This Advent: Wrestling Until We Rest

No. No. No.

In the past month, we've attended too many funerals (masks and distancing making it even harder). For an 11-year-old boy who drowned in a creek. For a man who succumbed to suicide leaving a wife and three children. For a mother who died in her sleep five months pregnant. We’ve grieved for those who’ve lost family and friends to Covid-19, one who lost her brother and her twin sister. We’ve agonized with friends who stayed by their youngest daughter's side as she delivered a stillborn son.

I’m flooded with “it-should-not-be-this-way” raging shouts in my head.

No! No! No!

I keep saying “No, No, No” for friends wounded by betrayal from fellow Christian teammates. For a widow forced to face the total chaos and renovation to her home and belongings because of smoke damage. On her own. For single friends longing not to be single. For my 88-year-old mother and all those locked away in their retirement homes, wondering if it’s worth not being able to touch anyone for a year. For political tensions separating family and friends more than any medical pandemic. For all those waiting for justice, for steady employment, for a child, for healing (or at least an easing of pain), for adult children to return to faith, for peace and safety in their own homes and hearts and minds.

No. No. No.

I am grateful Jesus tells us to come to him as children, even when we’re weary, confused, hurting, “hissy-fit” children. I am grateful God will not let me go as I pummel him with my angry and fearful prayers. I am grateful I can’t pry myself away from his embrace. This truth is embedded in me from Romans 8:38-39, TPT

So now I live with the confidence that there is nothing in the universe with the power to separate us from God’s love. I’m convinced that his love will triumph over death, life’s troubles, fallen angels, or dark rulers in the heavens. There is nothing in our present or future circumstances that can weaken his love. There is no power above us or beneath us—no power that could ever be found in the universe that can distance us from God’s passionate love, which is lavished upon us through our Lord Jesus, the Anointed One!

No. No. No.

That’s been my honest, wrestling prayer with God this season. I love the word “wrestle” because rest is nestled right in the middle of it.

I will wrestle until I rest. And then wrestle and rest again.

That rest isn’t found in pat answers but in the mystery and wonder of a God who is beyond my questions and tantrums. That rest isn’t in my understanding, but in a God who understands and loves me. His answer is in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

In this Advent season, I am meditating on Luke 1, on Mary’s wrestling  with “how will this be?” releasing into the rest of “let it be to me according to your word.”  I think about Mary’s yes in a No! No! No! world

Her yes to not be afraid. Her yes to receiving God’s favor and grace. Her yes to being overshadowed by God’s power. Her yes to his word and will. Her yes to the impossible. Her yes to bearing greatness. Her yes to magnify the Lord and rejoice in God her Savior as she births the son destined to die.

In this dark, waiting-for-his-return Advent season, I long for Jesus to come and change all the “no’s” of this broken, painful, not-right world into that glorious final “YES!” of making all things as they should be.

Rest. Rest. Rest.

If you’re a wrestler like me, I pray Psalm 131 comforts you. It takes a lot of squalling and squirming before I settle down and rest, quieted, my soul humbled in his presence. I pray in this hard season, you will find rest and contentment in his presence.

Lord, my heart is meek before you.
I don’t consider myself better than others.
I’m content to not pursue matters that are over my head—
such as your complex mysteries and wonders—
that I’m not yet ready to understand.
I am humbled and quieted in your presence.
Like a contented child who rests on its mother’s lap,
I’m your resting child and my soul is content in you.
O people of God, your time has come to quietly trust,
waiting upon the Lord now and forever.
Psalm 131, TPT

Wait. Wait. Wait.

As we long for things to be made right and for Jesus' return this Advent, as we wrestle to come to the point of surrender of “Let it be to me,” may we quietly trust and "Wait with hope. Hope now; hope always!"(Ps. 131:3b, MSG)

Recalibrating Practices: Wake Up and Root Down

Aligning Your Spiritual Posture

It’s not my mother’s fault. She told me to stand up straight. But after years slouching over my computer keyboard, I confess I am a “slumper.” A slumper who also is easily distracted and frets too much.

Because of that, I developed a recalibrating practice I call my “morning stand,” a way to engage my whole body to anchor my scattered soul as well as straighten my sagging posture.

As one “prone to wander” spiritually and emotionally, taking my morning stand has helped “bind my wandering heart” to God. For those, like me, who may be scattered or sagging, I offer this practice.

To recalibrate your soul and stretch your body, try this simple five-minute wake-up routine integrating Scripture, movement, and prayer.

First, while lying in bed, breathe deeply and remember who you are: This is your beloved son/daughter (and state your name). Pause and exhale: In whom you are well pleased. Luke 3:22 (Truth note: For all who are believers in Christ, this how God now sees us.)

Then, sit up and gently stretch your neck and shoulders and repeat three biblical truths:

• I am made in the image of God (and so is everyone I will interact with today) 

• I am part of the plan of God (therefore, what I do today has purpose and meaning).

• I am filled with his Holy Spirit.

Next, stand and plant the four corners of both feet on the floor, imagining tree roots growing down, life flowing up. Lengthen your spine, aligning and stretching from your toes through your neck and head.

 Pray from Ephesians 3:17-19 (adapted from The Message):

I ask You that with both my feet planted firmly and rooted deeply in love, I'll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ’s love.

Roll your shoulders up and back and stretch your arms wide, thinking of the love of Christ shown on the Cross, and the vulnerability of being fully open, heart and body, to the world. Breathe slowly and deeply.

Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.

Then, lower your arms and place your palms down. Visualize gently dropping each of your deepest heart concerns and questions into the loving scarred hands of Jesus.

Pray, “I pour out all my worries and stress upon You and leave them there, for You always tenderly care for me.” (I Pet 5:7 TPT)

Turn your hands up in a receiving position. Picture God pouring his grace and mercy, power and love, wisdom and strength into your body and mind.

Pray, “You have not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love and self-control.” (2 Tim 1:7)

Repeat the Lord's prayer slowly, stopping where you most need it this day (praising Him, seeking His kingdom, yielding to His will, laying out daily needs, asking/giving forgiveness, resisting temptation, overcoming evil). 

Finally, lift your head in a way which will balance a crown and remember the truth that He has crowned you with His steadfast love and mercy and remind yourself that you are the son or daughter of the King of Kings ready for this new day. (Ps. 103:4)

Note 1: For those of you who wake with a toddler’s finger poking in your eyeball, the alarm ringing in your ear after too little sleep, or late before you even leap from bed, don’t give up. To remember who you really are, what is true about you, and rooting deeply in the love of Christ can be done at any hour. The releasing of our deepest concerns and fears into Christ’s hands can be done on repeat (since I tend to reel mine back in after casting them onto the Lord). Just like we need to continue adjusting our physical posture, we can keep training our spiritual stance.

Note 2: When I’m tempted to uproot from love because of pain and doubt, I’m reminded of Henri Nouwen’s words.

“Do not hesitate to love and to love deeply. You might be afraid of the pain that deep love can cause. When those you love deeply reject you, leave you, or die, your heart will be broken. But that should not hold you back from loving deeply. The pain that comes from deep love makes your love even more fruitful. It is like a plow that breaks the ground to allow the seed to take root and grow into a strong plant. Every time you experience the pain of rejection, absence, or death, you are faced with a choice. You can become bitter and decide not to love again, or you can stand straight in your pain and let the soil on which you stand become richer and more able to give life to new seeds.”

How Will We Emerge? Guest Contributor Jim Branch

The third voice in this series of thoughtful people is Jim Branch, author of the Blue Book and other books, challenging us that this season may be teaching us less is more.

If I have learned anything in these last few months of quarantine and pandemic, it’s that more is not better.  It’s just not.  But, unfortunately, we live in a culture that says it is.  We live in a world that is addicted to more.  But my guess is that in the past few months, where more has not been an option, the value of less has kind of snuck up on us, surprised us, and maybe even delighted us.  In fact, in many ways we might have actually discovered that less is more.  Less work means more quality time to be with those who are nearest and dearest to us.  Less activity means more conversation, rest, and reflection.  Less frenzy and chaos and hurry means more peace and joy and contentment.

But what happens when things finally get back to normal?  Do we jump right back in to our “more is better” mentality?  Or do we take the lessons that less has taught us and weave them into the fabric of our lives?  Do we proceed in a different way and at a different pace and with a different perspective, or do we mindlessly plunge back in to the demands and busyness and hurry?

“It is for freedom that Christ has set you free,” Paul tells us in Galatians 5:1. “Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”  What if the last few months were about bringing freedom?  What if the last few months were an opportunity to experience a different way, so that each of us might choose to proceed differently?  What if God is trying to get our attention, as a people and as a culture, and say, “More is not better. See! Less is the better, deeper, and more live-giving way. Choose less. Don’t allow the desire for more to rule over you. Don’t allow it to make you its slave once again.  Because the constant pursuit of more will actually make you less; and doing less, will actually help you to become more.  Everything is topsy-turvy in the kingdom of God.”

The only question is, will we choose freedom, or will we choose bondage?  Whether we believe it or not, the choice really is up to us.

Jim Branch is an ordinary guy who longs to live a life of extraordinary depth and quality. He is a fellow journeyer and pilgrim, just trying his best to understand daily the depths of God's great love and affection. He has been in ministry for over thirty years, eighteen of those with Young Life, and loves seeing people of all ages come to know Jesus in the most intimate way possible. He is married to Carol and they have three incredible adult children: Tim, Michelle, and Hunter. You can sign up for his blog here.