I remember that time, when we went to a live outdoor nativity around the corner from our parents’ houses. I remember walking around in the crisp cool night’s air. I remember taking turns holding our daughter and then watching my husband hold her, as we walked along with our little family, and my in-laws. We all marveled at the scenes, the twinkling lights, the real people and mostly pretend animals.
As we progressed along the path, anticipation grew, until we eventually got to the last scene. (Which, really was just the beginning.)
The part where Mary and Joseph were there, by the manger with baby Jesus.
Mary had just delivered a promise, the angels were around her, singing.
That night, in that space, had a different journey. My body started delivering a different promise, not into life, but instead, into the hands of God.
Somehow, reflexively, maybe, or timing, maybe providence, while watching this advent, my body began the long awaited process of miscarriage.
(I know this seems a funny story to share. And in fact I hesitate in some ways. But I share because I know someone might be there right now -in a story like this. or worse than this- somehow, someway, too.)
Some might wonder at the irony, the timing, the discomfort and loss at the nativity scene. But isn’t that the whole point?
Sometimes advent- His coming- can look like something coming to an end. Maybe it feels like your own dreams. Or even His. There are a lot of ways that a dream can die.
But hold on.
I want you to know that you’re not alone. That Christ is there too.
At the very same little corner church, that very same night, while my journey started towards one loss, my heart had a different one, too.
See, after we finished outside and headed inside I ran into a friend from high school.
This outstanding man, with the same quiet strength that he’d always possessed, had recently buried his wife -at Christmas time, no less, a few years earlier. I’d been to the funeral, the church decked out in its festive holiday finery and I and many cried their eyes out. The loss earthside felt thick, even while the gain of heaven caused for much celebration. The weight of a life well- lived, for God’s glory, hung heavy and great in the room. The baby girl she died delivering brought both a sense of great hope and great loss. all tangled up together
Here now he was, a couple of years later while I was holding one child and loosing another. He stood before me with his two kids and not his wife, and I wondered how he was doing, how he was standing.
I am tempted to say it was a painful reminder of loss. And it was. But it was also a palpable reminder of Hope.
It’s almost as if the loss I was carrying responded to the loss that he had carried too.
But with Hope.
While my heart ached for his, I could even almost see what any of us could lose, were maybe were even loosing. I felt the pangs of mine own, yet they lessened and eased for a moment. They’d ebb and flow later. But a wave came in that night air, that had nothing to do with the cold. I saw what he still held, and what held him. Christ. And the Hope in me leapt, even as part of me died.
I remembered in my bones, that Christ came, and none of us ever have to be alone, again.
It tempered the feelings of agony, there just a stones throw away from the manger. I could palpably feel tender Hope-eternal. My friend and I, I could see, were both still surrounded by His overshadowing grace. As I began a walk through a valley of a shadow of my own, I knew I could get to the other side.
I hugged my husband a little tighter, leaned in to the family that surrounded me. Even as my body suffered a loss, my heart gained by remembering what it still had. The children there with us, the family right beside us. There would be new lives and loves later, for both families. New additions, quite impossible without the losses.
But right there in that Christmas scene there was hope.
Every Christmas story has its own share of discomfort or questions, “could this possibly be it?” Not everything is the way that we planned it or hoped for or even expected. But everything happens for this reason. To birth something new in you.
I just want you to know, whether you’re in season of Hope or birth, loss or gain, mourning or dancing, you’re not alone. Because that baby who came in humility and humanity, He is there- for you.
Advent comes, CHRIST comes, surrounded by some unpleasant circumstances or unforeseen obstacles.
He comes to grieving hearts and aching minds. He comes when you can’t see up from down, right from wrong. He comes in the middle of the night. when you’re all alone or smudged in a messy middle, wondering what happened, where your dreams went and disappeared to. He still comes. That Christ child. He still comes. For you.
And as annoying or crazy as it sounds, I can’t shake the feeling of this.. remember to look around, and see the love that surrounds you now. The friends, family, angels and miracles that surround you there right now. Still, just a stones throw away from grief and mangers, hope above hope He still comes.
I’ve been thinking a lot this advent about how Christ slipped into the world mostly unnoticed. How He came to be, cloaked in darkness, in a womb of a woman who couldn’t see or understand. There were no ultrasounds that confirmed it, not pictures that showed His baby frame. She carried a promise that no one understood. When He was born most people didn’t even hear the news or know of His advent. His birth. His coming. I mentioned that to my kids on a night walk recently, looking at Christmas lights and enjoying the season. “When Jesus came and was born that night, practically no one knew it.” Everything had changed, but Most people didn’t know yet.
His family welcomed him of course. The angels rejoices. We know the shepherds had heard the good news. The wise men had noticed something, wondered and wandered, to find him later, too. (Their journey actually took a while.)
“I wonder if the animals really knew when they looked at Him. Do you think they sensed it?” I wondered aloud a different time, at the kitchen sink this time.
Who else? The inn keeper? Not likely. It’s possible though.
Herod heard. He heard and he hated the thought of him. He waged a war and raged against this baby. A baby that might usurp him.
Did anyone else sense this change, this advent, this coming? There may have been some stray characters that knew or saw or sensed.
Did anyone hear the angels sing, only to dismiss it because it “couldn’t be”. “Everyone must have seen the giant star of Bethlehem! It was huge,” the kids exclaimed another time. They’re probably right. Many probably saw it. But did those that did know what it meant when they saw it? Later, perhaps?
When He was born there was no crown on His head. When He died there appeared to be a crown of shame there instead. From His birth to His death, there were people who saw Him, some who recognized Him, those who misunderstood Him, and some people missed Him altogether.
The thought is so…. amazing.
Because it begs the question. What do I? Do I hear the sings of advent that are around me? Do I hear what heaven says, what a song of redemption it sings? Of Love come? Do I see the light that is shining so brightly in the darkness? Or is it all lost in the dull quiet of day or the monotony of just another endless night sky? Do I notice?
Do I hear His coming, do I honor His birth? Do I see this mystery, while a sleeping world looks the other way? Am I awake enough to know? That THIS is the life that changed everything. That Christ indeed was born. And that here, in the stable of my heart, in the manger of my mind, my whole life comes to stand before him. And then what? What does one do in response to that kind of love?
That’s entirely up to you. Wise men still search Shepherds still bow. Angels still sing. There are gifts to bring. The best gift is you.
Ever think about Joseph much? I have a lot lately. What it must have been like, to be the one not to carry the dream, but to help care for the one who does. Mary held the promised baby, but Joseph had a specific important role to play. It was a supporting role, but a very crucial one.
God let Joseph in on the plans, they were so good. But he must have doubted or questioned at times. (“What am I doing here?”). He must have worried. He must have heard what the people all said. The whispers, the stares, and probably flat out accusations.
And yet. He never let go. He never wavered from the path. He may have come close a time or two, wandering away for a night, troubled, wrestling, many a day. We don’t know.
But when it came time for the dream to come to life, Joseph was there. When it was time to travel to a new-old place, which probably didn’t make much sense to them at such a time. Yet it was predestined to be the ultimate destination for that moment, Joseph was there. Joseph was there as they traveled. Joseph was there as they couldn’t get a room. Joseph was there, by Mary’s side- it maybe a little ahead, or maybe even dragging his feet, though by this point I probably doubt it. He was guiding Mary to a safe place to have her baby, even as they both were being guided to the right exact place.
He was the one by her side as she labored, the one who wiped her brow, eased her worries, and tried not to be consumed by his own. Joseph, the carpenter not-quite-father, yet father, chosen. An unlikely doula. An ultimate dream catcher.
Ever thought about that? I think of my own husband by my side during labor. Being my side during a lot of things. Of his care and support. Priceless, important, of immeasurable value, at every turn. Though, I’m pretty sure he was glad to not be the only one in the room when our children were born. He was still the one that mattered most.
Joseph’s role is an unmistakably vital one.
There is a lot of life,- people, plans, dreams- that take a Mary to carry it. Every person, every promise, every dream needs a spiritual womb and a real heartbeat to bring it to life. When it comes to dreams, it is not always a physical gender that matters, but a spiritual element. There are just as many Josephs needed, to walk alongside in support. Joseph’s are ones who may not carry the “baby”, but they support the one who does. They carry hope, these Josephs, if not the promise itself. In carrying that hope, waiting for something that they know is going to come, the are helping bring it to life. In their belief, their position, they are guarding it. They are guarding that new life.
Josephs are guardians TO a promise-holder. And to a promise itself. They are a keepers of dreams. Sometimes, many dreams. You might be a Joseph to someones “be it unto me”, Mary moment.
Every dream is a baby coming to be. Every baby is a dream coming to be. Every dream needs to be born through a person. Every person in delivery needs real, true support.
Maybe you’re that kind of Joseph to someone else’s. To their dream, to new life. A bearer of Hope, yourself. Just by proximity and care. Don’t stop. The world needs you, the important part you have to play.
We all need more Joseph’s. We need a spirit of Joseph to flood the earth, with Hope. To protect the promises. To forget their own worries and help ease another’s. To wipe that brown, and breathe together through the pain. To be a doula through transition, someone who can advocate for Nary in her pain. Who stands beside her, behind her. With her. And someone who is there to catch, and receive, that promise. Who will look into the eyes of new life, and to welcome it with open hearts and arms.
Guardians of destinies and dreams. Protectors of Life. Fathers to all of God’s children, to every dream carried that’s about to come true. Josephs that stand by Mary’s side and enable her, in the best possible way, to give birth to new life. Guardian of God’s dreams. Doula to new life, To new promises- the ones no one knows or sees or understands yet. Carriers of covenant. Warriors for family. Firm in faith even in opposition. Unwavering. Builders. Of life.
The Old Testament and Psalms and prophets are full of what sounds like the booming voice of the Lord. Mountains tremble, waters roars, the ground shakes and swells. His voice booms over the waters. Yes, there is an impressive tone to many of the Psalms- a raging God, a humbled man. I actually love them. But sometimes we start to think He only will come with a mighty, thundering fist. I think He could and can and has and probably will again. Yet.
Then I think to when He did come, in a stable, quietly, as a baby. How he slipped in, like a whisper. When most people weren’t watching, while the whole world was looking the other way, and hardly anybody noticed that everything important had suddenly changed.
Sure- of course- Mary knew enough as she labored, and Joseph knew as he wiped her brow and tried not to worry himself. The shepherded knew when the angel came, bringing good news. (They and their sheep were subsequently treated to a feast for the senses, with more angels filling the sky and signing glory to God. )
But did anyone else know? Did they hear the thunder of change as God came down to earth, as Love was born a man? Who knew it? Who could know it? He came in less like thunder and more like a whisper.
How often does He come first to us like that, with a whisper? I think of Mary, for whom God had already come nine months earlier. When no one else was watching, an angel visited her and a royal invitation was extended, To be a part of something grand. Then God came to Joseph in a dream, to let him in on this wild plan. Often the first moments, He is gentle and private, speaking just to you and your heart. When no one else is watching or listening.
How many times has He come and invited us to something?
Have you been invited to come close to Him? You have. Have you been invited to come and sit with Him, to dine at His table? You have. Have you been invited to hold onto a promise, to hold some seed of Hope? You have. Have you been invited to your own destiny, to bring the hope of heaven to earth, His love to bear? You have.
While it was only a whisper, when you do hear it, it thunders in your heart. It moved the mountains that it found there, it swelled and stirred the waters of your very being. Your heart trembled And yet.
While it was only a whisper, Did you say yes? Did you believe?
Then, did you ever stop?
Waiting for the promise to come and be seen, it can take a very long time. You wonder if you misheard, if it was really true, what you thought you heard. Imagine Joseph, having to face the inquiries, having to travel, awaiting a birth of some baby he couldn’t probably understand. Imagine Mary, holding the blooming promise in her belly, and wondering what it even means. Even as she delivers it- delivers Him!- she couldn’t have grasped it all. Imagine the shepherds, after seeing the angels. Now, having to walk in order to see, having to trek across the dark, rugged hills, on sandaled feet. In the dark, trying find what they were looking for, what those angels were singing about. They might have wondered after the shining light subsided, after the curtain of heaven was pulled back and the miraculous images absorbed back into a dark night sky. They must have.
Because every promise that comes as a whisper must be walked out on the quiet road, in between ears that roar with questions. In a heart that blooms with hopeful anticipation, that beats rapidly in wonder. Every. Single. One.
Perhaps, maybe, the thundering of when God comes is the hammering of a heart beating wildly in your chest with faith and not yet understanding? Is it the sound of feet walking toward their destiny? Even while they look completely regular, like a normal, humble shepherd stumbling in the dark. Or a carpenter of a husband leading his wife to bring new life? Or the woman about to birth a baby who was a promise to the whole world?
Yes, in part at least it has to be, that the thundering is a heart who has heard. Who now walks, and carries a promise that is connected to His heartbeat. A heart that believes and sees with the eyes of faith, and who believes enough to go, and do something that was asked of them. Something that might seem insignificant, but will lead to something of greater importance than they yet even understand.
Yes, the thundering is our heart beating, our hearts beating with Love. For what we have seen and heard, echoing back to the Father’s heart. The Creator of this world, the Author of our hearts. Who has come, and who is coming, and who, inexplicably, has come up behind us, whispered in our soul’s ears, and invited us to something. Immanuel, God with us, who invited us to come alongside Him, and to be a part of what He’s doing. Who invited us to say yes. Who extended to us an invitation to be a part, humbly and amazedly, with what He’s doing now. Whatever that will look like. The mind can’t yet conceive it. But your heart can. And in that heart it can be brought to bear, born to life.
“Be it into me”, even when we don’t understand.
God, who uses the foolish things to confound the wise, uses our humbled, distracted lives, our limited understanding, our feeble minds and earthly bodies- to carry hope we could never quite fully understand. To carry Truth we can’t fully grasp. To declare what God has done, and what God is yet going to do.
My heart thunders “yes”. Does yours? Let that yes be your gift before Him now, oh, wise man. Let your thundering heart be His.
My mom “taught” me how to walk as a young kid. She took me along on walks after work and school. As a single mom this was her exercise, and there weren’t many options.
We’d circle the town, I’d hold my breath by the funeral homes, and we’d try to get home by dark. One time we found even our wild cat joined and walked with us for a stretch. I’d talk her ear to death, or at least probably exhaustion. She was patient with my childhood shenanigans. We’d have quiet silence too. It was home. Home on four feet.
I see that it taught me a lot of things, without really trying.
The beauty of Motion.
The importance of a soul to find Rest.
Family connection and a heart to find home no matter where you are.
Walking is the simplest purest form of exercise. It’s low entry, it gets your mind active and your body. It helps you notice the world around you, and the elevated heart rate can relax your weary, anxious heart, too. It’s a mystery, this walking thing.
We’re invited to walk with God, too. Like Enoch did. To walk with the Lord in “the cool of the day”, like in the garden. To walk when life feels very uncool, or very hot. To walk for a new perspective, to relieve stress. To know we never walk alone.
Here, kinda grown up, as a mom now myself, I find I’m walking a lot. Another “home”. I walk in the day, I walk in the morning. I pray and walk. I walk by myself and yet sometimes invite others to join me. My kids, my friends, my husband. Literally and figuratively.
I even walk at night now. Unlike the little girl, though, I’m not afraid of the dark anymore. Or the things that a funeral home signals. Which is funny because I know more now then I knew then, and not all of it good, either. The vain imaginations of childhood have been debunked, replaced, and sometimes even confirmed.
But yet. I know my Father more too. That makes the world of difference. I know I’m not alone.
So here I am still walking, with a Parent. At home, in motion, with four feet. Sometimes so silent and still, always so seen and accepted. He puts up with my shenanigans too. He replaces them with peace, when I let Him. When I hand things over, I’m given better in return. Always. Still talking a lot sometimes. Now, though, talking things ….to life…. ❤️
And the think I love about this walking, this walking with love?
Anyone can do it. It’s a simple exercise. Everyone’s invited to this walk of walk of love, life, knowledge, connection. Anyone. Everyone.
In normal, everyday life we need some directions. In current life, lately, we seem to need even more. More choices, more situations. The stakes are higher, the possible repercussions seem even more dastardly, especially if we look at the news. Needing direction, we often ask for directions. We research, look for options, ask questions, find opinions. “What should I do?!” We ask ourselves, and each other, at night, in the morning, as we go along on our way. What we’re really after, though, is direction.
That’s why I love this verse.
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.””
Isaiah 30:21
This verse is so beautiful and so necessary when we’re looking for truth and wisdom. We will hear a voice behind us telling us which way to go, what to do.
What does it sound like, you ask? It sounds like an awful lot of different things. It might be an actual voice you hear. Or it might not. It might be a feeling, it may be a knowing, a sense of urgency. Maybe it’s an imploring, a deep a sense of unsettledness. But if it’s truly coming from God, it will come with an overwhelming sense of peace. Not that you will only feel peace. You will feel a lot of things. But peace can be the undercurrent. It comes with the territory when you listen to His voice.
We just need ears to hear it. To listen. Which starts, often, with the asking. Remembering to ask for His guidance, we will surely get it. Sometimes remembering can feel like the hardest part.
That was me recently. It was something so small, so little, I won’t even go into the details. Even though I hemmed and hawed over it, it was so little that I forgot to ask for direction. But later, after I decided and moved forward, I felt very troubled and unsettled. It wasn’t just feedback that I had gotten or any consequence of any action that I could see, everything seemed fine. But it was a feeling that came, and I knew something was wrong. I wrestled in quiet and sought clarity. I realized that I had relied on my own judgement alone, I had weighed the situation according to what I knew, I leaned into a little fear, and I forgot to ask for direction from Him. Woah. It sounds so simple, but it is so pivotal to following God. And I had forgotten.
Well, when you put it that way… I better keep asking.
Now, if you keep reading the scripture, you’ll see something I hadn’t seen before, until a few days ago. But boy is it good. Because, Yes, you will hear a voice when you ask. But then what? The next part shows what walking in faith really looks like.
“Then you will destroy all your silver idols and your precious gold images. You will throw them out like filthy rags, saying to them, “Good riddance!””
Isaiah 30:22
Gold and silver destroyed? What does that mean?
It means you stop trusting in anything more than you trust God.
You choose to stop trusting your safety blankets, your decisions, your process or your ways. Yes, we can think and decipher and seek wisdom. But above all of it, if we’re asking for His guidance, we might have to throw some of those things in the fire. It’s what I didn’t do the other day. And it troubled me. Oh boy, it troubled me. Because as “right” or as justified as I had been in my thinking, I had questioned and yet forgotten to ask the question to the Lord, “Which way should I go?” I had forgotten God, forgotten to invite Him into the equation, and forgotten to ask HIM the question. And if that’s not idolatry, personally, I don’t know what is.
This isn’t to be legalistic or cast shame on anyone else. But if I say I want Him to lead me, I want Him to use me, and I’m not even consulting Him, and instead, I’m leading with and leaning on my own understanding, then what am I even doing? ‘Is that walking in faith’, I stopped to wonder, and before I even could answer, knew in my heart already the answer.
This time is an invitation to mankind for more faith. And if we decide to walk in faith, and trust God MORE, we must ask for *His* guidance AND listen to His voice. To trust God above EVERYTHING- our ideas, our comforts. Because He’s trustworthy. Because everything else is worthless rags, everything else is trusting in idols.
“Throw it in the fire!” (I know that sounds wild. But that’s how I felt the other day. Have you ever felt like that? Then keep reading!)
Use your resources, but don’t forget the ultimate source, God Himself.
There may be fears that come, in fact, it’s likely they will. You might feel inner and outer resistance- coming from your own fear or the world and theirs. But fear was never intended to be your guide. We get to decide to Whose voice we listen to.
With our calculations we think too far down the path, and we feel anxiety. Uncertainty. But how could we not feel those things. That path is unknown to us, so obviously there is hesitation and trepidation. But. If you know that voice, if you know Who it is asking you to walk through it, you can “be not afraid.” The one who called you is faithful.
You don’t have to figure out the path before you can decide to go. That’s what faith is all about. You don’t have to figure it out as a prerequisite for going. You have to trust the one who called you.
Then the last part of that verse is this.
“Then He will give you rain for your seed which you will sow in the ground, and bread from the yield of the ground, and it will be rich and plentiful; on that day your livestock will graze in a wide pasture.”
Isaiah 30:23
What does this mean? When you do what it is you believe He is telling you, when you cast off the idols and things that would hold you back from following the voice, there is a blessing of obedience, an abundance that comes, even when you least expect it. Faith is rewarded in heaven. Faith God’s currency, and when you follow it, there will be goodness that follows you, His goodness. His faithfulness will be your shield, it will follow you wherever you go. When you know it, you know that is enough. But don’t be surprised when the blessings don’t stop there. “I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor their children begging for bread.” “The righteous man lives by faith.”
Now listen, there will be plenty people that don’t understand, that will think you’ve gone off your rocker, or are going off the deep end. It’s okay. Faith is so contrary to the way the world does most things. It’s not for the faint of heart. It looks like crazy, but it feels like ultimate peace. It might look desperate, but you e been desperate. Desperate is looking for something and never finding it. Faith is knowing you have.
However crazy it might sound or look to the outside world or to your mind, when you know what faith is asking you to do, you know that’s the way you must go. We might take a while to process or embrace things. We might be a quick jumper. However long it takes us to finally decide to follow, there is a blessing waiting, an abundance God has prepared. Many of us get stuck in the middle there, wrestling between listening to God and holding on to our idols, and when we do, we’re missing out. We can find the better things He has prepared for us, we only need to trust Him and go after it.
I’ve gotta back peddle for a minute here. The verse before all of this? Before asking, and throwing off idols, and walking into greater blessings? It’s Isaiah 30:20. “Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them.”
Sometimes it takes adversity at first, for us to start asking those questions. the right ones especially. It takes trouble for us to start seeing our real need and where we’re really wanting. In affliction and trouble, we begin to look beyond our idols, and ourselves, and see where we’ve come up short. It is then that we can really see what it is that we need. And it is then that we can walk into greater faith and abundance than we ever have before.
So let this troubling time be a reminder. Not to doubt, or to double down on yourself, but to lean in. To trust God. Then you’ll get to see all that He has prepared for you, the good path you’re meant to be on. It sometimes takes a broken road to get back on the right one anyway.
Even when it doesn’t make sense. Even if we’re afraid. Once you know the way you’re meant to go, go. Cast aside all of that rubbish, as many times as necessary, and keep walking.
Too many good things are waiting for us. Praying this becomes more true for you, for all of us. Hear the voice behind you. Throw aside the idols. Keep going. And see the goodness that He has prepared for you. Now, go!
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love. 