Maybe this year, more than any other, there is a weight of gratitude in my soul that is so heavy, it feels like it could drag me to the deepest part of the love of Christ.
What a year it has been. In some ways, I feel like I’ve lost an entire year of life.
July 9.
It seems appropriate that my last post was about piles of stones, because I woke up today realizing I do have them. I do have ebeneezers floating around to remind me of the ways I’ve been delivered. My piles of stones are dates on the calendar. Dates that remind me of faithfulness. Dates that remind me that when the bottom falls out and you fear the free fall, another ledge will catch you somewhere in the dark.
Tell your kids about ME. Put these stones here, where they will see them. And when they ask: ‘what are these rocks? Why do we have this big pile of stones here?’ Then speak. Tell them of the day I parted the waters so you – all 40,000 of you – could be free. Could walk toward rest. Tell them the story of that day so that would know who their God is.
I read that story in Joshua this morning and I keep thinking about how terribly vulnerable it must feel to have a pile of rocks laying around that likely represent one of the most sacred days of your life. That anyone could see and ask about at any time.
Boy. I tell you what, today’s Advent really took it out of me. If you’re receiving the daily emails, you might have noticed today’s was a tad delayed.
Today was the hardest one so far, but not in a bad way. Sometimes a sense of responsibility and the weight of words settles over me and I can’t shake the sense that – this one – this one I want to get right. This truth is too precious to me to share flippantly.
I don’t know what to say. I am out of words. I am humbled, amazed, stunned, leveled by our God who has come to us in the dark of night.
I wrote an Advent devotional once before. I still remember the feeling as my fingers flew over the keyboard. It was pages of some of the finest writing I’d ever done; heart and soul left on the page. I was so confident God was in it, that when the feedback came, it took me a beat for to understand what I was hearing.
“It’s too…depressing.”
His words echoed in my mind all day long, until they finally solidified into a simple fear and a question that haunted me for little while too long: Oh shit. Is it just me? Am I the only one who thinks this whole think is kind of a cluster?