I am in an Advent state of mind. I'm in a season of waiting, a season of longing, a season of wondering when Jesus will show up. One of my most loved Christmas songs has always been "O Come O Come Emmanuel" and I have been resonating with it these past weeks.
O come, O come, EmmanuelI feel alone as I mourn my old faith - a faith that was more certain, more well-defined, more at home in the church. I feel captive to my uncertainty as I wait on my new faith to take shape and grow roots. I have been waiting for Jesus and looking for him, fearing that he might never appear in the ways he used to.
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
At the entrance to my work, there is an agency sign sheltered by a tall peaked wooden structure. To decorate for Christmas, a large star was placed on top of the shelter, making it reminiscent of a manger. Over the past month, I have been mindful of this symbol every morning when I drive into work - pointing me to where Jesus can be found. The God of the broken-hearted is with the struggling kids I work with. When I join with them, I find Jesus.
In places and situations that cause me to wonder where God is, I am privileged to be able to make him apparent as I bring my own compassion, humour and help. I've found that God feels nearer when I am thankful. I have many things to be thankful for.
My hope for myself and for you is that this will be a season in which we can hold the tension between longing and expectant rejoicing. A season in which we can hope for something greater, take delight in the good in our lives, and bring blessing to the lives of others.
|1.||to be glad; take delight (often fol. by in): to rejoice in another's |
|2.||to make joyful; gladden: a song to rejoice the heart.|