Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

Advent

When You’re Not Feeling Very Adventy

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I’ll be honest: I’m not feeling very Adventy this Advent.  I don’t have that sense of anticipation, the expectation that is often present in the weeks leading up to Christmas. I’m just…here. Slogging. Going through the motions. Checking chores off my list. I feel a heaviness inside, an unease I can’t quite put my finger on.

I find myself wishing it were Lent instead. Somehow these lackluster, angsty feelings seem more appropriate for those somber, mid-winter days.

Sixteen years ago on a sultry August day, during the early hours of labor with Noah, my first-born, I sat outside on the back patio, my hands resting on my big belly as it tightened and released, tightened and released. I called friends and chatted happily. Later I paced the backyard, deep-breathing as the cicadas sawed the thick humidity. I thought about my baby boy, my heart, head and gut a tangle of nervous, jangling joy.

Fourteen hours later I lay in a hospital bed in the dark. The nurse had piled three blankets on top of me. They were warm from the dryer, but still, I shook uncontrollably from somewhere deep in my core, like seismic waves rippling out from an epicenter. It wasn’t cold exactly, and I wasn’t in pain – the epidural had largely alleviated that — but something unfamiliar and frightening was happening to my body.

“You’re in transition,” the nurse told me, patting my shoulder as I gripped the sheets.

I was afraid. Around me the voices of encouragement receded. Everything grew hazy, the end point a dim prick of light. I lost focus. The goal seemed far away, unreachable. So fixed was I on the fear and the unfamiliar, I lost sight of everything else, including the baby boy I was about to birth into the world.

Transition…not the most appealing part of labor. Transition leaves you feeling shaky, out of control, lost and anxious. Transition dims your focus, blurs the way, has you gripping the bed sheets. Transition is when the hard, necessary work gets done, the work that will lead you out the other side again. But it’s not fun. It’s lonely and scary.

When You're Not Feeling Very Adventy

I feel like I am in some sort of transition right now, though I don’t know what I am transitioning out of and in to. It’s not as frightening as that first labor transition by any stretch, and yet, there is still a palpable sense of unease.

I recently read some verses in John that resonated with me. Something kept bringing me right back to the start of the paragraph to read and reread the same words again:

“Your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy, that a child is born into the world. So with you: now is your time of grief, but I will see you again, and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.” (John 16:20-22)

Your time has come, says the Lord. Now is your time of grief.

Maybe you’re like me right now. Maybe you’re not feeling particularly Adventy this Advent. Maybe you’re feeling a little lost, a bit afraid, lonely, weary, shaky. Maybe you’re doing the hard work of transition. Maybe you’re not seeing Jesus very clearly right now when it seems like everyone else is.

It’s okay. Those words I read in John? Those words are from God, telling us that it’s okay.

Now is my time of grief. And the timing may be less than perfect, it being Advent and all, but now is the time nonetheless.

There’s hope. God still sees me, and I will see him again. And we will rejoice, Jesus assures me, for no one can take away our joy.

*This is actually an edited repost that was featured in the December issue of Gather magazine. When I re-read it this week, though, it resonated with me, because truth be told, I’m not feeling very Adventy this Advent. I hope, if you’re in a similar place, it will offer you a bit of solace. Peace, friends. 

 

How To Wait Expectantly

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The morning after Thanksgiving, I stripped the hearth of pumpkins and gourds and packed all the fall decorations away. I then hauled five Rubbermaid containers marked “Christmas” upstairs from the basement and spent the rest of the day decorating. I draped garland around the bannister and along mantel, festooned the Christmas tree with delicate homemade ornaments from my kids’ preschool days, arranged the nativity scene on the coffee table and hung white twinkle lights on the picket fence.

I haven’t changed my Christmas decorating routine in more than twenty years. The faux garland I wrap around the bannister is the same one I bought the first year I was married. Year after year I display the same three vases filled with the same red, green, silver and gold miniature glass balls on my dining room table.

My Christmas decorating routine is so familiar, I can accomplish it on autopilot.

Turns out, I approach the whole holiday season much the same way I decorate my house, and I’ve got the routine down to a science.

Shop for gifts. Check.

Bake cookies. Check.

Write Christmas newsletter and mail cards. Check.

Wrap gifts. Check.

Two thousand years ago, Mary and Joseph brought their infant son Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem to present him to God, as was commanded by Jewish law. There they met Simeon, “a man who lived in prayer expectancy of help for Israel,” and Anna, an old widow who had lived in the Temple for decades, “worshipping day and night with fasting and prayer.” (Luke 2:25 and 37).

The Holy Spirit, the Gospel of Luke tells us, had revealed to Simeon that he would see the Messiah before he died, and so every day Simeon waited for the Savior in “prayerful expectancy.” Likewise, Anna, a prophet, broke into praise when Mary and Joseph arrived in the Temple with Jesus, talking about the child “to all who had been waiting expectantly for God to rescue Jerusalem.” (Luke 2:38)

The word “expectant” comes from the Latin words ex – meaning “out” – and spectare – meaning “to look at.” To be expectant means to look out for or to await, which is exactly what Simeon, Anna and others were doing all those years.

They watched and waited with expectant hope for the presence of God to pass by.

In some ways we are at a disadvantage, 2,000 years later, because we know how the story ends. While Simeon and Anna had been told about the impending arrival of the Messiah, they didn’t have any details, which undoubtedly heightened their anticipation.

We, on the other hand, know all about Jesus’ birth, ministry, death and resurrection. The story has become so familiar, so routine, our sense of expectation has diminished.

Still, there is something to be learned from Simeon and Anna. The truth is, we may know how the story of Jesus’ life and ministry on earth ends, but the story of God’s work in our own lives is still being written. God is present and active personally and intimately with each one of us, and like Simeon and Anna, are called to look for him in our midst.

The four weeks of Advent are a time of preparation for Christmas Day, and there’s a lot to accomplish, to be sure. But Advent is also an opportunity to open our eyes to Emmanuel.

God is indeed with us, and we wait in hopeful expectation for the rest of his story to be revealed.

*This post first ran in the Lincoln Journal Star.

Preparing Your Heart for Christmas {An Advent Resource Guide}

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So, I don’t love Christmas. I know, Worst Christian Ever award. But you know what I mean, right? The shopping, the busyness, all the extra stuff to do – it can feel a little overwhelming sometimes. The last couple of years, however, I’ve made a concerted effort to weave a quiet Advent practice into my Christmas preparations, and I have to say, it’s made a big difference in my heart, mind, and soul.

In light of that, I’m sharing a few Advent resources with you today. Some of these are old favorites, a couple are new this year. My wish for you is that perhaps one of these resources will help you uncover the quiet presence of Jesus amid the loud glitz and glamour of the season.

Preparing Your Heart for Christmas: An Advent Resource GuideJourneying to Bethlehem: An Advent Audio Devotional, by Kimberly Coyle – I am so excited about this one. Kimberly is an incredibly gifted writer, and I can’t think of a better guide to help me usher in the season and focus my heart toward Jesus. Starting this Sunday (November 26), Kimberly will offer a few quiet words each Sunday in Advent to help you center your thoughts more on the joy and expectation of waiting for the arrival of the promised Messiah. And the best part? It’s free! All you have to do is subscribe – details here. 

Come, Lord Jesus: The Weight of Waiting, by Kris Camealy – I might have shared this one with you already, because it’s a favorite of mine this time of year. Kris has a beautiful way with words, and her heart and spirit are fully turned toward Jesus, not only during Advent but all year long. She has been a personal inspiration and encouragement to me, and I highly recommend this Advent daily devotional. More details about the book here. Also, Kris is hosting a Facebook four-week Advent study – information on that here. 

Living the Season Well: Reclaiming Christmas, by Jody Collins – I had the honor of endorsing this book, so I read it cover to cover and enjoyed every page. Here’s a little bit of what I said in my endorsement: “Written with warmth, approachability and humor and filled with practical, applicable suggestions, Living the Season Well will guide you on a journey toward slowing down, simplifying and savoring the moments of the holiday season.” This book is particularly well-suited for parents or grandparents who are walking through Advent with young children – lots of ideas for easy, uncomplicated (read: not going to make your life busier than it already is!) creative projects.

The Greatest Gift: Unwrapping the Full Love Story of Christmas, by Ann Voskamp – Okay, full disclosure: I haven’t actually read this one, but that’s only because I am a cheapo and haven’t been able to bring myself to purchase the hard cover edition. But this is the gift I am giving myself this year – yay for me! And because I have read One Thousand Gifts and The Broken Way both multiple times, and am a faithful reader of Ann’s blog, I can vouch for the quality of her writing. She is hands-down one of my favorite authors. If you have young ones in the house, you might consider this new Christmas book by Ann, which would make a beautiful family Advent devotional.

Unwrapping the Names of Jesus: An Advent Devotional, by Asheritah Ciuciu – Again, a disclaimer: I have not read this one myself, but I have read Asheritah’s first book, Full: Food, Jesus, and the Battle for Satisfaction, which I endorsed, so I can tell you that Asheritah is a top-notch writer and a deep thinker, so I am confident her Advent devotional will not disappoint. As a mom of two young children, family is top-of-mind for Asheritah, and her devotional includes suggestions for family activities and service projects. Check out Asheritah’s blog to sign up for a free three-day sampler of Unwrapping the Names of Jesus.

Enjoy, friends – and may the peace of Christ be with you this season and always.

This post includes affiliate links. 

Welcoming Advent with Simplicity and Meaning

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Find meaning and simplicity this Advent.

A few years ago I overheard my youngest son whispering to a friend who was visiting for a playdate. Standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by Rubbermaid containers brimming with ornaments, sighing and mumbling under my breath as I wrestled a strand of twinkle lights around an unruly swag of garland, I heard Rowan say, “My mom doesn’t like Christmas.”

I still remember the look on his friend’s face, a mix of horror and bewilderment. I knew what he was thinking: “What kind of mother doesn’t like Christmas?”

Advent, which is derived from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming,” is traditionally a time of preparation. The four-week period leading up to December 25 is intended as a period of contemplation and reflection, a time in which we anticipate the arrival of the Messiah. We look back in remembrance at the birth of Jesus 2,000 years ago, and we look ahead in eager anticipation of his Second Coming. In Church history, Advent was considered a quiet time—an opportunity to “treasure in our hearts,” the coming of our Savior in human incarnation.

Somehow, though, we have lost the true meaning of Advent. Amid our frantic physical preparations for Christmas—the decorating, the shopping, the socializing—we’ve lost the time and space to spiritually prepare our hearts. We’ve lost adventus—the anticipation of the future arrival of Jesus—and succumbed instead to the busyness, obligations, and responsibilities of the present.

We’ve replaced Advent with more of everything but Jesus.

…I’m over at For Her today with three ways to simplify and refocus your priorities this Advent season…join me over there for the rest of this article.

The Weight of Waiting {and a book giveaway!}

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Come Lord Jesus: The Wait of Waiting

A few years ago the phone rang on a December evening. It was Brad’s dad, calling to tell us he had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. It was the beginning of Advent, and when I think about it today, I can still feel the bitterness, anger, and deep sorrow I experienced that holiday season. The lights, the music, the decorations, the shopping, the socializing…it all felt so garish, so offensive. I wanted everything to stop. It was all I could do not to squeeze my eyes shut and cup my palms over my ears.

That whole season was terrible, not only because my father-in-law was dying, but also because I felt forced toward a lightness and jubilance I couldn’t possibly experience. It felt like there wasn’t space for grief, like there wasn’t room for suffering and brokenness. And so we stumbled through. Our faces wore expressions appropriate to the season, but inside, our hearts were shattered.

I know God was with us that holiday season. I know he was with us in our grief and that he gently held our shattered hearts in his hands. But I couldn’t hold that tension between the joy and light of the season and the darkness and sorrow inside me. I couldn’t see that there was space in the waiting for both light and darkness, joy and grief. Amid all the festive lights and noise of the season, I couldn’t see that God makes that space for us in his son Jesus, that waiting can hold both our joy and our despair.

Come Lord Jesus: The Wait of Waiting

A few months ago my friend Kris Camealy emailed to ask if I would consider writing an endorsement for her book, Come, Lord Jesus: The Weight of Waiting, a collection of 25 daily devotions for Advent. I said yes because I love Kris and I respect and admire her writing. What I didn’t expect, though, was that her book would move me so deeply and so profoundly.

Come, Lord Jesus is the book I needed during that hard Advent, when I couldn’t find a place for suffering amid all the brightness. Kris Camealy gets it. She understands that there’s a place for that tension, the existence of both darkness and light, and she doesn’t shy away from it; she doesn’t pretend the darkness isn’t there. Kris acknowledges the grief and sorrow, the pain and suffering, and she reminds us that Jesus is Immanuel, God with us – even in, especially in, the sometimes unbearable weight of waiting.

This is a beautiful book, friends. And please don’t get me wrong – it is full of light and joy and hope. But I also so appreciate that Come, Lord Jesus does not lean so much toward the jubilance of the season that it completely disregards the fact that grief, suffering, and darkness exist. For it is only in great darkness that we are truly able to see a great Light.

Come Lord Jesus, Advent devotional

I am delighted to be able to send one reader a copy of Kris Camealy’s beautiful book Come, Lord Jesus. Enter the drawing below for a chance to win (email readers: click here and scroll down to the bottom of the post to enter the drawing).

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