christmas

Let us lean on Mary’s faith and faithfulness

It is not always easy to know where God is leading us. Sometimes he gives us clear signs and guidance, but other times we have to discern our course with little to no clarity at all. We must always rely on faith to bring us through whatever decisions we are making, but in these latter instances, where the path ahead is dark and confusing, we must rely upon it entirely. 

I often think about the story of the angel Gabriel visiting Mary in Luke 1:26-38. Imagine what Mary must have thought and felt during and after this encounter. Gabriel shows up out of nowhere and tells her not to be afraid, and that she, a virgin, has found favor with God, is going to be impregnated by the Holy Spirit, will give birth to a son whom she will name Jesus, and that Jesus will be the Son of God whose kingdom will never end. 

If that encounter wasn’t confusing or shocking enough, after Mary says (paraphrasing), “Okay. I’ll do whatever God wants me to do,” Gabriel just vanishes. He gives her no further instructions. He tells her nothing of what to expect or how to handle any of the trials and tribulations she will face, and he doesn’t say a word about what Jesus’s life or his death will be like. He simply disappears and is never seen or heard from by Mary again. 

With only that to work with, Mary has to figure out how to raise the Son of God. Of course, God is there through all of it and he provides her what she needs to do his work, but all she really had to go on was her faith, and it was enough. Our Heavenly Father tells and shows us over and over again that our faith is always enough. Like Gabriel said to Mary, “[We need] not be afraid… [for we] have found favor with God (Luke 1:30, NIV).”

The Lord will always guide us through fear, confusion, and darkness, but, like Mary, we must first put our faith in his word. While at first she is frightened by Gabriel’s greeting and questions how she is going to give birth to a son when she is a virgin, Mary never protests further (Luke 1:29 & 34). She simply trusts the will of God and, after hearing what Gabriel has to say, responds by saying, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled (Luke 1:38).”

We should all pray to have faith as strong and steadfast as Mary’s. It isn’t easy. Life is full of all sorts of obstacles, trials, and difficult decisions. But if we are honest with ourselves, is God ever really asking more from us than he asked from Mary? Are our trials greater than hers? Is our cross heavier than the one she carried or the one she watched her son carry and die on? Likely not. 

So we can use Mary as an example of what our faith should look like. In times of trouble, confusion, or darkness, we can lean on Mary’s faith and her faithfulness, and know that God is with us, that even if we cannot hear his voice or see his face, that he has a plan for us and that it is good.

When we stand at the precipice, too afraid or uncertain to go forward, let us use Mary as inspiration and say, “I am your servant, Lord. Not my will, but yours be done,” and then let us step forth into the darkness, for we know that the Lord our God “rewards those who earnestly seek him (Hebrews 11:6).” 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Snowmen aren’t forever

As we were coming home this evening after a long day of church and youth wrestling, my daughter and I noticed that the snowman she built earlier this week had started to melt. It still has its general shape and the sticks she used for arms are still there, but it is a smaller, less distinguished version of itself, and its holly-leaf eyes and nose are gone. “Awww,” she said, “My snowman is melting. I worked so hard on him.” 

“Sadly dear, nothing in this world lasts forever,” I told her, “So we have to appreciate them while they are here.” “But daddy,” she replied, “I saw a sign the other day that said, ‘Presidents are temporary. Wu-Tang is forever.'” I grew up listening to the hip hop group Wu-Tang Clan so I couldn’t help but to laugh when I heard this.

“That’s just hyperbole, dear,” I said, “Wu-Tang is not really forever any more than your snowman is.” “What’s hyperbole?” she asked. “It’s an exaggeration,” I told her, “but its an exaggeration not meant to be taken seriously. It’s a joke. Wu-Tang Clan has been making music for over thirty years, but, like your snowman, they aren’t forever. Only God is forever.” 

Now, I realize that this is too much for a nine-year-old to fully comprehend. Honestly, the concepts of transience and eternity are too much for any of us to fully comprehend. However, I don’t think it’s a conversation that should be avoided. Our time here is extremely short and our time with our children is even shorter. What good does it do to withhold the most important conversations about the most important subjects from them? 

Of course, I want my daughter to enjoy her childhood and to be a kid for as long as she can be a kid, but I also want her to know that there is more to life than simply what she sees and feels. My hope is that, by understanding just how impermanent her snowman, or Wu-Tang Clan, is, that she appreciates it even more while it lasts. 

Her experience of building that particular snowman in that particular moment was truly one of a kind. It never happened before and will never happen again. Her sadness in seeing it melt is real and it should be acknowledged as such. If she cared about what she created, of course there is some grief in its passing, even if it is just a snowman. This sense of loss is real and it will not be the last time she experiences it. 

But I don’t think God created this world of impermanence simply for us to exist in a perpetual state of sadness, grief, and loss. Rather, the fact that we live in an ever-changing world where everything that is born eventually dies and everything that is built eventually crumbles should make us appreciate the preciousness of each and every moment, experience, and interaction as the amazing gift that it is. Furthermore, this experience of impermanence calls us to go deeper, to seek or settle into that which does not change, does not die, and does not pass away (Malachi 3:6). 

Like my daughter’s snowman, “Everything around us is going to melt away, (2 Peter 3:11).” So our task, it seems, is to cherish our time here as much as possible without clinging to it. As St. Francis of Assisi said, we are to “wear this world like a loose garment.” But we are called to do so while loving so deeply that, through our example, others may also come to know the constancy of God’s eternity through Christ Jesus (John 13:34-35). 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Finding God’s purpose in a snowstorm

As the snow began to fall, I grew increasingly anxious. The feeling of inevitability settled upon me like a heavy weight being laid upon my chest. My mind raced in denial as my schedule, my plans, and my desires for the coming day and an unknown number of days to follow began to slowly disappear with each falling flake. Then the messages started pouring in. 

“With the snow coming, should we cancel classes?” “Are we closed tomorrow?” “What are our plans for tomorrow? It looks like the roads are going to be bad.” 

With every text, my mind rebelled, rejecting the idea that I was going to be stuck in the house, the momentum of my life coming to a grinding halt because of some snow. I grew increasingly irritated at the thought that my appointments, my jiu-jitsu classes, and my daughter’s school would all be canceled for what amounted to less than a foot’s worth of accumulation. 

Putting out of my mind other people’s concerns, their safety, and their wishes, an argument started up in my mind. “I grew up in the Northeast,” I thought, “We got way more snow than this and we still went to school. My father still went to work. He woke up early to shovel and went about his day. What is wrong with people here? They are always looking for any excuse to stay home and it’s ruining my plans.” 

Then the thought came to me, “What are you really bothered by? What are you afraid of? Do you think you are in charge of all of this? Even if you show up to open the academy, no one else is coming to train with you this morning. They are dealing with their own problems. They have their own kids and jobs to worry about. Why are you so bothered by the idea of staying home with your family, of being still, of being stuck with yourself?”

As I sat with these thoughts and feelings for a while, I said a prayer, asking God what He was trying to teach me, asking what the lesson in all of this was, and asking Him to use this moment of anxiousness, resistance, and discomfort for His purpose. After a bit, I began to settle down and accept the situation for what it was, for what all circumstances, pleasant or unpleasant are, and that is an opportunity for God to express His love for us and for us to either accept or reject that love. 

Did I want the academy to be shut down for snow? Did I want to stay home all day? Did I want my daughter to miss school (she loves school)? To all of these questions, the answer was a resounding, “No!” However, I also had to ask myself, “Do I trust my Heavenly Father? Do I long to know His will and to serve His purpose? Do I have faith that He is not doing this, whatever ‘this’ I happen to be upset about now, to punish me, but to teach, guide, and shape me in His image?” Yes, of course, yes, even if that “Yes” is the reluctant “Yes” of a child who, having just been scolded for throwing a tantrum, knows he was wrong for doing so. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.