An Advent Lament

I love my job. It is fulfilling and rewarding and... well, incredibly, incredibly special. But...

I am exhausted.

Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Exhausted.

We have hit mid-December, and every time I look down at my calendar, a little piece of me cries. You see, my calendar is full. Every single day I have at least one meeting or Christmas luncheon or work activity or pageant practice or... something. On top of all my normal somethings. Every. single. day. in. December.

So, each morning, I sit at my desk and make a to-do list that is about twice as long as the lists I made each day throughout the rest of the year. And each morning, I wonder how I will possibly get everything done, knowing that nothing can be put off until tomorrow because there won't be time then, either. Sleep is becoming optional and caffeine necessary. Physical exhaustion has taken over.

I have a Christmas tree in my office that I tend to stare at when I am feeling just a tad overwhelmed. I let my kids decorate it a few weeks ago, and one of them placed two ornaments on the same branch right at the very top of the tree. The ornaments are words, covered in sparkly glitter, that seem to jump at you when the twinkle lights hit them just right. Joy. Peace. I love these words, as they remind me of what I cherish so much about Christmas. This year, however, it feels that my world is fraught with the antithesis of these words.

Each day, I am in relationship with people who have lost loved ones. Who have lost jobs. Who are anxious that such a loss is coming. Each day, as I am freezing my warmly dressed behind off, I pass by friends out in the snow who have no place to go to get warm or fed. I watch people in stores spend hundreds-- maybe even thousands-- of dollars at the check-out counter but arent willing to drop even a dollar in the bucket as they pass that person ringing a bell.

I attended a beautiful service this Sunday that was designed for those who have lost loved ones. It was an opportunity for people to have a moment of mourning in the midst of a season where we are expected (required?) to be continuously joyful. As I looked around the room and cried with friends who had lost children or spouses or parents this year, as I remembered those loved ones I had lost, as we lit candles in remembrance of them, I couldnt help but to compare the emotions of that moment with the ones we "should" have this time of year. Emotional exhaustion has taken over.

Recently, in our office, a visitor came in and stopped to chat with several of us who were about to eat our lunch. The lady, smiling brightly, bubbled as she said to us, "It must be the most amazing and joyous thing to work in a church at Christmas!" As she walked away, there was an audible groan from all of us. Yes, Advent and Christmas in the church can be magical. When you look at the 100 bikes that have been donated for charity sitting in our commons area. When you prepare to welcome the homeless guests in our gym for a week and hear how excited our church members are to cook them meals. When you have a child ask you if they can be a penguin in the nativity scene of the Christmas pageant. When you have to explain what the words "haste," and "laud" mean to kids or come up with an answer to why we sing Gloria about egg shells.

Perhaps, even more so, when I take a moment to look around and think, "Joy to the World! The Lord is come! Let earth receive her King!" Unfortunately, those moments are few and far between. During the Advent season, we staffers preach and teach about patiently waiting for the coming of Christ. We encourage congregants to be counter-cultural and bask in the glory of God's coming to earth rather than to be swept up in the hustle and bustle of the season. All the while, we do just the opposite. We double our to-do lists, we have extra services, we plan and implement more activities and mission events and christmas concerts and bible studies. We do more visits (the holidays are a lonely time for some) and say "yes" to more things because... well, it's Christmas. We give up our days off and neglect our home/ social lives. We practice poor self care. We worry about end of year budgets and deadlines and paperwork. And sometimes I wonder to myself, "Have I... has the Church... forgotten the meaning of Christmas?"

I dont think we have-- I'm pretty sure Jesus will still end up in our literal and proverbial mangers next week, but I do know this: we are spiritually exhausted. I am spiritually exhausted.

When I lay on my couch at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking of how I have neglected my family and friends and dog, thinking of how those Christmas cards probably wont get sent out, thinking of how my reappearance into the dating world is colored by the fact that I dont actually have time to devote attention to another person, thinking about how all I really want for Christmas is 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep...or, worse, for it just to be "over"...

Well, I am pretty sure this is not what Jesus would do. In fact, I think he would be asking me why the things I do in ministry are preventing me from actually doing ministry. And I would have no good answer. *sigh*

All you need is Love

Happy Wednesday!

Last year, at the beginning of Advent, I undertook a project that was a thorn in my side. I decided, on a whim, that I needed eight 4'x6' foot backdrops. I needed them built and primed. Oh yeah, and I wanted them designed and painted, too, in the Advent theme. So for two straight weeks, I ate, drank and breathed those boards. Sometimes, I look down at my hands and still think I see hints of purple and pink paint there.

Tonight, as our children were practicing for the Christmas pageant, I couldnt help but stare at the boards set up behind them. Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. I had been thinking about what I would write in this message to you tonight and, because we are focusing on Joy, I kept trying to make something work. Joy is pink and stands out from the others... Joy looks and feels different... Joy (to the world)...Joy (down in my heart)...Joy (to the fishes in the deep blue sea)... I had nothing.

Rather, I kept coming back to the "Love" board and remembering a quote from one of my very favorite TV shows. In the show, the main character says to one of the other characters: "Sometimes love isn't always enough." And after a brief, very thoughtful moment, he meets her gaze and replies, "Yeah, it is. You go without it long enough, and you realize... it's everything."

Obviously, the characters here were talking about romantic love, but tonight I have been thinking about the many kinds of love and how hard it must be for those who go without it. Especially during this time of year, we are hyper-aware of those people all around us who go without. Without homes. Without jobs. Without food. Without Christmas gifts. We donate our time and money and gifts to organizations. We drop change in the buckets outside of stores and pick angels off of trees. We give generously from our wallets... but, I wonder if we give just as generously from our hearts.

If you are like me, it's "easy" to pick out a toy or donate some money or even cook a meal for those people who are struggling at Christmas; it is much harder to love on someone by being transparent and present. This time of year is not just about donating food to the hungry, but sitting down and eating with them. It is not just about giving a child a toy, but playing with and mentoring them. It is not just about dropping cookies off to your lonely elderly neighbor, but about spending a few minutes talking with them.

Friends, there are many people all around us who are going without love. People who are alone. People who are hurting. People who are hungry and cold and in pain. People in hospitals with no family close by. People on the streets with no one to turn to. People who know brokenness, addiction, depression, or loss. People who need to be reminded of their worth in the eyes of God and you.

As we speed towards Christmas in the next couple weeks, I offer you this challenge: open your wallets, donate your gifts, provide people with meals. But also, and most importantly, offer someone--who might not otherwise receive it-- love. Offer them a hug, a listening ear, a sense of self-worth and dignity. You see, money and gifts are not always enough, but-- for those who go without it long enough-- love, well, it's everything. 

Sending you love and joy this night,
Amanda

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Today is one of those days. You know the kind. The clouds are gray and swollen and your stomach flutters in anticipation of the coming snow. Wrapped in a quilt and snuggled in your warm home with a cup of cocoa, you sit and watch... prepared for that which has been promised to you-- a magical, beautiful, hopeful scene of glorious snowflakes.

As I sit and wait, I am reminded of a handful of conversations I have had in the last 24 hours. It seems that many of my friends, whether men or women, single or married, working or in school, happy or sad, with or without children... many of them have this same sentiment: we're all waiting in anticipation for our life to "begin."

Yesterday, I laughed with several friends as we semi-jokingly discussed the merits and need for a Yenta. This morning, someone sought my advice about "game-playing" and he asked me:  in regards to other people, how transparent is too transparent? This afternoon, I chatted with a friend who struggles with complacency with their life and fear of trying something new.

In each of these conversations, the topic always came back to this truth: we are waiting for our life to begin. It is as if we believe that only once we are married, or have a certain job, or have a child, or buy a house, or fight for ourselves, or travel the world, or make a lot of money, or... only then, will our life truly begin.

As I have tossed this idea around today and taken stock of my own life, I realize that this is true for me as well. I keep waiting for... I don't know what. For my life to look the way I want it to, perhaps?  As any of my friends will attest, I am no risk taker. I live in a world of beige. I always pick the path well-traveled. I am sensible and vanilla and... boring. I have big dreams but rarely pursue them or do anything to achieve them. I avoid vulnerability and often fear looking like a fool in front of others. The irony, though, is that those times when I have protected my ego at all costs are the times when I have been the most foolish. They are the times I have missed out on something spectacular because I was afraid, because I wasn't willing to trust, because I was insecure, because I was stubborn.

I cant not help but wonder how I think my life will ever "begin" if I am not willing to take a risk.

Then, I remember this truth: I am in my home, curled up with a quilt by the Christmas tree. There is a Christmas movie on tv and cupcakes baking in the oven. My pup is snoring quietly beside me and my phone keeps buzzing as family and friends call to share a piece of their life with me. Yes, I am waiting for the snow to work it's beauty and magic in my day, to add a special glisten to my afternoon, but my day is already full of love and joy and pure happiness.

Sure, those snowflakes will add to the splendor, but even if the snow doesn't fall, my life has begun. And it is already good and special and magical, just the way it is.

Joy to the World!

Friends,

Happy Wednesday!

"Rejoice in the Lord always! Again, I say: Rejoice!" -Philippians 4:4

Do you ever find it hard to be joyful? Today, we welcome in the month of December. A time of holidays and family and friends. We wait in anticipation for the celebration of Christ's birth and everywhere you go, it seems people are filled with cheer and love. In children's ministry this month, we are focusing on the topic of Joy and, as I was reading the material today, this line stuck out to me: "finding joy and peace in the Lord, even when things don't go your way."

Perhaps I am in the minority, but things rarely go the way I want or plan.

Life is full of loops and turns and twists. And disappointments. And hurt. And brokenness. Some of us are worried about our jobs, or paying our bills, or where our next meal will come from. Some of us are struggling with health issues or loneliness or broken families or mourning the loss of loved ones. Some of us read the verse above and think, "What do I have to rejoice about?"

For those of you who have been following these weekly devotions for the last year, you know that I don't believe in sugar coating. I don't think that being a Christian is about offering trite platitudes. I wrestle with a lot of topics the same way you do, and so I spent all morning asking myself how I could write to you about Joy without glossing over the realities of pain in many of our lives.

Just as I was about to give up and "forget" to write today's Wednesday Words, God reminded me of this:

Today is World AIDS Day. Today is the 55th anniversary of Rosa Parks' stand against racial injustice. Today is the first day of Hanukkah. Today, we remember President Lincoln's 1862 State of the Union Address, where he began with these words:  "Since your last annual assembling, another year of health and bountiful harvests has passed, and while it has not pleased the Almighty to bless us with a return of peace, we can but press on, guided by the best light He gives us, trusting that in His own good time and wise way all will yet be well."

As I thought about those struggling with disease and death and malnutrition and racism and religious persecution and war, I was reminded of why I follow Christ in the first place. Jesus did not come to earth to offer us perfect lives. In Luke 4 (and Isaiah 58... and pretty much the entire Gospel!), the Bible tells us that Jesus came to dwell among his people. To live in the midst of the suffering and pain and to walk with us. The thing I often find most beautiful about my faith is that God did not come to earth in worldly majesty, but in the heart of poverty and persecution.

Here is our Joy, friends!

Joy is not that our lives are perfect or that everything always goes our way. Rather, Joy is knowing that we have a God who stands with us, in both times of abundance and times of scarcity. We have a God who stands with us in times of peace and times of war. We have a God who stands with us in times of health and times of sickness. We have a God who stands with us always. There is much joy in the love and presence of our Lord and "we can but press on, guided by the best light He gives us, trusting that in His own good time and wise way all will yet be well."

Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I'll say: Rejoice!

Blessings and Joy to all of you,

Amanda