“I always say Advent is my favorite season of the church year, and then Lent comes around…”
“Yeah, I think they’re good seasons for melancholy people.”
* * *
The world as it is now is broken and messy and lost, y’all. Creation laments. The martyrs ask “How long?” Even now in the country where I live, there are people who have no knowledge of God who know things are wrong and are meant to be different. They’re crying out for justice. And they’re crying out for mercy.
And more than that, much of my heart is still broken and messy and lost. There are too many shrines to dark deities set up in a house that should be wholly dedicated to the true God. My voice gets added to the chorus crying out for things to be fixed–for me to be fixed.
The waiting doesn’t only feel like ages; it has been ages. Immanuel has come and ransomed us, but we’re still looking down the road waiting to see Him come walking back to tell us that the place He’s preparing is finally ready.
Even still, we get called to straighten up and raise up our heads, because our redemption is drawing near–not just in some distant future, but it keeps getting nearer and nearer. “The word itself is very near you,” writes Paul–“it is in your heart and in your mouth.” And the Word repairs us from the inside out. And one day He’ll show us what He did. In the meantime, we keep looking up at Him. And we wait, and we rejoice.