2020.
What can be said of it? What should be said of it? Of all it has been and for what remains to be written, words fail to calculate its full measure.
It’s been too much; it’s been not enough.
It’s rattled us … scattered us … marked us … changed us.
Some years are like that – completely exhaustive in their shaping of us.
They leave us undone, counting the days (sometimes the hours), until the months accumulate forward to a grand conclusion. And that’s where we are at…
At a conclusion to a year that won’t finish neatly or with grandeur but, instead, one that will carry over onto a new page with fragments … parts of a sentence … segments of a story … that deserve a better ending than their beginning.
Better endings. That is the essence of my prayers in these final days. For all the failures and colossal, sideways’ screw-ups of 2020, prayer remains my gain.
In great loss and at great cost, where else can we go … should we go … but to God?
I am grateful for this spiritual thread that has remained in me and been strengthened in me by the weathering of 2020.
Talking to God is what I have left.
My prayers seem a paltry offering at times, but an offering nonetheless. God has taken it all – all my thoughts and all my words – broken them, blessed them, blown on them, and multiplied them so that they become sanctified at a higher, holier level. History will write the witness of their fruition. I cannot always see the fruit, but thanks be to God, I can always find the Fruit-Giver therein.
And so it was two nights ago when I awakened from my restless slumber and immediately began my discourse with Him (a habit that’s been forming over these past months). Several weeks ago, I changed up the dialogue; instead of telling God what I want, I have begun asking Him regarding his intentions:
Lord, what do you want? What is your heart’s desire?
His occasional revelations to my spirit have been live-giving.
Two nights ago, I probed a bit further, risked a little more with the asking:
Lord, what do you want? What is your heat’s desire? What do you need to move the needle in this situation?
Immediately a scene propped open before my spiritual eyes.
A deep blue night sky, sparkling with just enough starlight to hint at the spectacular. Christ was there, descending from above, arms outstretched, nail-scarred hands turned outward, robed in white with a golden crown on his head.
And just as potent as the scene before me was Christ’s response to my probing:
An open door, Elaine, that’s what I need to move the needle in this situation. An open door.
An open door; an open heart. In that moment of brief revelation, I pictured a single door, then two, then more opening up all across the fruited plains – making a way for this descending Jesus to enter in. To come inside. To make his presence known and to begin the transformation that would move the needle forward toward a better conclusion … a better ending.
And therein, friends, Christmas arrived in my heart.
I remembered Bethlehem. A night sky with just enough starlight to hint at the spectacular. Christ descending from above to the fruited plains below, robed in flesh, and with a cry that cut through the darkness to announce God’s answer to those who are longing for a better conclusion:
An open door, child. That’s what I need to move the needle in your situation. An open door.
“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20)
Oh, that is the grandest conclusion of them all – dinner around the table with Emmanuel – God with us!
Christmas … in 2020.
In loss. In gain. In all that remains.
Between now and then,
between here and there;
From this day moving forward
Until life knows repair.Prayers for more,
to cover the less;
Prayers for faith,
to believe all is best.For better conclusions,
for grander ends;
For steps unseen,
for stories to mend.From fragile to finished,
From weakness to strength;
From waters lain stagnant,
To rivers at length.To carry us onward,
To move us past now;
To bring us safe harbor,
To tie up the bow.First steps on a shore,
Of a kingdom unknown;
First steps with the King,
In His land, your new home.So, all is not lost,
In this year or the next;
There’s more to the story,
Dim the lights, write the text.The needle’s been moved,
Christ came to earth’s floor;
He knocked, you took notice,
You opened your door.It’s all that he needed,
He wanted – yearned for;
You and your moments,
With Him evermore.(f. elaine olsen 12.14.2020 – all rights reserved)
Merry Christmas, friends. May your heart be the open door that brings heaven to earth this Christmas. Christ in us – the hope of glory. Amen.
Peace for the journey,
