Sacred Mundane: The Blog

It’s easier to shop than wait. 

Even now, the Cyber Monday deals are a click away.

And it’s not even Monday as I type these words.

Black Friday deals began on Thursday. Cyber Monday began on Saturday.

Nothing waits anymore. 

I get it. There are few things more difficult than waiting. And I don’t mean waiting for sales or waiting for food, I mean that utter dependent waiting that is at the heart of the Christian faith.

At the heart of Christmas. Saturday night I felt so discouraged. I was quiet in the car, and Jeff probed to hear my heart, but I tend to stay silent when I’m sad, so I just turned to him in the darkness and said:

Tell me what you’re preaching tomorrow. Preach to me. I need to hear the gospel again.

Of course when I say, “Preach to me” I didn’t mean what that phrase so sadly connotes in our culture. I didn’t mean rant. I didn’t mean lecture or finger-wag or Bible-thump or get loud or list off 3 bullet-points that all cleverly create an acronym for J-O-Y.

I didn’t really need any of that. 

I just needed Advent. I needed to know all over again why Jesus came and why His coming, His advent, is the hope of the gospel and why I can rejoice and find comfort and hope in this glorious Good News. I didn’t need it in churchy lingo, I needed it in real words that could take root in a real heart that’s wrestling with real-life stuff. 

So he began. He just spoke from his heart, into the darkness, as we drove.

Israel had waited and waited. Four hundred long years of darkness and silence. Of no fresh revelation from God. All the promises of the prophets, spoken through the Old Testament, all of them seemed like a faint whisper from a far-off past.

From so long ago they could barely believe them anymore. 

Did God really promise a Messiah?

It’s been so long. It’s been so dark and quiet. So many have given up, lost hope, turned elsewhere and found comfort in other things — in coming up with their own manmade religion to keep themselves occupied because this waiting-on-God thing is just so painfully difficult. They busied themselves with other things, giving up the watching and the waiting and the hoping, because really, let’s face it, there comes a point we just can’t keep waiting for something we cannot see. 

Tears filled my eyes in the darkness. I closed them and let the tear slip down my cheek. Now I could hear my own heart:

Waiting is so painful. Did we really hear God promise us this? Does His Word really mean what it says? Do His promises still stand today? What about the silence? The darkness? What about all the stuff that hasn’t happened? What about the UNanswered prayers? What about the unhealed, unloved, unaccepted, unchanged, unwanted? What about the homeless, lifeless, loveless, heartless? 

Why keep fighting for hope when it hurts? It’s so much easier to detach from the promise, to shift the focus from faith-filled prayer to “acceptance.” Then at least I can quit waiting and move on to something else.

It’s easier to shop than wait. 

But advent reminds us: Christ came. 

He came, according to the promise, and there were those were WERE watching and waiting, hoping for the promised blessed hope, the Savior, the Messiah, the Christ. There were the faith-full, like Simeon, who was righteous and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel. The Holy Spirit was upon him as he waited, and he did not lose hope.

Advent calls out into the darkness: Wait and do not lose hope. 

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;

Psalm 130:5

{For where you are tempted to turn away, give up: Wait, and do not lose hope. Thank you for reading.} 

Burn the IOU.

These words, spoken by the Holy Spirit to my heavy heart last January, have been repeated more times than I can count — to myself, with friends, at retreats.

There is nothing so freeing as burning that IOU. And there’s no greater gift you can give.  What IOU, you ask? The ones you’re unknowingly clutching in your fist, the ones stuffed into your pockets, the ones formulating in your mind that you’re about to write.

They’re invisible, of course, but we have them, don’t we? We enter situations, especially family situations, and familiar faces bring back old wounds or hurts or frustrations or irritations. We have that IOU, what that person owed us but didn’t give, and we remember all over again how we’ve been hurt.

Oftentimes, that person doesn’t even know about the IOU. They don’t know the debt that is accruing bitter interest with every passing year. But you know. And that IOU, waiting for that person to finally give you what you deserve, that will suck the joy and hope and life right out like nothing else.

The thing is, your IOU may be legit. I have talked with so many precious women who have seriously legit IOU’s. That is, it’s legit for you to expect to not be yelled at, as a child. It’s legit for you to expect to be treated with decency and respect. It’s legit for you to expect your family member to give you at least as much kindness as the family dog. Or the mailman. It’s legit to expect someone to thank you for a gift. It’s legit to except that your parents would not abuse you.

So many legitimate IOUs. 

And the reason I bring up the legitimacy of them, is that we cannot just see forgiveness as a sort of “look the other way” thing. We’re not pretending stuff didn’t happen. We’re not living in a delusory fantasy world where we pretend terrible stuff didn’t happen.

No, the debt is real.

Someone has to pay. 

Forgiveness says, “I will pay it.”

Forgiveness says, “I will absorb the debt, the hurt, the sorrow, the embarrassment, the humiliation. I will absorb the wrong done.”

Why on earth would someone do that? Or, the real question is, How?

Jesus. He is the why and He is the how. 

This is what Jesus has done for us. Our lives have basically given God the finger. Even the best of us have lived in sickening pride and selfishness. We’ve ignored His voice. We’ve abandoned His truth. We’ve lived as if He didn’t exist. Then we’ve run to Him when we need help.

None of us has any inkling of how bad our case really is. 

We’re in debt beyond our wildest imagination, friends.

We are all in desperate need of the mind-blowing grace and forgiveness of the gospel. 

Forgiveness isn’t flippant.

If forgiveness was an easy thing He wouldn’t have had to die a horrific bloody death on the cross. If forgiveness was just “looking the other way” then the cross is superfluous. Ridiculous. No, the cross reminds us, the gospel reminds us, that forgiveness is real, painful, bloody stuff that requires death.

Death to IOUs.

Death to our dream of having him love me the way I so desperately want.

Death to our demanding she accept me just the way I am.

Death to our desire for approval and affirmation.

This doesn’t mean there isn’t justice, it doesn’t mean we cannot confront, this doesn’t mean we never change the nature of an unhealthy relationship (we do).

This means we no longer hold onto the debt owed to us. We absorb the cost. 

Over and over and over and over.

This means not only do we burn all the IOUs in our hands and hearts, this means we determine to never write another. 

This means when the wrong comes, I turn to the Father, thank Him again for His infinite grace and forgiveness, and ask Him to help me absorb the hurt, the sting, the pain of that wound, to lay it at His feet, to be borne away by His son Jesus …

…who took the IOUs of the world and nailed them to the cross. 

The best gift you can give to those around you is to burn those IOUs and extend the gift of forgiveness to those who have wronged us. This is the key to experiencing and displaying the glory of Jesus Christ.

This is the best way to honor His birth.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Eph. 4:32

{Rejoicing in the glory of the gospel. Happy Thanksgiving! Thank you for reading.}