Hello, friends! It’s the final share of 2020, and we’re excited to reintroduce our lovely friend, Hyacynth. She’s blessed us with her words before, but you may find this topic very real: a weary world rejoices. That’s much of this year for everyone, we know. Our team hopes to encourage you with words to meet your heart where it is, if it is, in the weariness. Quiet pondering. This idea is nothing less than sweet and encouraging to the soul in the busy, harsh environment some of us endure. Add your thoughts in the comments below, share, or visit the Facebook Page.
Merry Christmas, friends! We love you, and we hope you are blessed in this Christmas week.
During a normal December, there is much noise to navigate, and this December 2020 I (Hyacynth) recognize my need for noise reduction more than in years past. My spirit is weary, and it cannot take any more self-help plans or spiritual revitalization how-tos or sermons about how I can fix the weariness that has settled over me this year. I don’t want to add to the noise for you either, and so I will be brief in sharing what I’m learning this year about rejoicing in the midst of a wearing year like 2020.
Maybe you’ve asked yourself the same questions I’ve thought about this Advent season: what if I don’t feel like rejoicing amid the weariness that’s stretched out over my heart, my body, and my spirit? What if a celebration isn’t something I can muster right now?
When Jesus was born, there was quite an exclamation mark lingering around his birth and dedication — the Star, the angels, the heavenly hosts, the shepherds coming to rejoice in the birth of the savior. There was much rejoicing in a loud joyous way.
This year, one marked with weariness, my heart in this moment doesn’t quite resonate with the shepherds’ reaction; it lingers with Mary in her response amid the great exclamations of joy.
“All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often.” Luke 2:18-19 NLT
Mary pondered these thoughts, these circumstances, these joy-filled reactions in her heart; Mary doesn’t cry out in loud celebration. Her celebration is quiet—a marveling as she ponders. Some translations say she treasured these things in her heart—a young mother picking up gemstones of remembrance as events unfolded in front of her eyes, gathering them together in a collection of marvelous unfoldings.
As I reflect on Mary’s posture, I’ve come to believe Mary’s ponderings were part of her rejoicing. Rejoicing comes at the deliverance of the promise of very good news comes true. To really be able to rejoice, we first must deeply understand what is happening, which requires time to process. And then we must remember and linger long over the promises of God manifesting before our eyes. Maybe tour first response isn’t always a loud celebration or tears of joy. Maybe part of rejoicing first comes in the quiet ponderings of the heart, as we remember what God has said and realize God has done what He said He would do.
Maybe the precursor to rejoicing is first processing and then remembering. And maybe remembering requires us to ponder in the quiet of moments during the day and amid the silence of dark nights. Maybe rejoicing cannot be mustered up or turned on and off like Christmas tree lights. Maybe rejoicing needs time to linger in the wonder of it all. Maybe the prelude of rejoicing in a weary world is to first ponder and remember and wonder at Gods goodness and faithfulness in quiet cover of darkness. And then, it time, like a seed buried below ground, shoots of joy will spring forth from the soul rejoicing amid a weary land.
Do not fear if your rejoicing begins in the darkness. Settle there in quiet ponderings of remembering His faithfulness; a shoot of hope and cry of joy will be born from pondering His goodness in the hushed darkness just below the surface. In time the seed will spring forth glorious praise.
