Advent | All is Well

Hope Bracketed by Agony ~ Advent

December 8, 2014 By Shelly Durkee

I would have to say that the words of Psalm 38 are the first words I ever truly prayed in true longing–in hopes that the God I had heard about all my life was real. Longing that the God I had determined did not exist, truly would exist. The words of Psalm 38 were the first words I had ever truly thrown out into the universe, begging that there be a God big enough to hear them and to answer the anguish of my soul.

O, I had prayed to God long before that. As a child. As a teen. I can barely stand to think of those times. I certainly cannot write about them. And then, following those times, there was a seemingly endless stretch where I did not pray at all. For years.

Today, on this second Sunday of Advent, I’ve taken some time to examine Hope. I’ve poured over Isaiah 40:1-11, and from there I took a look at previous notes I’ve made about Hope, which brought me to Psalm 39. Which always, always, reminds me of Psalm 38, because of its proximity. But today, a fresh connection was made in my mind. And soul.

Psalm 38 is an agonizing Psalm. Psalm 39 is as well. Different from Psalm 38, and yet similar, too. And, here is something very interesting and what I saw for the first time today. Smack dab in the middle of both Psalms, lies hope. Bracketed on both sides by pain, the kernel–the core–is hope. Look first at Psalm 38:15:

But for you, O Lord, do I wait;
it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer.

Right there ensconced on all sides by pain (Vs. 1-14 and Vs. 16-22) is Advent. Right there, is longing. Waiting. Waiting for the only one who can answer.

Look secondly at Psalm 39:7:

“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in you.

Again, ensconced on all sides by pain (Vs. 1-6 and Vs.8-13) is Advent. Longing. Waiting. Hope found only in the God who answers, according to Psalm 38.

It’s hope that is encased in agony. In groanings. It’s a world, waiting for the birth of the Messiah.

But the birth of Jesus without the death of Jesus, is meaningless. His death for the forgiveness of our sins is what makes the hope–the longing, the waiting–so acute. We may not recognize it as such; however, it is there, in the waiting.

Astoundingly, even that is found in both of these wrenching Psalms.

Return to Psalm 38…to verse 18:

I confess my iniquity;
I am sorry for my sin.

I remember reaching these words in Psalm 38 and coming to a screeching halt. For many reasons, but mainly because I could not find a way around them. The need to confess sin. The need to be sorry for my sin, and not in a “sorry, not sorry” sort of way. Genuine repentance. Repentance that costs something. But I couldn’t pay for my sins, as much as I wanted to. As much as I tried to. I needed a Messiah. A baby, born as God in flesh, willing to lay down His life for me. For my salvation.

Now back to Psalm 39…to verse 8:

Deliver me from all my transgressions.

Deliver me yes, from the pain bracketing the hope. From the agony. But also from all my transgressions. For only then is hope realized. Fully.

Will He though? Will this God-child, this gift to mankind that we can not begin to understand, be able to accomplish the very thing that our sin-sick and weary souls long for?

The answer is found in the words of the prophet Isaiah, who foretold the coming birth of the only one who could provide that forgiveness. Who announced the coming Messiah. Spoken to Jerusalem, yes. True for us, yes. When we call upon His name. See these words here, in Isaiah 40:1-2:

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
    and cry to her
that her warfare^[a] is ended,
    that her iniquity is pardoned,
that she has received from the Lord‘s hand
    double for all her sins.

We are assured this in 1 John 1:9:

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness

This is wherein hope lies…a child, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. A child, who we are beckoned to gaze upon and live–“Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see; Hail the Incarnate Deity”. The one who would suffer, and die for the forgiveness of our sins, and then be raised again to return some day, to take us home. Home. The only one who sees and knows. The only one who can offer hope in the midst of our pain. The only one who can pardon our iniquities. The only one who can bridge the yawning gap in our souls.

I have stumbled upon a new song this Christmas season–one that my youngest girl and I will have the gift of sharing with our church this Christmas season. The words sum up entirely this hope and the lifting of our shame–the yoke of sin has been broken. He has pierced the night.

He Who Is Mighty (Sovereign Grace)

Oh, the mercy our God has shown
To those who sit in death’s shadow
The sun on high pierced the night
Born was the Cornerstone

Unto us a Son is given, unto us a Child is born

He Who is mighty has done a great thing
Taken on flesh, conquered death’s sting
Shattered the darkness and lifted our shame
Holy is His name

Oh, the freedom our Savior won
The yoke of sin has been broken
Once a slave, now by grace
No more condemnation

Now my soul magnifies the Lord
I rejoice in the God Who saves
I will trust His unfailing love
I will sing His praises all my days

December 1, 2014 By Shelly Durkee

Advent is for those who know and understand longing.

Which means, it is for all of us.

All of us long for something, even if we cannot put into words that which we long for. Or, maybe we do know what we long for…Peace. Healing. Comfort. For a prodigal child to return home. For an impossible situation to be resolved. Rest for the weary. Hope for the hopeless. We long for so much.

We long for home.

And that longing for home is embodied in the sense of anticipation we celebrate during the Advent season. We look towards the birth of Christ–that which has occurred already and which we celebrate anew in its arrival every year. But we cannot look towards His birth without also looking towards His death and resurrection–that which has occurred already and that which we long for in His return. Someday.

We long for His return when we long for all the things mentioned above–peace, healing, comfort–the list is long. We may not know that is what we long for, but it is.

It is. And we wait: eagerly and impatiently, quietly and noisily, in anticipating and in desperation.

We wait.

And so, it is fitting that we celebrate Advent from today through the next four weeks, eventually resulting in joyful celebration of that longing for a Messiah–a Savior–on Christmas day. It is not to be hurried. It is not to be rushed through. It is a season of anticipation–and, there is much to be learned in the anticipating. In the waiting.

Oh, I am like you. I don’t like to wait. I am impatient in my longing. In my waiting. I want peace–now. I want healing–now. I want comfort–now. And so many other things. So many other things. I wonder if that is why the verses in Isaiah 64 are included in a list of scriptures that are sometimes used for this first Sunday of Advent? I’m sure it is not, but still–I can’t think of any more appropriate words than these:

Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down,
    that the mountains might quake at your presence—
²as when fire kindles brushwood
    and the fire causes water to boil—
to make your name known to your adversaries,
    and that the nations might tremble at your presence!
³When you did awesome things that we did not look for,
    you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.

Do you hear the longing in these words? The desire to see God rend the heavens? The desire to see God?

That, my friends, is anticipation. That, my friends, is longing.

Oh, that we would know that kind of longing. But we do–we do know it! We know it each and every time our heart breaks over suffering in this fallen world! We know it each and every time our heart breaks over the sin we so easily fall to! We know it with each and every anxious prayer we utter–for our children, for our families, for our friends, and for our own souls! We know it each and every time we celebrate the Savior’s birth!

And, we know it each and every Resurrection Sunday–for all Sunday’s celebrate the resurrection of our Christ and point to His return.

Therefore, let us long with hope. Let us share that hope with the others. And let us take heed to the words in Mark 13:35-37–which are also common verses read on this first Sunday of Advent:

Therefore stay awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or in the morning— ³⁶lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. ³⁷And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake.”

Oh, how I long.

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Advent: HOPE

November 27, 2010 By Shelly Durkee

Advent season is here. It’s hard to believe that Christmas is only a month away.

This year for the first time, our family will be celebrating Advent together in our home. In preparation for that, I’ve written out this brief guide that we will use tomorrow, when we light the first (Hope) candle on our Advent Wreath.

Youngest Child lights the first (Purple) candle.

Oldest Child Reads Luke 1:26-38

Third Child reads Psalm 62:5

“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.”

Question: What is “Hope”?

After a few answers are shared, ask someone to look up “Hope” in the dictionary.

Question: What are some things you are hoping for? What if they don’t happen? What if they do happen?

Questions: In Psalm 62:5, who does the Psalmist say we are to hope for? And how are we to do this?

The verse says that our hope is from God. How is this hope different from the hopes we shared tonight?

What do you think it means to “wait in silence”?

Activity: Before the ending prayer, explain to the children that we are going to practice silence, and that after the prayer everyone is to get ready for bed silently. If it is too early for bedtime, then institute the “game” of being silent for one hour by choosing quiet activities such as reading or drawing.

Third Child Reads Prayer

God, we are thankful that you give us hope through the birth of Jesus.

While there are many things that we hope for, please help us know that our real hope is both in and from you God.

Teach us what “waiting in silence” for God means.

Amen