Go Gently.

On Friday the 13th of November, Sam finished the second of his Biblical languages classes. This summer he powered through Greek and in the fall he championed Hebrew. He studied intensely, and we intensely supported him. Our family traveled to Tennessee and then to Michigan for Thanksgiving. We came home to St. Louis on the 28th, and on the 30th, Sam began his first full-term here at the seminary. Basically this means a lot of reading and a lot of writing, and a new transition to a new schedule for our family. It hasn't been easy.

Our post-travel week last week had me in a tizzy. The kids were slightly out of sorts, and I was working hard to re-establish our normal patterns of eating and sleeping and disciplining. Sam's new class load was already overwhelming, to him and to me. And then there was Advent and Christmas to be thinking about. You know, the season of joy, of expectation, of reflection? But this was not the season I was experiencing. I was anxious, overwhelmed, tired, and busy. I was thinking of gifts - the ones to be bought and the ones to be received. I was thinking of traveling to North Dakota and making a mental list of everything I needed to pack and a second mental list of the things that we absolutely couldn't forget. I hopped on Amazon and accomplished the last of our shopping, talked to people about gift ideas for my children and my husband, and I started packing a box of the things we absolutely could not forget to take to North Dakota. I survived the week. But that's about it: I survived. I didn't enjoy. I didn't reflect. I didn't surrender. But suddenly, I remembered.

I remembered a line from my devotional: "Go gently through this day, keeping your eyes on me." I read that line on October 26th, and it has been lingering in the back of my heart ever since. "Go gently." This phrase is so simple, so ordinary, and so profound. It is also in complete contradiction to how I was living. I wasn't going gently. I was trudging. There is nothing gentle about trudging.

We live in a world that champions the notion of business. Busy is a sort of status symbol, a marker as to the success of your day. If it wasn't a busy day, it couldn't be productive or meaningful, right? If your life isn't busy, you must be doing it wrong, right? This sort of thinking leaves us frazzled and exhausted, because trudging is exhausting and time-consuming and leaves little time for peace and reflection. Especially this time of year when our calendars are covered in plans to party and bake and create and attend.

"I am not sure I know how to go gently," I humbly admitted to a God who already knew. "What would that even look like?" I wearily asked. Here is what He said, "To go gently is to invite me into every moment." Going gently involves constant conversation with Jesus. These conversations appear simple, almost unnecessary but are in fact the most necessary of all. I ask Him what is next. Sometimes the answer seems almost silly. "Well, dear child, laundry. Laundry is what is next." Other times, He tells me to rest, sitting in a chair reflecting on Him or snuggled up with my kids on the couch watching a movie while a mountain of dirty dishes sits on the counter. He also tells me when to deal with the mountain of dishes.

The verse from Isaiah 9 comes to mind. "For unto us a child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

I smile to myself. I should have learned this lesson long ago. I smile again, knowing I will learn this lesson again at some point.

He knows what we need exactly when we need it. He knows when we need quiet and when we need loud. He knows when we need to be near friends and when we need to be alone. Because He knows us. He created us. He came to this world for us. He left His Spirit with us. He desires our hearts, our lives, our days, and our moments. He reigns, and when Jesus is reigning over our moments, there is balance, order, peace. Even in a world plagued with violence and tragedy, a world where tension and arguments run rampant, He is here. And He is saying, "Go gently, dear child. I am here. I am reigning. I bring peace to your weary heart and to this broken world. I bring joy to your days and clarity to your moments. Go gently with me."