Dear Reader,
Over Christmas (and let’s be honest and a little bit beyond (I’m a slow reader)), I read Honest Advent, by Scott Erickson, and while it is post-Christmas, I find it interesting that Advent means “coming,” and we are still waiting for Jesus’ second coming, it is okay to share my thoughts on this. I will admit most Christmases just pass by, and I’m unchanged by the fact of Jesus’ arrival and His life, death, and resurrection. And my co-worker/friend, knowing these struggles, perhaps gave me this book to speak into my emotions. I will not harp further on my feelings, as I have written previously: “Searching for Joy in a season that should be bright.” As I stated in previous posts, I’m in a time of wandering, and the things I underlined and reflect on speak to those questions, though I am not sure I have answers.
To start, in the chapter “Unease,” Erickson wrote, “But when you say to the Giver of your life, ‘I want my life to be meaningful. I want to serve you with my life. May it be so, according to what You desire,’ you have no idea what secret cosmic strategies have been put into play to answer that request” (pg. 55). I’ve often echoed the words of Isaiah, “Here I am, use me” (6:8), and yet, at times, I still feel nothing.
Continuing in the next chapter, Erickson writes, “I just know that the Divine is really really really really really detailed in Its working with us—and anytime I’m awakened to the intentionality, I’m filled with wonder” (pg. 60). I, too, know God is intimately detailed in our lives—He understood how our cells had to divide for us to grow, and how our hearts formed first as we were being knitted together in our mother’s womb. If God is so detailed and if He is moving in cosmic ways to answer my requests to be used by Him, why am I still lingering with uncertainty?
Sometimes, even when I trust that God is attentive to every detail and my requests are heard, I find myself waiting in the quiet spaces of uncertainty. Perhaps faith means continuing to say “Here I am” even when the answer is not immediately clear, trusting that what feels like silence is part of a much larger, unfolding story.
Erickson says. “The process of growth is always uneasy, because growth never comes through ease. It comes through stretching and expanding of one’s own capacity to push on ahead” (pg. 54). He also writes, “It is for love that you have been broken open so a larger capacity of faith, hope, and love can be built inside you. For love. It’s because you are loved” (pg.56). In that I can see, today in my prayer time today I wrote about my struggles (insecurities, doubts, feeling like I am a failure, finances, my pride, and feeling like I’m not doing enough.) Lord, I need you. You are sovereign, you know my ways, but what are your ways? ... You have a plan and a purpose. And maybe a purpose in these struggles is for me to depend on You, to lean on You, and maybe explore [remind] myself what I love. I love writing, both fiction and blog posts. I love to journal in that feeling close to You... How can I be of use to you in this? I don’t know if God will use me specifically in writing. I’m waiting for God, but also moving forward in writing, and if God uses this passion, it will be a wonderful outcome. Erickson did give questions about things to think about when you are uneasy.
1. What is the conversation I can have only by being in this situation?
2. What parts of my life have I been able to uncover only by finding myself here?
3. What unexpected place might God want to meet me in during this uneasy time I’m experiencing?
I will leave them here for you to ponder.
As these questions linger, I’ve found myself returning to the pages of Honest Advent, discovering even more passages that speak into the tension and hope of this season. In Part 2, I’ll share more quotes and reflections that have challenged and encouraged me along the way—inviting you to wrestle and wonder with me.
