December 2, 2019
Mondays are a day I typically have off but today included a newborn photo session, taking Jackson to his first dentist appointment to fill a cavity. He was so nervous but handled it like a trooper. Then groceries, dinner, piano lessons and campaigners. A day packed full but a life fully lived.
Auggies new clear words today were Grandma Joan and movie. Asher and J had wrestling practice and Addie Rose continued searching for Waldo in a new version of Where's Waldo.
I couldn't help but reflect tonight on something. As we read over the Gospel readings for this past weekend with Wyldlife kiddos and reflected on what it means to stay awake I was struck by a reality that sort of crept up on me.
In the past, my metaphor, my analogy to expectant waiting has been breathing in new life...literally-the arrival of a new babe. Our last two children left me round and feeling the movement of a baby inside.
This season, perhaps its the stage of life I am in, but there is actually more death around me. More suffering. More impending end-of-life realities. Family waiting on tests. Aunts into their 70's. A man from church dying suddenly this weekend. Children facing challenging cancer prognosis.
It seems there has been a lot of 'end times' in my days this last week. But isn't that the more beautiful expectancy? This faith isn't just for this world, it isn't just a life insurance plan. It's a 'hope for what cannot be seen, a desire for eternity and heaven' that really makes this real.
Right???
I read a Love Matters post (to which I have officially unfollowed) about a mother touting the fact that she is raising her child with no religion. It was actually being applauded.
I'm certain in fact that it is applauded from many people.
But sweet mother, what will your daughter have to cling to with all the questions?
When the darkness comes?
How will you explain death to her?
How sad that her sweet heart does not have a chance to understand the most beautiful reality of this world.
That we DO have a savior, that he is the answer to death, that he OVERCAME death. That death does not have the final say.
Advent isn't just stillness and hope for what we see on this earth. It's expectant hope of what is yet to come. Of what is ahead. Of what greets us when we take our final breath.
Oh how I desire for the world to know that, the live into that, to know the freedom of that. The fear that comes in the somewhat unknown of death cannot be matched the peace the Father gives of eternal life. It is our answer.
It is our hope.
Auggies new clear words today were Grandma Joan and movie. Asher and J had wrestling practice and Addie Rose continued searching for Waldo in a new version of Where's Waldo.
I couldn't help but reflect tonight on something. As we read over the Gospel readings for this past weekend with Wyldlife kiddos and reflected on what it means to stay awake I was struck by a reality that sort of crept up on me.
In the past, my metaphor, my analogy to expectant waiting has been breathing in new life...literally-the arrival of a new babe. Our last two children left me round and feeling the movement of a baby inside.
This season, perhaps its the stage of life I am in, but there is actually more death around me. More suffering. More impending end-of-life realities. Family waiting on tests. Aunts into their 70's. A man from church dying suddenly this weekend. Children facing challenging cancer prognosis.
It seems there has been a lot of 'end times' in my days this last week. But isn't that the more beautiful expectancy? This faith isn't just for this world, it isn't just a life insurance plan. It's a 'hope for what cannot be seen, a desire for eternity and heaven' that really makes this real.
Right???
I read a Love Matters post (to which I have officially unfollowed) about a mother touting the fact that she is raising her child with no religion. It was actually being applauded.
I'm certain in fact that it is applauded from many people.
But sweet mother, what will your daughter have to cling to with all the questions?
When the darkness comes?
How will you explain death to her?
How sad that her sweet heart does not have a chance to understand the most beautiful reality of this world.
That we DO have a savior, that he is the answer to death, that he OVERCAME death. That death does not have the final say.
Advent isn't just stillness and hope for what we see on this earth. It's expectant hope of what is yet to come. Of what is ahead. Of what greets us when we take our final breath.
Oh how I desire for the world to know that, the live into that, to know the freedom of that. The fear that comes in the somewhat unknown of death cannot be matched the peace the Father gives of eternal life. It is our answer.
It is our hope.
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