I wrote this post during Holy Week 2013. I figured the theme of waiting and hope was appropriate for the Advent season, too. Enjoy this blast from the past!
Today is Palm Sunday. Today is the day I check off one of the risks I said I’d do long ago and finally made a commitment to when Donald Miller dared us all to do 5 things we were afraid to fail this week: start my own blog.
So on this day, when we remember as a church when Jesus made his “triumphant” (or anti-triumphant, if you really think about it) entry into Jerusalem, and we begin to journey through the pain and tension of Holy Week, we also ponder this question: What are we waiting for?
I pondered this between 9 and 9:30 this morning, after we had set up for worship at Court Square Theater, and as the band practiced their songs for the morning. I’m not gonna lie; my ponderings weren’t on dreams of ending hunger, achieving world peace, or anything focused outwardly.
I was thinking about my own pain, my own fears, and the deep dark depths of my soul.
Anxiety can be crippling to live with on a day to day basis. Some days are great, others are just ok, and a few reduce me to a vegetative state in which TV, music, and movies are needed to numb my mind from the white noise of worries that run through all day. Since writing is among my favorite forms of therapy and self-soothing, I grabbed a RISE bulletin and wrote what weighed down my heart and mind today. And here’s what I came up with:
I’m waiting for peace, patience, joy, confidence, identity. I’m waiting for me to come back. I’m waiting for transition to turn into character, to a sense of self. I’m waiting for calm and quiet and excitement and growth. I’m waiting to be happy to be me, whoever she is. I’m waiting to be heard and seen for who I am, all I am. I’m waiting for my fear to make way for my life, for hope, love, joy, and peace, to make way for me to burst forth. I’m waiting for the voices of guilt, shame, fear, and mistrust to quiet down, so the voices that are really me can speak up and be heard, listened to, understood, acted on. I’m waiting to be born again into hope, so I can die to my own strangling fears.
In short, I’m waiting for…my soul to break through my fear.
As a faith community, RISE is wrestling with this question this week as part of The Ellipsis Experiment (http://storiesandvoices.com/post/45893346395/the-ellipsis-experiment). As a community, we are learning together what we are waiting for as we journey through this week of tension, pain, and eventually resurrection. We are not just skipping to Resurrection Sunday; we are walking with Jesus through service, pain, the tension of waiting, and the joy in the hope that death is not the end.
Friends, will you also join me? What are you waiting for?