A few weeks ago, we visited a local botanic garden to walk through their festive Christmas lights display. As usual, I took my phone to take as many pictures as I could to save the memories of our evening. In the car, IronMan and I were talking about how pretty the lights were, and he asked me, "Did you see the tree with the broken branch that was wrapped in lights and hanging on?" I didn't recall the tree, so I decided to look through the pictures on my phone. Sure enough, there it was, a beautiful little tree carefully wrapped in colored lights. The broken branch was hanging down, but still attached securely by the strand of lights. As I started to think about what I wanted to share for the final Sunday of Advent, this sweet tree came to mind. The storms of life come, don't they? We all have storms in some form or another. Some are more quiet and easily survivable, but some are debilitating. Some storms might have fierce winds, hail, pounding rain, and tornadoes. Some storms pass quickly, but some might break you to the point of feeling like you are beyond repair. Some storms keep coming and coming.
Some type of storm came against this little tree at the botanic gardens and completely broke one of its branches. Fortunately, the branch was attached by the light. We, as believers, are attached by the Light, and His Light is LOVE. Any storm that comes against us (maybe there is a storm in your life that you created- we are all human after all), the Light of Love will never, ever let you go. You are wrapped in love and held tight. Even if you don't necessarily feel it, no matter what your circumstance (No! Matter! What!), His love secures you. I won't take time right now to list specific circumstances, but we all know and experience different types of grief, pain, loss, doubt, and trauma. Please just know that if you feel broken and abused by life right now, the Light of Love came against darkness, yours, mine, and all the world's, and holds us fast to His heart. He gave everything to secure us in that Love. Remember that, dear hearts, this Christmas, and may the peace of that truth be the Light by which you are held.
"Your God is present among you, a strong Warrior there to save you. Happy to have you back, He'll calm you with His love and delight you with His songs." Zephaniah 3:17
All is grace...always,
Shanda
When I shared my thoughts two weeks ago about waiting and advent, I didn't intend to write weekly for this Advent season, but with all of these swirling thoughts, I thought I might put them into words if time afforded me to do so. I knew the theme for Advent today was joy, so I have been ruminating about joy all week. For me, joy has felt elusive. Permeating, deep down in the soul-bones joy has evaded me continually. The moments when I thought there was a breath, and I could hope to let joy sink in, something has always come along to rob me from really feeling it. From my earliest memory on, there have been consistent difficulties (at times tragic) in my life. Please don't misunderstand. There are many, MANY blessings in my life and I am sincerely grateful for each and every one of them, but the hard has still been hard. It's been a long journey, but I have learned a few things along the way, and I am learning still. In the process of growing up and growing older, joy is one of the things I have misconceived and still seek to understand and experience.
Joy is not dependent upon your life circumstances, the ease of your daily life, your good (or poor) health, who you know, who you are, or what you do for a living. Joy is not dependent on the home you own or the shack you rent. Joy is not dependent on the daily grief you carry, the successes you have, the failures that haunt, the freedoms you possess, or the influence you have. AS A BELIEVER, the source of your joy is founded in Jesus- not what He has or has not blessed you with here on this earth, but in the deep knowing that you are His, you are held, you are loved, and you are SAVED, because years and years ago, God saw fit, in a way we could never humanly explain or understand, to be born right into flesh, into our broken humanity- this holy, ordinary, messy, sorrow-filled, yet beautiful world. I think as human beings we struggle with the emotional aspect of joy. Sure, it can be a feeling, but I think deep-down joy is more. David, the man after God's own heart, struggled with feeling like he'd lost his deep joy. He asked God to return the joy of his salvation. And isn't that really what Jesus, our Emmanuel-God-with-us, came to do? Save us? I think I've had joy wrong all along. I have longed to feel an underlying happy feeling. Life has shaken my always-glass-half-full outlook up harder than I ever knew possible, and I wish I could get a little bit of my naivete' back. I want to feel joy in every facet, or at least hope that is something that is possible. But I don't think this is a reality. I think the truth is that sorrow and joy mingle, and deep joy is something that is both simple and difficult. The bottom line might just be that true joy is as simple as Heaven. Jesus came. We believe. We are graced. We are saved. I think I get so bogged down in all of my daily concerns that I lose sight of this very simple truth, this truth where joy should originate. Paul was tortured and imprisoned, yet he could still sing. He knew there was something more, and he was connected to it. I have lost sight of that something more in the daily grind. Like David, I am asking for the joy of my salvation to be returned to me. I used to have so much awe and wonder about God in my younger days, and that was sweet and beautiful. Now that I am older, and life has been so...well... life-y, I think I am coming to realize there is maturity beyond the wonder. Maybe joy is a choice, after all? Will I choose today to be grateful that a savior came to lavish me with his love and grace to create a bridge to a place I could never travel on my own? Will I let joy permeate my soul because of that truth? Will I let that be the very foundation of my joy and let it have nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with my earthly circumstance? You see, I think ADVENT JOY is a spiritual condition of joy, not a circumstantial condition of joy. It is in that truth where I want to find my source of wonder.
"But the angel reassured them. "Dont' be afraid!" he said. "I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people." Luke 2:10
All is grace...always,
Shanda
If you follow along with Advent, you will be aware that today is the second Sunday of Advent. In practical terms, last week's Advent focus was on HOPE, and this week's focus is on PEACE. I shared a few of my heart stirrings in a blog piece last week, mostly about faith and hanging on even when life slams you, and to encourage you to try to believe that hope could and would spark, because your story and my story is not yet fully written. Hope... when it's hard. Faith... hold fast.
This coming week, our family will remember my husband's beloved, beautiful mother. Tuesday, December 11th will mark the twenty year anniversary of Mom being ripped from our family on an icy Indiana highway exactly two weeks before Christmas. I have been thinking a lot about peace this week in regard to losing her. We did a much better job of grasping peace twenty years ago, fully surrendering to God's will, even the valley of the shadow of death. The truth is, her death was the catalyst that set into motion a twenty year battle of aching hard after aching hard, and the absence of her wisdom, steady presence, and quite frankly, her over-the-top crazy love for us through the soul-hard journey we have walked has left a wound I doubt will ever fully heal. Death and grief are tricky beasts to manage, and compounded grief is an even more complicated mystery. We go on because we have to. What choice is there? But there is a big difference between moving forward in obligation, and moving forward in thriving life and living. Peace can permeate in the midst of both.
"Because of God's tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace." (Luke 1:78-79 NLT)
Light in the darkness... Light that will be a guide to the path of peace. Peace about the big things is sometimes easier than experiencing peace in the daily grit of life. We have less control over the big things, and oddly, they can sometimes be easier to surrender. Peace in the dailies that we have much more opportunity to humanly muck up can be tough. My hope for us all is to sense the tangible presence of God with us right here, right now in the midst of the ins and outs, no-matter-what grace, and to experience His peace right along with it. Somehow. Some way. PEACE. There are blushes of it here and there, but peace for me is usually a bit of a roller-coaster. I try to breathe deep. Pray a whole lot. Read as much as I can. Talk it through with those who are a part of my inner world. In my broken-best, peace. Surrender, trust, and hope, no matter how fragile they are, bring a measure of it, and it is that measure I hang on to as I wait, and keep waiting. There will never be pat answers from me here in this space, but another humble soul hammering out her faith journey, perhaps a little too loudly for some, but shouting so others that feel alone know they are not. Life is not a tidy package all wrapped up in a neat little bow. Some would have you think that, but it isn't. It's a humble, glorious, broken, pain-filled, joy-filled, honest, breathtakingly beautiful mess. Peace, dear ones. Jesus came when the world needed it most. Hope in a manger and hope in my heart...and yours. Doesn't that hope bring a little peace along with it, even if there are no answers for our hardest things? Right here believing with you. Hope. Peace. Advent waiting. Trusting, and honoring the best that I can.
Always grace...always,
Shanda
Advent is defined as "the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event." Within church culture, we specifically view the four Sundays before Christmas as Advent. We count down with remembrance and thanksgiving (sometimes with prayer and fasting) for the gift given to all humanity in the person, Jesus Christ. Simply put, He came to save us. The HUGE forever kind of saving was born in the home of humble farm beasts, became God with skin on, and grew up to be... God with us. I must confess that some days, it's easier for me to grasp the great-big-forever-kind of saving from God than the God-with-us saving in the midst of the grit of my own humble life. Big saving? Yes! Daily with-me saving? I am trying.
I have been working hard to prepare our home for the upcoming holidays. Candy canes and twinkle lights adorn our old-fashioned Christmas tree, garland is draped from the banister, and the old antique sled with silver runners, glowing wreath, and worn-out ice-skates is propped on our porch to welcome guests. We have been playing our favorite Christmas songs to bring a festive atmosphere to our days. The other day, my daughter accidentally let a song "slip in" that we usually try to save for just before Christmas, but it gave me pause. Seven simple words sung by a children's choir have been playing over and over in my heart and mind. "We are waiting. We have not forgotten." This. Yes. It is no secret to anyone that knows us that the last several years have been extremely hard for our family. This past year, faith has been rattled to the core. We are waiting. I have fought hard for faith, deliberately, soldier-like. I have felt isolated and lonely, because I know the story of our life is wearing people out. I know, because it is wearing us out, too. We are weary. We have not forgotten in the wait. I know AMAZING stories come from people that have been on the brink. I don't mean any brink. I am talking to-the-bone, I don't know if we will be intact after this kind of brink. But I choose... we choose... FAITH.
When I looked up the definition for advent for this piece, one of the explanations stated that advent is "Christian theology- the coming or second coming of Christ." And there it is. We are waiting. We have not forgotten. We are looking for the coming of Christ right here, right now in this ugly-beautiful mess of life. HAS GOD FORGOTTEN? I know I haven't, but has He? Maybe everything in your life is good right now and things are going smoothly? I am thrilled for you! Soak in the lovely joy of life! But, if you are in the midst of pain, struggle, grief, disbelief, heartache, and you are wondering if God has forgotten, I want to encourage you. I need it myself, too. Please don't give up. I know sometimes things don't make sense, and life might look vastly different than what you pictured, and purpose might be the biggest mystery of all. Please choose to believe that God has not forgotten. Let hope spark, even if just a tiny little spark. You are not alone. Will you choose FAITH alongside me this advent season? As tenderly, carefully, and purposefully as I decorated our home for this season, God, too, has been tenderly, carefully, and purposefully orchestrating our lives. The story isn't finished just yet, dear one. Someday, it will all make sense, but even if it doesn't, I choose to believe that hard-fought for, bloodied, worn, transparent, but still miraculously intact faith, no matter how frayed or fragile, is one of the dearest things to the heart of God, and so are you.
All is grace...always,
Shanda
