Fourth Friday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
The Road Marked Unease
by Jared Siebert
Recently, my job of 18 years with the Free Methodist Church in Canada ended. The process of leaving my role has included many little moments that remind me that this is really happening. And it's all permanent. As I write this reflection, the IT department is removing my email access. I will no longer be receiving emails at that work address. Of course, I have other email addresses. Just not that one anymore. I’ve just finished a stretch of other lasts: last staff meetings, last leadership team meetings, last board meetings, last ministers conferences, etc. Things that have been in my calendar every week and every year for 18 years are getting deleted. I’ve said my goodbyes. I’ve had farewell meals and Zoom calls. Even when you’re leaving well (and I am mostly), this process is a slow disappearing act. My old life is vanishing in stages and tiny steps.
As of right now, I have no clear plan or path for the future. I’m walking into a giant question mark. The future doesn’t exist yet. It will come. Of course, it will come. Right?! Later.
In Galatians 3:7, we read,, “Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham.” I’ve never felt more like Abraham’s son than I do today. My spiritual “dad,” was called by God to leave the land of his father and go searching for a land God would show him. Later. His journey was buoyed by the promise that “all nations will be blessed through you.” A promise that would be fulfilled. Later. A lot later. That resonates with where I am this Advent. I am leaving a place I know for a place I don’t. It is a familiar story for “those who faith.” This time next year, things will likely look different than they do right now. God is good, and I know I’m going to be fine. But right now, this doesn’t feel very good.
Scott Erickson, in his chapter titled “Unease” from his book “Honest Advent,” speculates imaginatively and beautifully on the morning sickness Mary may have endured during her pregnancy with Jesus. If such things can be called beautiful. He describes the process like this: “The presence of God was felt as the unease of morning sickness. Don’t be surprised if your current unease is that exact same avenue of presence.” While I’ve never had morning sickness myself, I have had a front-row seat for the show. It doesn’t look pleasant. But for many women, it is a part of the process of carrying new life. Morning sickness is an accurate description of what this feels like for me right now. It won’t always be this way. But that’s what it feels like right now. Erickson reflects further “The process of growth is always uneasy, because growth never comes through ease. It comes through the stretching and expanding of one’s own capacity to push on ahead. And often the change that needs to happen in or for you to grow may leave you dry heaving on the sidelines.” Yep. The math checks out.
If you are like me and you are facing an uncertain future right now, then I encourage you to join me in embracing the unease that comes with the advent of the new. This is, after all, something our spiritual family knows a thing or two about. This is our family resemblance. Our spiritual mothers and fathers before us have walked the path marked “unease” many times, in many different moments, and often with much higher stakes. Their willingness to push on ahead is our inheritance. All of our arrivals, current and future, required the steps they took. Our own faithfulness in pushing on ahead right now will add some to the inheritance. Future people of faith will get to add theirs too. And so it goes. It’s our family’s way. Like our dad, Abraham, we sometimes have to walk in the unease. We have to leave the land of our childhood and walk toward a land we’ve never seen. Erickson offers us this encouragement for the journey, “The uneasiness is not a sign you’re doing it wrong. In fact, just as with pregnancy, it’s a sign that you’re on the right track.” Whether your journey is by choice or by the force of circumstance, our family knows this much: you don’t walk the road alone. You have walking partners, both alive and dead. You have a great cloud of witnesses always cheering you on. And most of all, you have the presence that goes with you. God isn’t just in the arriving; God can also be found in the leaving. And in the middle part, where you can neither see the land you left nor the land you are walking toward. God is present each step of the way. Known and Unknown.
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