And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord; His mercy is on them that fear Him from generation to generation.

Lord, You have been our refuge from one generation to another. Before the mountains were brought forth, or the land and the earth were born, from age to age you are God. Psalm 90:1–2

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where

In 1884, James Wells, Moderator of the United Free Church of Scotland in his book The Parables of Jesus tells the story of a little girl carrying a big baby boy. Seeing her struggling, someone asked if she wasn't tired. With surprise she replied, "No, he's not heavy; he's my brother." -Wikipedia

And yeah, I know that the Hollies song has brought tears to millions of eyes over the years, and I remember joining them, weeping as it played on my eight track player while I sat in my white beanbag chair in my hot pink and orange bedroom in the middle of high school angst, but indeed, the road is long.

And heartache abounds.

My own heart aches with the belovedness of each child of His.

Yesterday was full of odd yet beautiful celebrations of God With Us: the Syrian Sweet Exchange where hundreds gathered in a church parking lot to buy amazing edibles crafted by Syrian refugees so very far from their now rubbled home, selling hot dogs and hot apple cider with the brothers and sisters at the African Methodist Episcopal church to the huddled-under-a-big-blanket masses lining the streets for the Festival of Lights parade, and without-a-plan (beyond what key each song would be sung in) wandering the back neighborhood by candlelight with friends and family caroling “Silent Night” and “Jingle Bells,” dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh…Everette and Cole were the official doorbell ringers and then Everette twirled about in her Fairy Angel with the Wand costume as Cole dressed as Spiderman did the twist to “Away in the Manger.”

But I told Nicole that my morning of wading through that huge stack of eighth grade lab journals and dozens of poorly written conclusions on pH indicators and polar covalent bonding was actually an act of worship of God With Us.

Each child of His, beloved. 

My brother.

And we are His hands and feet, carrying our brother on this long winding road.

One thing I learned on the Camino that I had absolutely no idea what lay beyond the curve up ahead, on this long and winding road.

But He did, and does, and forever will.

Age to age.

He is.

I AM.

And today at church, as in churches across the nation and across the world today, the children are dressing up like angels and shepherds and sheep and marching up to the stage to sing “Joy to the World” with the congregation as Mary and Joseph and a nestled Simone kneel in front of a box stuffed with straw and ponder the great mystery.

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men, the multitude of angels announced.

Fear not.

Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

And last night Cameron led us in verse after verse of fairly unfamiliar words once we got beyond the chorus, but words which have spoken truth and hope to countless souls. From age to age. And at one house the woman ran out with plates of cookies.

Fear not.

Their prison is only in their minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.” Lewis, The Last Battle

Throughout the Gospel, we hear, “Do not be afraid.” That is what Gabriel says to Zechariah. That is what the angels say to the women at the tomb: “Do not be afraid.” And that is what the Lord says when he appears to his disciples: “Do not be afraid it is I. Do not be afraid. It is I. Fear is not of God. I am the God of love, a God who invites you to receive–to receive the gifts of joy and peace and gratitude of the poor. The invitation of Christ is the invitation to move out the house of fear and into the house of love: to move away out of that place of imprisonment into a place of freedom. “Come to me, come to my house which is the house of love,” Jesus says. Throughout the Old and the New Testament we see that invitation. “Oh, how much I desire to dwell in the house of the Lord. The Lord is my refuge, the Lord is my dwelling place, the Lord is my tent, the Lord is my safety.” Henri Nouwen, The Road to Peace

For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. They shall bear you in their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You shall tread upon the lion and adder; you shall trample the young lion and the serpent under your feet. Psalm 91:11–13

Well, I certainly should not be afraid of anything. I can trample my way through life without a second thought.

So what is it that ties me up in knots?

And on the upfront and out there world, I imagine I seem fairly fearless. The sort that rides a loaded-down bicycle for 1200 km of winding narrow roads following haphazard yellow arrows painted on trees and stone walls. Or packs a hundred middle school students into family station wagons and camps out on a pile of dirt behind a Mexican ejido. Or leaves that front door to her home pretty much always propped open.

But somewhere along the way I decided that I didn’t measure up. Not on the outside of course. I always towered over everyone else. But on the inside. If anyone truly saw me, they would think it was inadequate. I even decided to include myself in the frowning judging world. If I ever paused and looked at myself and saw myself, I would be unhappy with who was standing there vulnerable, naked, with no distracting adornments.  

And maybe, just maybe, that love your neighbor as yourself thing is true. And if I can only look at myself with a squinched-up critical eye that is exactly how I look at my neighbor. Weighing. Measuring. Judging.

Rather than waiting out on the road, looking into the sunset settling over the horizon, pacing, looking up, even craning my neck a bit, so eager am I to welcome the wandering prodigal into my awaiting heart. Because that is how I have been welcomed, just as I am, without one plea.

And we are all wandering prodigals. Who have been welcomed with outstretched arms.

It is finished. Done.

And stepping into His tent, oddly enough, is stepping out into complete freedom. His tent is far bigger than the human mind can comprehend. And a light breeze is stirring the door flaps, whispering, “Come further up, come further in!” 

Do not be afraid. It is I.

Here is a good article by a Christianity Today blogger on crafting our own lifeboats. Me and Abraham. 

Fear not for I have overcome the world

Let the sorrowful sighing of the prisoners come before You, and by Your great might spare those who are condemned to die. Psalm 79:11

So when God comes near, He always challenges our fears. This guy went to Mozambique, Africa and few years ago and had the opportunity to go to an orphanage that was near a dumpster. And the nuns first took him into a room filled with men weak, thin and dying of AIDS and then they took him into another room filled with women weak, thin and dying of AIDS and malaria. The most shocking of the rooms was next, filled with cribs wall to wall with little babies whose parents were dying.

The guy looked down and saw the cutest baby in the entire world (except Everette of course) with a round face and curly hair, and he asked the nun if he could pick her up. The nun said, with hesitation, that he could. He still remembers the little baby’s name, Muyena. Muyena wrapped her little legs and little arms around him and buried her head right into his chest, and then peeked up at him. The nun said something to him that he would never forget, “Everyone wants to be held by somebody.”

He thought to himself, “How true this is. The God of the Universe is extending His arms to you and I and saying ‘I want to be in relationship with you; let Me hold you.” But He also has to say something else, the same thing He told Zechariah, He told Joseph, He told the group of shepherds, and He told Mary: “Fear not.” One of the things that keeps us from engaging in a dynamic, intimate relationship with the God of the Universe is our fear. Can we really trust Him?

And each of us is held prisoner by our fear. Well, at least I am. And every morning I leap off of the kitchen counter of myself into the strong waiting arms of my Father, and He catches me. But somehow I wiggle free from His embrace and scrabble up again to my precarious perch of, “Thank you but I would rather be in control.”

And all of the condemnation is self-inflicted. Jesus came not into the world to condemn the world, but that the world, through Him, might be saved. And Chris reminded us last night, as we explored the last advent candle of Peace, that as we wait for His redemption, the thing about Jesus is that He shows up, no matter on how well we wait, whether with impatience, apathy, disbelief. His breaking in does not depend on us.

Peace He gives us. Me. A permanent, lasting peace that lasts through our transitory lives. Jehovah Shalom: I am your peace. And may I too wrap my legs and my arms around Him, and bury my head right into His chest, and peek up at His face.

And this is the blessing I will chose for today, and Lord Willing every day: “The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, And be gracious to you; The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, And give you peace.”’

Because it is His will. And His promise.

Thus says the Lord who made the earth the Lord who formed it to establish it—the Lord is His name: Call to Me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. Jeremiah 33:2,3