It feels in many ways like we just began 2013, yet in so many others, January seems ancient in my memory. Such is true of life in general I suppose; the days are long but the years are short. Most of us tend to assess a year as we approach the end of it, and this year is no exception for me. It marked many firsts, a couple lasts (which are harder than the firsts), many lessons learned, and even more, new questions raised. And now it’s Thanksgiving, which means December will be here immediately after we eat our weight in food, and 2014 will be upon us right after we blink.
And suddenly I’m sensing a strong need to be still. Not a “I’m tired and I need rest” kind of still, but rather a, “Amy, be still” kind of needing to be still. There’s a difference.
I have sat down at my computer more times than you might believe to write, and I intently watch that blinking cursor and white screen. It feels more like a threatening, ticking bomb, than it does a blank canvas of possibility; and something is whispering the obvious… that that is wrong. Especially for a girl who is a teacher and a writer, and especially for a girl who knows this blog has been of God’s making from the very beginning.
A wise friend and mentor emailed me from across the ocean yesterday morning and advised, “I would suggest, with all sincerity, that you take an absolute total COMPLETE break from now until end of the Christmas holiday.” His words were the megaphone reinforcing the whisper I was already hearing. So I’m choosing to make December still, which in and of itself is more evidence of God’s irony. December is never still, but it will be for me this year. I need to time to pray. Time to breath. Time to think. Time to consider. Time to be present. Time to thank Him for letting His Son leave heaven for my sake. I want to ponder the magnitude and weight of those last moments in heaven before He left the Father’s presence, what it must have been like! I want time to appreciate that price He paid.
I want time to wrestle Paul’s desire, which my heart echoes and longs:
I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3: 10-14
Somehow, the pressing on to take hold of that which Jesus took hold of me, means I am to be still for now. It comes at a cost though, I will miss this place, I will miss you. I’m entrusting all of that into His care and presence, and I hope to be back in yours in 2014. Much love in Him.