A couple of years ago I went on a sailing trip. Not because I particularly enjoyed sailing, but because I was participating as a chaperone on my daughter’s much anticipated trip for which she’d been preparing for over a year. The kids were excited, eagerly awaiting a multitude of good things that would be coming to them in this experience of 5 days at sea. I, on the other hand, was not so eagerly anticipating waves of both water and nausea, for which I was actively arming myself against. I had a stash of GRAVOL, sea bands to wear on my wrists, as well as an anti-nausea patch to wear behind my ear.
Upon reading the pamphlet accompanying this “miracle” patch which was to allow me to participate fully in the joys of this sailing experience rather than retching over the side of the tall ship and wearing a green face for 5 days, I discovered a cautionary list of potential side-effects. To my dismay, wearing said patch could possibly result in disorientation (confusion), memory trouble, restlessness, agitation, not to mention the warning to use caution while participating in “water sports” because one might feel lost or confused and the more serious possibilities of acute psychosis including hallucinations and paranoid behaviours.
Ummm? How desperate was I to avoid sea sickness? Remembering my past sea experience of traversing the English Channel during a wild storm and thinking that capsizing would be preferable to the queasiness I endured at the time, I decided in favour of the patch.
Whether my first night at sea experience was related to side effects of the patch or not, it was my experience nonetheless. I had not prepared for the anxieties that threatened to drown me all night long. I had never experienced claustrophobia before this time, but the darkness itself pressed in on me – thick and heavy – pushing me under. Under what I’m not sure, but I did feel panic, not that the darkness would harm me, but that I was beginning to lose it. Restlessness and agitation were certainly rigid rulers of my thoughts and it was difficult work to take them captive (2 Corinthians 10:5).
That night, I thought of refugees traveling in the bowels of ships enduring the fears of embarking on dangerous journeys in order to escape their current tribulation for a land full of promises. I listened to the water slosh as we rocked back and forth and thought of Jesus asleep in the storm as the disciples fearfully faced the waves and I thought of Jonah in the belly of a big fish and I prayed hard. In the darkness so heavy I could feel it, I endured my fear by repeatedly laying it down before the Lord and asking him to take it from me. Over and over I thanked him and praised Him for His presence in the dark. Over and over I thanked Him for His power and might, for the gift of His Son and His Spirit. Over and over I thanked Him for His light in the darkness. As I drew near to Him I was overcome with a sense of purpose in enduring and depending on Him. My joy in Him was being made more complete (John 15:11), despite my struggle (1 Peter 1:6), despite my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:10) – His joy was acting as my strength (Nehemiah 8:10). I knew that my troubles were light and momentary considering many alternate trials existing in this broken world in which we live and move and have our being; as well as in the eternal light of God’s kingdom and it was with eyes focused on Him -this taste of heaven (Ps 34:8) – that I was able to joyfully endure and be encouraged by the lessons of which He was reminding me.
Even now in contemplating Advent, He reminds me of an oppressive darkness existing throughout the land. The side effects of our sin-sickness undoubtedly include disorientation, confusion, lostness, agitation, and restlessness.
God’s people had not heard His voice through the prophets for many, many years. It was a time of political oppression, lacking freedoms, full of sufferings and sorrows, longings for promises to be fulfilled, yearnings for peace and hopes for the arrival of Messiah, a Saviour upon whose shoulders the government would rest. These were not light and momentary troubles if we consider our timeline, but in kingdom time, God’s plan unfolded at just the right time albeit unexpected. A betrothal, annunciation, a timely visit, proclamations, angel messages and dreams, stable and star, shepherds, heavenly hosts, reminders to “fear not”, no room and a baby, ordinary and yet extraordinary. God’s perfect plan to conquer our broken mess, to release the captives, to heal our sin-sick hearts and minds, to fulfill the law and the prophets, to redeem, restore, and renew. A return to shalom, a taste of heaven – Oh what joy!
This plan is still unfolding, for as that baby grew up and returned to His heavenly throne His Spirit was sent to live in the lives of those who repent and receive Him, making room for Jesus to be King in their lives. A taste of heavenly kingdom here in the dark world, light propagated throughout the earth via the church united by His Holy Spirit, until the Second Advent.
Doesn’t our waiting look similar to ancient days? We long for the just right time when our King will return and reign forever and ever. While we suffer now, we wait eagerly for that day (at just the right time) when God will reveal our true identities in Christ. All creation had been held captive to the curse, but with eager hope (joy), we anticipate the day when it joins with God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay! We groan with all creation as if in childbirth, even while the Holy Spirit lives in us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for the release from sin and suffering. We wait in confidence that God will give us our full rights as His adopted children (Romans 8:18-23).
What a picture of joyful anticipation and the taste of heaven to come! Like a pregnant mother, awaiting deliverance, we are enlarged in our waiting and the more joyful our expectancy becomes! O come to us Emmanuel.
O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
From depths of hell Thy people save,
And give them victory o’er the grave.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high,
And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou key of David, come
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high
And close the path to misery
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Adonai, Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
In ancient times didst give the law,
In cloud and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
from Hymns Ancient and Modern (1861)