service for the people passing by and coming to church. Caroling some more indoors. The beauty of the Christmas story read aloud. Hearing a soloist sing "O Holy Night" and hoping that someday I'd get to sing it (one day, finally, I did). Lighting the Christ candle, and then passing the light of Christ's love from candle to candle through our historic church sanctuary and singing Silent Night together acapella. Watching the familiar faces of friends and family shine with the mystery and beauty of it all as we ended our service in quietness, peace, and candlelit wonder.
And now that I'm older, this season has become even more special than the magical memories it held in my childhood. For now I understand, in a way I didn't then, what this season is really all about.
Advent is a season of waiting. A season of joy, hope, peace, love, wonder - and waiting, expectantly, for something to happen. It's the pathway, the journey to Christmas. And with Christmas, comes radiant, amazing, overwhelming love - in the form of a baby boy, born in a stable. The very Son of God, laid in a manger, here to experience all that we do - and to make a way back to God for us.
God waited a long time to send His Son. He waited for the perfect moment. But while He was waiting, He did some things. He wrote it in the stars, that this baby was coming. Remember the Magi, following that star? Think about the fact that light takes time to travel, and that what you see in the sky is actually something that happened a really, really, REALLY long time ago - and think for a moment: God put a star in the heavens that would point the way to His Son AGES before His Son would be born. Does the wonder of it floor you, even just a little bit? He also promised us that a Saviour would come - His prophets foretold His coming, and His people waited, too. And then, finally - He came. And He is coming again.
For these four weeks of Advent we wait. We remember. We hope, dream, imagine, wonder, experience the mystery that is the gift of God's Son, born in the city of David: Christ the Lord. We sing special songs - songs we sing once a year. We celebrate. We give gifts that echo, tho they could never compare with, the Gift that we've been given. We light candles.
We wait. Quietly, but with great joy.
Last year for Advent, my friend Amanda and I did a devotional study together with a book and a website called The Uncluttered Heart, by Beth A. Richardson. We loved it so much that we've invited our church family to go through it with us this year. Nineteen people have signed up so far! We are super-excited about this. :)
And if you want to join us, we'd love that, too. The Uncluttered Heart website has all the info you need to get started.
Hope to see you there!
and Happy Advent-Eve. :)
Tomorrow is the first day of Advent, and I have been waiting for this moment for almost two months. No, actually, more like eleven and a half months.... I love Advent.
Some of my best childhood memories are centered around Advent. Decorating the banisters of our New England church sanctuary with real evergreens and red ribbons and candles and a Christmas tree so tall you could barely see the top from the floor. Replacing the green banners of Ordinary Time on the pulpit with the rich purple hues of Advent. Taking a break for soup and crackers with the church family, and eating out of the church's fine china dishes. (Washing and drying all those dishes after lunch!) Making wreaths to take home and hang on our doors. Waking up every morning to open the next little door on the Advent calendar that hung on the cabinet in the kitchen. Watching the colored lights twinkle in our tree. Setting up the Nativity scene on the bookshelf. Putting out our Christmas decorations. Listening to Kenny and Dolly and Amy Grant and Alabama and Bing Crosby and Manheim Steamroller and countless others sing Christmas carols, back in the days when we had actual records and cassette tapes. Wrapping Christmas presents. Popping popcorn and watching Christmas movies. Lighting a candle every Sunday on the altar at church, marking one more theme celebrated, one week closer to Christmas. Wondering why the third candle is pink.
And FINALLY - Christmas Eve. Dressing up, leaving home in the dark. Caroling outside the church for an hour before service for the people passing by and coming to church. Caroling some more indoors. The beauty of the Christmas story read aloud. Hearing a soloist sing "O Holy Night" and hoping that someday I'd get to sing it (one day, finally, I did). Lighting the Christ candle, and then passing the light of Christ's love from candle to candle through our historic church sanctuary and singing Silent Night together acapella. Watching the familiar faces of friends and family shine with the mystery and beauty of it all as we ended our service in quietness, peace, and candlelit wonder.
And now that I'm older, this season has become even more special than the magical memories it held in my childhood. For now I understand, in a way I didn't then, what this season is really all about.
Advent is a season of waiting. A season of joy, hope, peace, love, wonder - and waiting, expectantly, for something to happen. It's the pathway, the journey to Christmas. And with Christmas, comes radiant, amazing, overwhelming love - in the form of a baby boy, born in a stable. The very Son of God, laid in a manger, here to experience all that we do - and to make a way back to God for us.
God waited a long time to send His Son. He waited for the perfect moment. But while He was waiting, He did some things. He wrote it in the stars, that this baby was coming. Remember the Magi, following that star? Think about the fact that light takes time to travel, and that what you see in the sky is actually something that happened a really, really, REALLY long time ago - and think for a moment: God put a star in the heavens that would point the way to His Son AGES before His Son would be born. Does the wonder of it floor you, even just a little bit? He also promised us that a Saviour would come - His prophets foretold His coming, and His people waited, too. And then, finally - He came. And He is coming again.
For these four weeks of Advent we wait. We remember. We hope, dream, imagine, wonder, experience the mystery that is the gift of God's Son, born in the city of David: Christ the Lord. We sing special songs - songs we sing once a year. We celebrate. We give gifts that echo, tho they could never compare with, the Gift that we've been given. We light candles.
We wait. Quietly, but with great joy.
Last year for Advent, my friend Amanda and I did a devotional study together with a book and a website called The Uncluttered Heart, by Beth A. Richardson. We loved it so much that we've invited our church family to go through it with us this year. Nineteen people have signed up so far! We are super-excited about this. :)
And if you want to join us, we'd love that, too. The Uncluttered Heart website has all the info you need to get started.
Hope to see you there!
and Happy Advent-Eve. :)
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