Waiting as a heart posture
by Wes Lambert
This Advent season is particularly literal for me as we expect our first child this upcoming March. My wife is slowing down. For all the ways I am trying to act like things are normal, I'm learning to recalibrate my understanding and go at a slower pace. But waiting is vulnerable. As Richard Rohr says, “it's the things we can't do anything about (the helpless things) and the things we can't do anything with (the useless things) that bring the deepest change in us.”
From an unexpected, more or less divine command of birthing the son of God to long, grueling journeys for a census while being pregnant, to the physical birthing of Jesus, I imagine Mary and Joseph felt hopeless and useless at times, yet trusted they were being changed in the process. Later, Jesus’ ministry was such that it didn't seem to have a rhyme or reason. The disciples were constantly confused and wondering about what was next and what it all meant. For someone trying to save the world, he sure didn’t seem like he was in a hurry or pressured to explain it all.
We don't just wait with the expectation of something to come. We also wait with the trust that something is already here, yet, slowly revealing itself in due time. Our deepest longings within us that cry out with the question “How long will we wait?” are met with the deepest satisfaction of Jesus in and as the waiting itself. We often ask the question “Are we there yet?” when Jesus is often asking us, “Are you here now?”
There’s a song by Hillsong that says, “You could have saved us in a second but instead you sent a child.” To me, this shows how Jesus went through the entire process of humanity from birth until death. He even subjected himself to all the processes and systems that we complain about! Rules, hierarchies, red tape. He didn't submit to those things as final truth, but he honored them as necessary developmental processes. Luke 2:52 says, “Jesus grew in wisdom and stature.” We don’t like to admit that we follow a God who bypassed completeness for the sake of relationship and connection in the process.
In Luke 18, a beggar is told that Jesus is coming down the road and cries out for salvation. “Jesus stood still and he asked him,‘What do you want me to do for you?’ He said, ‘Lord, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him.”
We are all blind and in need of saving. Many voices in our lives try to drown us out and keep us quiet. But God hears us. He stops and instead of just doing something, he asks us questions. He helps us be present to ourselves and the states of our hearts. This blind man had waited years to be healed, you’d think that Jeus would just heal him as an obvious action. But God is more concerned with us understanding and knowing his love than he is just giving us what we want. The man asked for physical sight but just like many Bible stories, the physical is symbolic. The man could see again in every sense of the word. This seeing allowed him to then follow Jesus.
We often wait, blinded and helplessly wondering if we’ll ever be saved. Death, illness, loss and hardship can feel overwhelming and absolute. Jesus, meets us where we are and hears our cries. He meets us in the waiting and waits. He heals us, delivers us and restores us to be able to follow him.
As we come to the end of this Advent season, try practices that help you patiently trust and be present to the process. From giving to those in need to having more days of rest, to more daily moments of silence and stillness, we all need constant interruptions that slow us down and help us not get too far ahead.
Just like God walked with Adam and did not run. We must learn to go at the pace of God. Out of our fear and insecurities, we tend to stay back and hide or rush ahead to lead. Let us learn to be step in step just like Mary did with the donkey, all the way to Bethlehem. All the way to our own birthing of God in and with us, Emmanual. Not knowing exactly where to go but always being sure of where we’re at and Who is with us on the journey.
Wes is a writer, psychotherapist and spiritual director focused on male development and contemplative spirituality. He and his wife live in Medford and are expecting their first son this spring.