A Weary World Rejoices

Advent is a season of waiting. In fact, the very definition of advent explains it perfectly.

Advent (n.): the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event; the coming or second coming of Christ.

If you’re like for me, you probably hate to wait. But in Advent, our waiting is special. It’s different. We wait for the arrival of Christ, knowing that He has already come as a man, died as the spotless lamb, and risen for us so that we might have eternal life. During Advent, we remember what it was like for the world thousands of years ago, waiting on the hope of the Messiah—a baby boy, born in a manger amongst animals in quiet Bethlehem.

We are waiting for peace and joy, and the promise of our Savior come alive. We’re tired of the death, destruction, and rampant sin in this world. Whether we realize it or not, we need Jesus.

I’m blown away by how God orchestrated the birth of Jesus. He used Mary and Joseph, and He planned every detail of His coming. He used ordinary people with incredible obedience for His extraordinary purpose.

Do you stop to think God wants to do the same thing with us ordinary people today?

Waiting feels like such a chore. It seems tedious and unnecessary. With all the technological advances around us, why on earth would we want to wait? We’re almost always rushing toward something. (Maybe I’m only speaking for myself here.) Yet Scripture instructs us, both in the Old and New Testaments, to do that very thing: to wait.

“But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

— Isaiah 40:31

We’re told to stay dependent on God, and He will honor our waiting. I’ve written before that waiting feels passive. Weak. Helpless. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. It’s one of the strongest and most courageous choices you can make.

Here’s the deal: We are all always waiting for something, whether it’s for a job or a home, for marriage or a baby. We will wait throughout our lives, ultimately waiting for the return of the Kingdom or eternal life beyond this earth. Most of our life is waiting.

Waiting means choosing to say every single day, Jesus is better.

Don’t forget: Our God is a Crock-Pot kind of guy. He’s not a microwave God. He is good and faithful. He fulfills His promises to us. But He works slowly—often much more slowly than we would like.

“Dear friends, don’t overlook this one fact: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some understand delay, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish but all to come to repentance.

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief; on that day the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, the elements will burn and be dissolved, and the earth and the works on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, it is clear what sort of people you should be in holy conduct and godliness as you wait for the day of God and hasten its coming. Because of that day, the heavens will be dissolved with fire and the elements will melt with heat. But based on his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness dwells.”

— 2 Peter 3:8-13

When you feel like God is moving slowly in your life, take heart. He does not delay His promise! His timing is perfect. He works in our waiting, and He is patient with us.

Advent reminds us of the beauty of waiting. God began telling His people about Jesus a full millennium and a half before His birth. God really was before all things, is in all things, and is the future of all things. He is making everything new, and His thread of redemption is woven throughout history.

The precious baby Jesus grew into the man who showed the world a new way, who died the death we deserve, and who rose again to offer redemption for all people! Christmas is the beginning of the story of Jesus, but Christmas continues with us. We wait in excited anticipation of Him. We get to wait in the hope of the Gospel, knowing He is true and faithful. Thank you, Father, for sending Your Son! Thank you for preparing the way.

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to people he favors!”

— Luke 2:14

The Reason for the Season

Christmas is almost here. As I drove up to Chicago yesterday, I had almost eight hours to myself, so I spent time listening to the Bible app and a sermon on Advent from The Village Church. It really helped me get into the mindset of Christmas and remember the true reason for the season.

If I'm honest, though, I haven't been as reflective this Advent as I wanted to be. I told myself when December hit that I'd do something special each day. I started the month listing to an Advent devotional, but doing so quickly faded away as the hustle and bustle of the season seemed to take over.

I have much to share in coming posts about all this month has held. But no matter what I’ve been up to or however distracted I may have felt, God is present. Christmas is His season. And without Jesus Christ, there is no Christmas.

This year, I’ve noticed more Christmas trees with stars on top, more Christmas cards for sale, more “Merry Christmas” greetings from sales clerks and toll booth operators and customer service folks over the phone. Have you noticed that, too? I think people—Americans on the whole—are ready for hope and revival. We are waiting for peace and joy, and the promise of our Savior come alive. We’re tired of the death, destruction, and rampant sin in this world. Whether we realize it or not, we need Jesus.

With Advent, we wait. We wait for the arrival of Christ, knowing that He has already come as a man, died as the spotless lamb, and risen for us so that we might have eternal life. During Advent, we remember what it was like for the world thousands of years ago, waiting on the hope of the Messiah—a baby born in a manger.

I’m blown away by how God orchestrated the birth of Jesus. He used Mary and Joseph, and He planned every detail of His coming. He used ordinary people with incredible obedience for His extraordinary purpose.

Do you stop to think God wants to do the same thing with us ordinary people today?

Most of us hate waiting. We’re almost always rushing toward something. (Maybe I’m only speaking for myself here.) Yet Scripture instructs us, both in the Old and New Testaments, to do that very thing: to wait.

“But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

— Isaiah 40:31

We’re told to stay dependent on God, and He will honor our waiting. I’ve written before that waiting feels passive. Weak. Helpless. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. It’s one of the strongest and most courageous choices you can make.

Here’s the deal: We are all always waiting for something, whether it’s for a job or an apartment, for marriage or a baby. We will wait throughout our lives, ultimately waiting for the return of the kingdom or life beyond this one. Most of our life is waiting. Waiting means choosing to say every single day, Jesus is better.

Don’t forget: Our God is a Crock-Pot kind of guy. He’s not a microwave God. He is good and faithful. He fulfills His promises to us. But He works slowly—often much more slowly than we would like.

“Dear friends, don’t overlook this one fact: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some understand delay, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish but all to come to repentance.

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief; on that day the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, the elements will burn and be dissolved, and the earth and the works on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, it is clear what sort of people you should be in holy conduct and godliness as you wait for the day of God and hasten its coming. Because of that day, the heavens will be dissolved with fire and the elements will melt with heat. But based on his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness dwells.”

— 2 Peter 3:8-13

When you feel like God is moving slowly in your life, take heart. He does not delay His promise! His timing is perfect. He works in our waiting, and He is patient with us.

Advent reminds us of the beauty of waiting. God began telling His people about Jesus a full millennium and a half before His birth. God really was before all things, is in all things, and is the future of all things. He is making everything new, and His thread of redemption is woven throughout history.

The precious baby Jesus grew into the man who showed the world a new way, who died the death we deserve, and who rose again to offer redemption for all people! Christmas is the beginning of the story of Jesus, but Christmas continues with us. We wait in excited anticipation of His second coming or life eternal in the kingdom of heaven. We get to wait in the hope of the Gospel, knowing He is true and faithful. Thank you, Father, for sending Your Son! Thank you for preparing the way.

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to people he favors!”

— Luke 2:14

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If you want to talk more about Jesus Christ and faith and what-the-heck-is-all-this-stuff, shoot me a message. I love meeting new people, whether virtually or in person, and gabbing about life. 

And if you'd like to know more of my story, you can read my testimony here.

Truly, He makes beautiful things.

On Microwaves, Boardwalks, and the Best Kind of Subway Rides

I hopped on the train last Thursday, feeling excited and ready to take my slightly longer commute because it practically guaranteed me a seat and time to read before work. (All this excitement at 8 a.m. coming from the girl who has only drank a half a cup of coffee in the last two weeks. #whoami)

And grab a seat I did, right as another young woman sat down next to me. I pulled out my iPad Mini and selected the She Reads Truth app—she pulled out her Bible. Naturally, I was drawn to her. Not many people will pull out their physical Bible while riding a crowded subway in New York City. I can’t say I’ve ever done it before. This woman’s faith and heart for the Lord were immediately evident.

So I smiled and showed her that I, too, was reading the Bible. Her face lit up. She told me she was reading Philippians.

“I’m trying to make changes in my life right now, and I have some anxiety about that. Philippians is a great comfort.”

She’s right about that. I told her this year marks the first time I’m reading Scripture every day and going through a Bible in a year plan. That it’s made a difference in my daily life and brought me a greater sense of joy. I told her that I, too, feel moments of anxiety. I tried to be an encouragement to her and let her know I could totally relate but that God gives us a deeper sense of peace than anything else can. We exchanged names and numbers, and we’re now Facebook friends.

I went on with the rest of my day, not fully recognizing what a gift my commute was. The fact that we sat next to each other was no coincidence. That night, it hit me how much she had encouraged me—how much I needed to hear those words in Philippians.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God,which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

I had been feeling anxious that very day about my upcoming weekend trip. I was going to visit a new city with new people, and I had no idea what to expect for the days ahead. It all felt very unknown. My anxiety stemmed from waiting for the weekend to start, waiting for what was to come, and waiting for how I’d feel upon returning to the Big Apple.  

I hate to wait.

So much worry and anxiety comes from waiting, from our impatience.

I came back to New York City on a total high from the weekend but also feeling weird about being here. It’s a busy and demanding place. Patience is not part of the New Yorker’s vocabulary. (To be fair, I don’t think it’s a part of many Americans’ vocabularies.) People push past me as I walk through the city streets. The contrast between my weekend and my Monday morning commute is a stark one. Everyone, myself included, has somewhere to be. We need to get there as quickly as possible.

What in the world are we rushing toward? Why do we hate to wait so darn much?

Even while I write this, I am overwhelmed with my schedule for the month to come. I’ll feel great once May 1 hits, but until then I am waiting. Waiting for a new apartment, waiting for how that will change my community, waiting to work on and complete some upcoming projects, waiting for more weekends of travel and spending time with friends and family.

There has to be a way to find peace within the waiting room. I don’t want to look ahead and expect May 1 to be the day when all my waiting and my anxiety will disappear. That’s not how life works, which is actually a very good thing.

Here’s the deal: We are all always waiting for something, whether it’s for a job or an apartment, for marriage or a baby. We will wait throughout our lives, ultimately waiting for the return of the kingdom or life beyond this one. Most of our life is waiting. Last year, I wrote about waiting—how waiting is an act of utmost faith. Waiting means choosing to say every single day, Jesus is better.

Our God is not a microwave God.

No, sir. Our God is a Crock-Pot kind of guy. His end result tastes and smells so much more delicious than anything we could quickly nuke in the microwave. Think about it. Wouldn’t you so much rather have the mouthwatering chili that’s been stewing in the slow cooker all day over the two-minute chili a la essence of tin can that came out of the microwave? I know I would.

The sermon I heard on Sunday was all about this Crock-Pot God. He is good and faithful. He fulfills His promises to us. But He works slowly—often much more slowly than we would like. Look at Abraham and Sarah. They wanted a child but remained childless through their old age. Yet God came through, and at the ripe old ages of 100 and 90 years old, Abraham and Sarah had a son. Seriously. They waited for a ridiculously long time, and they saw that they could not do anything without the Lord.

They’re the true definition of couple goals, am I right?

I’m back in NYC, still reflecting on that sermon and still reflecting on the woman I met on the subway. God 100 percent placed her in my life last Thursday. He used her to deliver His message and remind me that He is never far away. He was with me all weekend long, guiding me, protecting me, and allowing me to have fun. And then this week, as the anxiety hit hard, He reminded me the value of patience. His peace transcends all my little worries. I get to pray to Him, and He hears it. My subway buddy is evidence of that.

She kicked off a weekend full of rest and restoration. As I look back on the photos today, in the midst of anxiety, I had to pause on the one above. The boardwalk feels a little like my life right now. I don’t want to wait to find out what’s at the end of the boardwalk. I’m walking along, waiting for what’s next, and I really don’t know what’s to come. I want to just get there and be done with it. In life, we don’t know where our journeys will take us. But if we keep our eyes fixed on the path set before us, on the clouds above—on heaven—we’re sure to land in a spot that’s more beautiful and more satisfying than anything we could have ever hoped for. And that makes it all worth it.