Advent Waiting

I have my own personal mountain to move. As any who have lived in full time ministry will understand, the past few years have been full and exhausting, and the past few months have brought much change to our life. Change that was good and necessary and relieving. But as with any change, challenges have arisen... financial challenges, the challenge of uncertainty, the fluctuating schedule, the stress of transition. Add these to the challenges already facing the parents of 4 children under 6 (kids who think sleep is for the weak) and it is no wonder that my husband and I feel drained, used up, and desperate for rest, for shalom. 

I am struggling. Struggling to engage in this life I have gotten myself into. Struggling to wake up every morning and face the challenges that every single day holds. Struggling to find joy and peace. And in this season of Advent and waiting, I find that I have been waiting the wrong way. I have been waiting as a spectator, asking God to move and waiting for Him to change me and my heart and my perspective. In my waiting I continue to struggle and suffer because I am afraid.

I forgot that one does not always wait as a spectator. That Mary and Joseph as they waited were not sitting down, digging in their heels, and refusing to go to Bethlehem. There was Mary, eight months pregnant and sometimes riding their little donkey, scared, away from her family and her mother, and about to face labor on her own. But she did not stop, she pressed on. Some may say she had no choice, but we always have a choice. She could have said no to the angel at the very thought of bearing a child. But she did not; she did not quiver in fear. She said of God, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant." She recognized that God is the God who sees and that He had seen her. She married Joseph, and they went to Bethlehem expecting, along with the whole world, the kingdom of God. 

Yet, here I am. Burnt out from my life. Tired of whiny kids and people with their problems. Tired of dishes and laundry and mops. Tired tired tired. And I ask God for rest, but one cannot rest in the middle of children. I ask God for peace, but there is no peace among toddlers. So I find myself asking God for joy, because even among loose teeth and first words and dancing and building towers and putting together puzzles - even there I have trouble finding true joy. I have trouble engaging when I have so many tugging at me with demands and so little self to give. I forget that God sees.

This post resonated with me, challenging me to move one stone at a time, until I find I have moved this mountain that blocks my path to joy. I must not wait silently and quietly for a change. I must make change. I must do the things I KNOW would make my attitude better. I must not cower in fear like Queen Elsa in her ice castle afraid of the damage she will do to the outside, unaware of the damage her isolation is doing... Afraid to take responsibility for fear of hurting people, unwilling to do the hard work of undoing what she has done. I must, I MUST recognize the good I CAN do. I must remember that God sees me and values me and knows my heart struggle. I must make small changes and face the challenges. I must stand up and participate in this life. I must be a spectator no more. I must engage. 

By doing that, with God's help lifting one small stone at a time, I will move my mountain. I will struggle through this advent season like the precious scared mother Mary struggled through the last days of her pregnancy, moving forward, trusting that God will bring the change He has promised. I will work in confidence that He will bring peace on earth and in my heart. That the kingdom will shine in my life as it did the night of its arrival here on earth. And with all of creation, I will rejoice. 

"Let every heart prepare Him room and heaven and nature sing." 

"And they took the babe and wrapped him in a stocking and laid him beneath their Christmas tree."