For the first time in my adult life, I find myself churchless. I didn’t realize this until I was at a conference, and they asked me about my church home. I didn’t have an answer. What a strange and lonely feeling!
The last two months have been some of the hardest in ministry. Three months ago, Chris and I were extremely excited about where we were in life and college ministry. We experienced the biggest, number-wise, freshman attendees we’ve ever had. Our church had a young, new pastor whom we were eager to work with. COVID was part of the past. And we were excited about the future of our church and ministry.
Then, everything changed.
Due to details, I will not share (it’s not the point of this post), Chris resigned in November. It’s been two months of conflicting emotions: anger/revelation, despair/hope, bondage/freedom, and grief/joy. The strangest emotion is realizing that, for the first time, we are not married to a church calendar. Normally, December is full of parties and church events, all intertwined with carving out time for our family.
However, not this year.
This year our calendar is clear. We are not obligated to attend meetings, events, church services, or parties. It is strange to look at our calendar and see white space. But…isn’t that how it should be every year? The American Christmas season has turned into one of the busiest times of the year. We have to buy for this person, bake this cake, decorate this cookie, go to this event, and with the leftovers, we celebrate the Savior. Sadly, the church is rarely different from the world. In the past, Chris and I felt compelled to make sure we helped others have a “good Christmas,” and we forgot to wonder and savor the advent of Christ.
This year is a different kind of Christmas season.
I still feel the tension of thinking I should be busy doing and making something, going somewhere, and organizing events. However, God is teaching me (though it feels more like forcing me) to be still. I do not have to have every weekend filled with something to “help” me celebrate Christ’s birth. It’s no longer my responsibility to organize activities to point others to Christ’s advent. It’s not my responsibility to…
Instead, God has provided me with a season of rest. A season of waiting. A season of hope. A season of wonder. He’s provided me with a different kind of Christmas season. It’s a season of Advent where I anticipate celebrating the birth of my Savior and looking to the future of His second coming.
I do not know what our life will look like a year from now. We may be back on church staff, or we may be doing something completely different. But, in the meantime, I will wait…and rest. I will take advantage of this Christmas season and regain the wonder of waiting for Christ’s birth.
