How is it we both resist and pursue being out of control? Not having control makes me uneasy. But I love the taste of surrender, the throwing hands up, tossing off weights, and running in the direction of my Savior.

Guess that’s what Christmas time is about, when we do it right: believing in what we cannot see, trusting in what we do not know, finding a way to stop these dashing hours and say, whatever is happening in my life right now, including all that isn’t perfect, with all my ducks NOT in a row, I celebrate Christmas.  I believe in the lights, for He lights me; the ornaments, because He adorns me; the garland draped on mantles, as He is my covering.

When the calendar strikes Advent, December 1: we hit the stores, the lists, the world wide web, combing. We stoke fires, lavish loved ones, bake till the house brims with cloves and cinnamon. Shuffle in slippers, gaze at twinkling lights, give surprise gifts. We illuminate our neighborhoods and lawns to light our children’s eyes with wonder.

And I wonder, what about all the need, God? The children who suffer want? What about the lost ones, the ones Momma and Daddy on the news can’t find? The teens whose minds are wild with pain, mothers who don’t have answers?  And it sounds horrible but honest: what about my needs, God? The ones I don’t see answers to? What of this wrestle to see what I can’t, to know what I don’t, to want control while only you cast wind and waves?

Breakfast is a sip of coffee, a bite of the Word. Under lights and ornaments of silver and gold, I journal. We wrestle. And in our time on the mat, somehow I let go. Surrender.

I don’t know the answers, but I sure know One who does.

“Thank you for this trial,” I exhale, hands pried open wide, fingers lifted toward the lights. “Thank you.”  Because breaking bread and giving thanks always precedes the miracle.

So Advent has come — the anticipation of the miracle is here. We slow to celebrate. We wait. We prepare for the Christ child. The One who knows what we do not. The One who will rise from the furthest depths to forever show us, “With man, this is impossible. But with God, all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:6).

Shall we pray?

God, I am in not in control of this circumstance: (you fill in this blank.) But God you have shown me by your life that you raise the dead; you blow breath into dry bones. you make my soul live, you rise victorious from ashes. You live in me, so I too will rise!  Upward these hands go, palms open. I believe and proclaim that you will take this circumstance: (you fill in this blank) and turn it for the good, because you love me and promise you will always take care of me.

In your name, I pray, Jesus.

Amen.

(p.s. During this season of Advent, pray for our ministry?  Share your thoughts? Share posts? Believe with me that in the waiting, the miracle is coming?)

Love,