Be Still and Know - Day 29

When it comes to Advent and to meditation I've been in a state of frustration and tension, angst and unsettledness the last few days. (Thus the pause in blogging.) It's not really a pleasant place to be.

I haven't quite felt like meditation was going anywhere or doing anything. I know it's not necessarily supposed to go somewhere or do anything, but still, it's annoying.

And as for Advent, I've been reading all I can get my hands on - online devotionals, emailed devotionals, blog posts, snippets of books, and I'm not settled. I'm having trouble with this idea of anticipating the coming of Christ... when Christ has already come. I'm having trouble with identifying with the Jewish people of long ago, who were waiting desperately for the Kingdom of God to come... because the Kingdom of God is here! And I'm having trouble figuring out what I'm supposed to really feel and focus on during Advent.

My spiritual journey, and more recently my contemplative journey, has taught me that God is tangibly accessible at anytime, and that what Jesus taught about the Kingdom of God being at hand is right: when we live a life of love and compassion the way He taught us, we experience God on Earth; we experience the Kingdom of God being lived out here and now; we experience God With Us, Emmanuel. I know I'm supposed to crave that day when Christ returns. But honestly, while it sounds exciting and I know it will be wonderful, I also know that God is good here and now. I experience His Love and His Kingdom here and now - even in the midst of the brokenness of the world. So making myself long for that time when all will be well, ends up making me wallow in the awfulness of this world now, which seems so counter to what I have learned to do. (I don't know if this makes sense, but therein lies my frustration, I suppose.)

So what is Advent about?

In meditation this morning I was drawn to do some visualization. I put myself in a peaceful place, along the banks of the pond back at my family farm, hearing the birds and the leaves falling, the fish splashing and the ducks paddling. Jesus came and sat with me on the overturned boat I was using as my seat. I started to practically vomit out to him all of my frustrations. Then I fell silent as I heard him say with such loving eyes and peaceful voice, "Kim, you need to stop fighting against what is supposed to be. You need to be still." As I calmed my spirit, I came to know (not necessarily through Jesus' words to me, but by His presence) that this period of frustration, tension, angst and unsettledness is exactly what I'm supposed to feel and be going through. This is exactly what Advent is about. I am on the cusp of a new revelation about something, and before new revelation is always a period of angst.

Now that got me excited, and gave me a whole new perspective. The unsettled feeling is not gone. It is almost more intense. Not pleasant, but now expectant. I can't really explain it. My heart is heavy, but if this is purposeful, then I revel in experiencing it, instead of pushing it away.

In a story about the night Jesus was born by Max Lucado, which I read this morning, one phrase shouted out to me: "God goes to those who have time to hear him - so on this cloudless night he went to simple shepherds."

Am I as available to God's coming as those shepherds watching their sheep that night? Do I have time to hear? Am I as simple and humble about who I am as those lowly shepherds were?

Those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength. Isaiah 40:31

As I mentioned, our pastor challenged our church to spend time this week in thanksgiving and in fasting. Fasting gives us space for God, while thanksgiving brings our focus to God. So for me, both of those things have brought me to a place to do just that: to have time to hear God. Even though it has been an unsettled place, I have heard Him, nonetheless. And for that I am truly thankful!

God goes to those who have time to hear. Max Lucado