Truly Advent

Waiting is not an unfamiliar concept to me, despite the trend of instant gratification in our culture. This year has been one of waiting to hear the voice of God, to know what might be next in my personal and vocational journey, or even to experience what Jesus promises is the peace that passes all understanding. We all wait for something; I am not alone in my waiting. Maybe we wait for the grass to get greener, like on the other side of the fence. Perhaps we are waiting for the darkness to lift in our weary souls or for oppression to cease and God’s mercy to redeem. Whatever the waiting, having patience and hope in our world’s broken state is the hardest part.

Waiting was not unfamiliar to the people of God in Scripture. The Israelites were accustomed to waiting, and grew wounded, tired, ungrateful, and impatient in doing so. They were promised a redeemer, one born of a virgin, to come with healing in His wings, or in the original Hebrew language, the “corners” of his garment. He would lift them out of their oppression, brokenness, and place them on top of the world, in a bright shining city on a hill. He would save their lives through His grace, giving salvation and redemption to a world weary of waiting, losing hope.

Sometimes in my waiting, I forget to see the gifts in front of my face, like the first-world, lavish conditions I live in. I forget that I eat three meals a day and have more left for another. I have family and friends that love, understand, and truly know me. I can read, write, and express myself without fear of losing my life for speaking what I believe to be true. Sometimes, when the waiting is almost unbearable, I even forget that regardless of the world around me, there is One who loves me unconditionally, and offered the gift of His Son that I might know eternity with Him in Heaven. Somehow, the weariness of my soul wins, and I find myself identifying with Israel in their waiting. Impatient for my Redeemer to be done healing my broken heart or mending the ways I see pain in the world.

This Christmas, I suppose it is important for me to have seen darkness, to know pain in the world or brokenness in my soul. To become familiar with the struggle and tension of waiting for the Israelites is only half of the story. Identifying with the pain and suffering of Christ paints a new picture for me of what He did becoming the “light of the world”. At Christmas I get to remember the waiting of the Israelites and be reminded that we will continue to wait for the return of Christ to us, honestly hoping for Heaven. Just like the weary world rejoiced as Christ came once long ago, He will come again. Just as He brought the law of love, and the Gospel of peace, He will come again to bring completion to the redemption of the world, and even my soul.

His light, in Christ, is what we see now on that city on the hill and what we will see made new in us as we allow Him to change our hearts. The light He brings asks nothing of us to earn it, but invites us to “taste and see” its goodness even now. Will you join me in celebrating the gift of God’s light in a dark world through Christ this Christmas? And will you remind me to continue hoping for heaven when I seem to forget that the best gift has already been given?

Gratefully,

Emily

Had to include this because she's so darn cute!!

The Potter and His Clay

My neighbor and I went on a walk about a month ago and I have been thinking about something she said ever since. We were talking about the healing and redeeming God does in our lives. Sometimes “rebuilding” seems to be a better word for it. She said something along the lines of, “God’s redemption of our lives takes the whole lifetime.” He’s constantly in the business of rebuilding, renovation, and recreating.

I have been spending a lot of time holding my newborn niece these days. She is fragile, tiny, with miniature fingers and toes, making sweet sounds, and is vulnerable in this life stage. It reminds me of my own soul’s fragile and vulnerable nature, and the ease with which it is broken or shattered. I’ve prayed that God would break my heart for what breaks His. I just didn’t realize it was my broken heart that needed tending to.

Sometimes when I am in a broken place, I see the Lord at His potter’s wheel. He has picked up the pieces of my soul named anger and pride, the ones with sharp edges and jagged sides. He lingers over the pieces with gutted insides, named insecurity and rejection. He picked up those pieces scattered about that I thought He had long since forgotten, hurtful words and lies I have believed. He gathered those dried out and sharp shards, and begins to see something new. Collecting much needed moisture from my tears of sadness and grief, He begins to turn the mixture into malleable clay.

Sitting before that potter’s wheel, the One who sees acknowledges each detail and knows the perfect place for each piece as He begins to rebuild. With gentleness and grace He leans His hands into my clay soul’s sides, with perfect pressure at each point. He spends hours shaping, more so, perfecting.

With indignation I ask Him why He made my clay soul so fragile, so easily breakable. Why not make a concrete disposition or one not so quick to fret with life’s shifting sands. He coolly speaks the truth that if He did, I would have no need for Him altogether. It’s that moment of the conversation I’m having with the great potter that He tells me He’s a good and trustworthy artist. Duly humbled, I acknowledge that this potter works with care, purpose, and trustworthy goodness. This potter, after all, is the great comforter, wonderful counselor, almighty God, everlasting Father, the prince of peace.

So then, in this lifetime of being rebuilt, re-crafted, newly shaped, my prayer becomes:

Lord, let my soul be breakable enough in the places it needs, but not so fragile that the shattered pieces cannot be picked back up once more.

2 Cor. 4:7-10; 16-18

We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.

We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.

That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.

I'm an Aunt!

So this is old news for those of you that follow me of facebook, but since I can, I figured I'd just let you all know here on the blog that my little niece is adorable and perfect (as far as we're concerned)! Proud much? ;)

Ladies and Gentlemen,
Meet Adele Grace Whelan

Proud grandparents, Pappy and Nanna

Another set of proud grandparents, Grandma Jan and Papa Ron, and their son, the proud daddy

just a couple hours old

Auntie Em

One of the few sad faces...she;s a happy baby!

Nanny meets Adele in the hospital

Gucci and Adele meet for the first time....I think they like each other

Thanksgiving day...so much to be grateful for!

Mommy and Babe...lots of love!

As the deer pants.....

This summer I turned 27. I asked for a necklace I had been eyeing online from a gal who makes her necklaces by hand. The necklace was going to be a manifesto of sorts, for the year to come. It was going to be a reminder and a goal to reach for. The necklace was going to be all of these things because I couldn't create for myself the hope I needed. Emily Dickinson's famous quote about hope is etched into a metal tag on the necklace, with a delicate pearl and a stamped feather accompanying the words. It says, "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul." Of course, this isn't the complete poem that the line comes from, but it's words have significance for me.

Birthday money came along and I ordered up that necklace with great joy and excitement about all the hope it would help me create. We all know how this story goes....hope is not something we can create on our own, right?

It's been two and a half months since I bought that necklace and I've been wearing it frequently. However, the more I wear it, the more I reflect on what it really means.

I get this picture of the most beautiful bird, clothed in vibrant colors, singing cheerful and soothing tunes, perched delicately on the window sill in my soul. It sings comforting songs that offer joy and peace, even lingering in the shadows, persistent and pure.

The only problem with this bird of hope is it's neighbor, grief. Grief has found her place in my soul as well. Grief is a sad old woman, clothed in dark robes, shadows covering her face, hiding the wrinkles that reveal pain endured. Grief is heavy and doesn't often move. She sits and steals the songs of her neighbor, the hopeful bird, and packs them away in the dark recesses of my soul, making them impossible to hear. Grief cries from her step in my soul and digs deeper than I ever imagined she could go when I invited her in. I am not sure who gave her permission to shoo away her neighbor bird, but when she does, the bird flies from it's soul perch and I am immediately aware of the sadness grief requires of me.

What would it look like for grief and that sweet, delicate, little bird of hope to sit and stay for a while? Just when I get accustomed to either voices speaking the truth I need to hear, one is silenced by the other. Grief isn't all bad, requiring me to be cry for the things in my world that need some tears, but isn't it hope that makes grief possible to endure?

The Psalmist David knew this tension better than anyone as we witness the emotional extremes he endured in the Psalms he wrote. Psalm 42 is not just a lament, but a call for God to be his hope, and David found the strength and courage to praise God, despite that he often felt forgotten by God. I find it interesting that in that same passage David acknowledged his need for the stream of living water only God could provide despite his desert wandering.

There is a certain death to self that brings life, but not without grieving what has been lost and diving into what David called, "deep calls to deep." I suppose it is God's mercy that makes it possible to enter grief and His hope that makes it possible to endure.

Perhaps grief and hope are both dwelling in my soul after all.

Psalm 42
¹ As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God.
² My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
³ My tears have been my food
day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
⁴ These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go to the house of God
under the protection of the Mighty One
with shouts of joy and praise
among the festive throng.

⁵ Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

⁶ My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.
⁷ Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.

⁸ By day the LORD directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.

⁹ I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”
¹⁰ My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”

¹¹ Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

*photo courtesy of: http://www.lisaleonardonline.com/hope-is-the-thing-necklace-P65C32.aspx

Weekend in the trees

Fall has descended upon Texas....and I love it!!

I spent the weekend out at camp, which I do every other weekend, and loved driving through the river (yes, we drive through the river) observing the change and vibrant colors of the leaves. It was fantastic. They were not quite as brilliant as the trees I walked through in my days at Gordon-Conwell up in the Boston area, but I'll take what I can get. Here's one photo our photographer took out there this weekend.


Doesn't it make you feel refreshed just looking at it? I walk away from camp every weekend feeling a little more like myself. It's a very good thing.

Weekend Update

Sometimes I wish I was as funny as Tiny Fey and as you read the title of this blog, you'd jump for joy at the coming sarcasm and jokes that make millions. Unfortunately, you'll have to settle for the literal interpretation and the non-SNL update....this is literally an update on my weekend.

But it gets even better. My college friend Rebecca, who I have the joy of sharing life with here in San Antonio (at least for this year), did a wonderful job cataloging our weekend away. We hit the road with her sweet husband, and went to Houston to visit one of his college friends and see that area of Texas for ourselves. Actually it was more like Seabrook and Galveston, but who's counting. She documented our weekend away with charm and gusto over at her blog that I think you should visit! Weekend update: here

Our trip was a Saturday to Sunday whirlwind but we had a great time! But if it was just a Saturday to Sunday trip you might be wondering what else I do with my time in my "minimally" employed state :). Thanks for asking. I'm a sign making machine! That's right....signs. Not the type of "signs" you find in the New Testament, the plain old wooden ones. I was inspired by some friends of mine, Andy and Tara Lowry. They have a ton of creative juices flowing through their home and I first copied one of their creations, the city sign, that Tara blogs about on her fabulous and insightful blog. Here's my take on the city sign:


Tara and Andy are also making these awesome "Family Rules" signs that you can order from them on Tara's blog. Just click on this word, "link", and go check it out. She's even giving one away, some with Christmas words on them. Go order one!!!

I'm not sure Tara and Andy should have showed me how to make these signs because now I'm coping their original idea and making all kinds of signs for friends and family. Here's the one I made for my soon-to-be niece's nursery:


Right now I'm in the process of making one for a friend as a Christmas present and making a small one that is going to be a fun little Christmas decoration just for me! Can't wait to post the final products! Maybe I should start selling these babies and call this my other part-time job because Lord knows they take awhile to make! :) Hope you all had a great weekend and are doing things you enjoy.

The Great Comforter

Last night, as I was laying in bed and saying some prayers I could hear the sound of the cars traveling along the highway a few miles away. It was not a sound that was unfamiliar, but one that brought me back to the upstairs room in one particularly comforting home.

Every Christmas growing up we went to Nanny and Pappaw's house on a sprawling 135 acre beef cattle farm, in what seemed like the "middle of nowhere" Kentucky. Despite Frankfort being the capitol city, this Seattle girl was far from her childhood suburb, but felt right at home in the open spaces and southern drawls. My sister and I shared one half of the upstairs, in two twin beds that Nanny had to buy once she found out we did less sleeping and more fighting in that full size bed. We'd lay in bed and fall asleep to the sounds of trucks along the highway, the only indication that a more bustling world was not far away. We would wake up to the smell of Nanny's biscuits, bacon, and sausage, and come down the stairs to find her dressed in that same blue "housecoat," with matching "houseshoes" shuffling along the wooden kitchen floors. She'd smile and say, "how's my girl? Sleep good?" and I'd be embraced with a hug and the warmth of the kitchen stove. The day would be spent exploring the pastures, jumping through hay bales, and maybe a horse ride or a trip into town. The smell of the cows is not hard for my brain to recall but the adventures along the creek that run through those fields, seems more vivid and breathing with life. Each evening spent in the den, watching TV and visiting, sitting with family and settling in.


Imagining that farm and that house was all it took for me to feel embraced and comforted last night. There is a reason God told the Israelites to remember His faithfulness with great repetition. He knew it would be hard for them to remember when the desert grew hot and nourishment was hard to find. He knew they would begin to question His goodness as they wandered to the land of the living. Somehow I imagine some of them needed a bit of comforting as they wandered, feeling lost, and uncertain that God's promises would become reality. In my own seasons of desert, I too forget that God's faithfulness is real and I do need His comforting and encouragement to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Gratefully, His mercies are new every morning and even if I cannot see His faithfulness or provision for me in the future or even in my present, I can see His goodness in my past and be comforted by memories in the past. Perhaps of the farm or grandparents who walk so closely with Jesus you feel a little more connected with Him after time with them. Nanny always said, "God is good, this I know for sure". Her words are spoken with tremendous life experience as she has seen her fair share of deserts and hard places. Her faith has seemingly not wavered but reminds me to let go and trust a God that comforts and provides.

2 Corinthians 1:2-7

² May God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ give you grace and peace. ³ All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. ⁴ He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. ⁵ For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. ⁶ Even when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. ⁷ We are confident that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us.