I’m proud to say that I successfully waited until the week of Thanksgiving to play Christmas music! And now, when I’m writing this, the world is in full-blown Christmas mode. The tree in my apartment is lit with colorful lights, and I’m recovering from fun Christmas parties this past weekend. A part of me feels like I’m already living as if it’s Christmas, when instead this should be a season of joyful expectation.
I was talking to a friend recently and she boldly proclaimed that she felt a calling to not celebrate Christmas yet. Meaning no movie marathon nights watching Home Alone, no looking at lights or singing "It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." She was prepared to enter into the silence and stillness of the Advent season with Mary and Joseph as they traveled to Bethlehem.
I was blown away by her sacrifice in waiting to celebrate.
It’s gotten me to think, why does the world bypass Advent? Are we scared to enter into the silence of our hearts, are we scared to wait, or for that matter, scared to wait with hopeful expectation?
Waiting has become a sore spot for my heart. I’ve had a desire for years, a desire that still goes unanswered, and a desire that’s left my heart weary instead of hopeful.
I felt myself losing hope a while ago. As the hope slipped away, I prayed that I’d feel the Lord romancing my heart, drawing me back to Him. Instead of feeing close to His Heart, I found myself grasping even more, feeling the distance between us growing, and feeling this desire of mine burning a hole in my heart.
I bore the load of my tangled heart alone because I was trapped into believing the lies that I had to do it on my own and that I had to act in order for this desire of mine to come true, because if I was going to wait on Him, I might wait a lifetime.
I pushed aside the gentle whispers I’d heard consistently from the Lord that said, "I hear you, just be patient.”
I told a friend the other day my need to take matters into my own hands and she looked at me with sad eyes.
In the stillness that lingered after I expressed this part of my heart, she said, “Kirsten, God wants to pursue your heart so badly and is just waiting for you to give Him permission.”
That stopped me in my tracks.
Ever so slowly, I felt my heart opening to the possibility that Jesus wanted to pursue my Heart. That prayer I sent to Him weeks ago about romancing my heart had come to fruition.
I knew in that moment, this was the start of returning to His Heart. This was the start of putting control back into His Hands, of entering into the stillness when I’m with Him and allowing Him to speak to my heart, a heart that’s still suffering but a heart that knows it’s not alone.
It’s only been a couple days since my friend said those words to me and I feel oddly at peace with sitting in this place of waiting, back again where I’ve been for years. Waiting for the prayer to be answered, unclenching my fists and letting Him weave the timeline into something that I can’t plan by myself.
I can’t help but think of Advent in the midst of all of this.
When I was tempted to grasp, tempted to do it on my own, I had put my hope in this desire of mine, instead of putting hope where it should be, in Jesus.
What a difference it makes when we know Who holds our prayers, and Who holds the desires of our hearts. What a difference it makes to place our hope in Him.
I can’t help but imagine the thoughts of Mary and Joseph as they journeyed to Bethlehem, full of hopeful expectation amidst the suffering of the unknown. Instead of clinging to the unknown, they clung to hope. Instead of putting hope in their own expectations, they put hope in the Lord, knowing that whatever happened was His desire for them.
May we feel joyful expectation this season, knowing that Joseph and Mary are in our waiting, and knowing that Jesus is pursing our hearts, asking us to hope in Him.
With Love, Kirsten
