It's about time I write about the next chapter of God in the Yard. It's not that I haven't read it, or that it doesn't touch me where I am, but that I don't have much to say besides, "Yes."
I'm not hearing from God right now. I reach out to find him, and I feel like I'm grasping at air. He disappeared a while back and things haven't been quite the same since.
But here's the thing: I've been around this block before. I don't say that to blow it off, to deny soul's pain or act like there aren't still questions. But these things have a way of working themselves out.
I don't know yet what God's invitation is to me in this. I don't know if there's a call to something beyond steadiness and prayer even when there's more darkness than light. But I know this: He is still there. And that is enough.
As I wait for Him to reveal Himself or his call, I can't help but think about where I was this time last year. I was at the point of actively awaiting Mirren's arrival. We were six weeks away and had already rushed to the hospital once to see if my water had broken.
I have that same expectant awaiting arising inside when I think about what God is doing right now. He's active even though I can't see it, and in due time his work will be born in me and through my life. Just because I don't know what that's going to look like doesn't mean I can't anticipate it.
And so I have my own season of Advent this year, internally as well as externally. After all, we don't only await the birth of the Christ child during this season, but also his coming in each of us.
I don't know yet what God's invitation is to me in this. I don't know if there's a call to something beyond steadiness and prayer even when there's more darkness than light. But I know this: He is still there. And that is enough.
As I wait for Him to reveal Himself or his call, I can't help but think about where I was this time last year. I was at the point of actively awaiting Mirren's arrival. We were six weeks away and had already rushed to the hospital once to see if my water had broken.
I have that same expectant awaiting arising inside when I think about what God is doing right now. He's active even though I can't see it, and in due time his work will be born in me and through my life. Just because I don't know what that's going to look like doesn't mean I can't anticipate it.
And so I have my own season of Advent this year, internally as well as externally. After all, we don't only await the birth of the Christ child during this season, but also his coming in each of us.
3 comments:
What a beautiful post, my friend.
I've been reading Merton's "Inner Experiene" lately (boy, is it amazing!), and he talks about the faith that keeps one moving forward even in darkness. This faith is most efficacious when it doesn't try to be more than it is ... it just waits and watches and lets God do his work.
That's what I hear in what you've written here. That kind of faith.
xoxo,
Christianne
hi friend
i love how honest your heart. i pray you'll hear from him today, even in the silence. love e.
I read this a while ago, and I've been sitting with it. I feel like you've articulated something I've never been able to before. I still can't really say much except that "yes" you referred to.
Yes, Sarah.
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