Does it feel like Advent to you?

Does it feel like Advent to you?

           Although we are in the midst of spring with summer just around the corner, it seems like Advent to me.  Advent is a time of waiting and preparation, of going into an unknown future while placing our trust in God’s guidance.  The promise of Advent is that God is “Emmanuel,” always with us.

            As I prepare for my retirement, my congregation is preparing for a future with a (yet unknown) new minister. After June 16th, my congregation and I will be on separate journeys.  After sharing our lives, work, and worship together for over 36 years, we will be on different paths.  I will venture into retirement and the congregation will continue their ministry with new leadership.  None of us can know what the future holds.  This is always true – but with a particular date in mind, it becomes even more apparent.

We can trust that God is in the midst of all of these changes and offering guidance, strength, and direction. We remember God’s promise that God’s steadfast love endures forever.

            Trying to plan for an unknown future reminds me of anticipating parenthood before any baby was born.  Before I had children, I had lots of ideas (and ideals)  and envisioned myself as a source of wisdom with boundless patience, someone who would offer delicious home cooked meals after afternoons of craft time and outdoor adventures.  The reality, not surprisingly, was somewhat different.  Life was often chaotic. I often lost my patience. There were meals on the table, but Julia Child was not threatened by my cooking skills.

 It all worked out, but it was not what I expected.

We just can’t know ahead of time what challenges await us.  Our paths will take unexpected twists and turns.   The promise of Advent – that season of watching and wondering as we enter the unknown – is that God does not change. God is steadfast even as our world shifts and evolves.  God will be with us wherever the journey leads. 

We will undoubtedly be surprised at what we learn and experience along the way.  We will be invited to try new ways of doing things and to experiment with different ways of being. Step by step and day by day, we are invited to notice how God is weaving in and through our lives.

Along the way we can be intentional about being grateful – notice the blessings that God places in our lives. We can give thanks that God is with us and rejoice that we are not alone on this journey.

Where will we all end up?  Just like Mary and Joseph, we cannot discern the entire path. But also like them, we can look for signs and wonders, we can be open to visitors and strangers who bring us good news of a God who loves us, and we can trust that God is leading us into new ways of serving and celebrating God.  

And through it all, let’s keep one another in our prayers.

It’s hard to wait

Waiting is hard. When I look at our snow-covered yard, I yearn for spring. The daffodils I planted last fall are nowhere in sight. Dirty piles of old snow, mud, and messy puddles seem determined to stay and my desire for spring is not making it arrive any quicker.  We are in that in-between time that only maple syrup producers can love. It’s not quite winter, but it is not yet spring. It is hard to wait.

            So much of life is like that. We want answers, results, clarity. The chemo patient wants to know now if treatments are working. The expectant mother wants assurance that her baby will be healthy and strong. Awkward adolescents want to fast forward to a time when they will fit in. The addict wants proof that rehab will bring health and wholeness.

            Life, unfortunately, looks more like my yard these days – messy and unfinished – rather than a tidy, neatly defined happy ending.

Life is what happens while we’re waiting for results and yearning for completion. The “highlights” of life – graduation, awards, achievement – are just a fraction of our experience. Most of life is lived in the “in-between” times. It’s in the struggle, the waiting, and the effort. While every athlete dreams of crossing the finish line with arms upraised in victory, most of their time is spent in training. Every gardener rejoices in healthy vegetables and blooming flowers, but a lot of weeding and fertilizing came before that glorious result.

While God is certainly present in crowning achievements, I think God lives in the uncertainty of our lives. God is in the waiting room, in the dreary loneliness of grief, in the struggle for another hour of sobriety, in the grinding worry for a loved one, and in the endless tasks of a caregiver.

It’s hard to wait.  We want to get “there.” If we think we will only discover God when we reach the Promised Land of completion, we will miss the God of the journey. We will overlook the one who travels with us not just to green pastures but also through all the dark valleys along the way.

It’s hard to wait.  But we worship a patient God and God will wait with us.