Seeking love — the third in our Advent series

It won’t be much longer now. The days are ticking off the calendar at  a rapid-fire kind of speed. My boys rejoice as we light the third candle and the store clerk at Walmart sends me into a full on panic when she asks if I am ready for Christmas.  Umm … no, I am not even ready for supper tonight. But, ready or not,  it appears as though Christmas is coming! So we light this love candle, take a deep breath and lean forward into all that these coming days hold.

Growing up, I learned this third candle as the Shepherd’s candle. And we all thought it was the coolest one on the Advent wreath because it was pink. Who doesn’t love pink? We would light this candle as the story of the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night was read. And as the fire burned brightly in that old fireplace out in the narthex of my childhood church, we would sing of the shepherds and the glory that shown around them. It was there in the warmth of that sanctuary where I learned to love this story of star- gazing shepherds and a God who came and announced his arrival to plain, ordinary men. And that light burning brightly atop this candle of love? It still reminds me that this is more than just a story.

Because the thing is. The presents, the parties, the baking, and the people push to fill in all the space. And sometimes we flat out forget why we do this Christmas thing.

We start running towards a finish line that never stops moving. And it becomes all about the perfect fairytale.

I watch the three flames flutter in the wind of all that moves around them. Hope, peace and love; all fighting for a way to stay lit in the frantic pace of our day. And God knows. He knows how we struggle to see it. Generations before love came and walked among us, God gave these words to his prophet, Hosea; words that roll through my head as the flame on that love candle flickers in the darkness.

“When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more I called, the further they went from me… It was I who taught Israel to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. I lifted the yoke from their necks and bent down to feed them. (Hosea 11:1-4)

I know, the ancient words seem to have little to do with our reality at first glance. But, try this. What if I told you that verse isn’t just about Israel, but about us? You and me and your mother-in-law and your neighbor and the girl who made your Starbucks order and the person who cut you off in traffic this morning. We are the people of God; the ones he made in his image. The ones he can’t stop loving even when we spend our days running hard and fast in pursuit of all the things.

We are the ones who need to hear this real truth: God never stops coming for us.

His love for his wayward and unruly children is a light that refuses to be extinguished. He calls, he leads, he beckons and he guides even when he gets no response from us.

And these words from the prophet Hosea break my heart because I know how I forget.  You see, even in the days of the prophets, God knew the plan. He knew what his love for us would cost him. Yet, still it burned holy, fierce, complete. “A love that would not let us go.”

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby keeping watch over their flocks by night. An angel of the lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them” (Luke 2: 8-9).

He knew he would come. That he, The LORD our God, would bend down to feed the hungry souls of his people; of Israel, of you and me.  He knew that “cords of human kindness and ties of love”  would lay wrapped in blankets and asleep in a manger. He knew.

And I guess I have always loved this part of the Christmas story because those shepherds were the first of us to know. Those shepherds who were just doing their job; their hard, long, dark, smelly  job. The job that gave them little time to rest or to contemplate things like how the Messiah might come. They were far more concerned with how many sheep were resting within their flocks and if the fire was staying lit out there in that field. Yet, God came right into the middle of it. And his glory shone around them.

It is what God does best. He breaks in and lights up the darkness of our ordinary with his love.

It wasn’t some grand palace or amazing landscape that God’s love broke into that night. Nope. It was regular old shepherds out in a lonely field doing regular old work. God showed up there and changed everything.

“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests” (Luke 2:14).

Those shepherds, the ones who made a living chasing after lost sheep, heard it with their very own ears — how God loves us, anyway. They saw how he comes after us even when we don’t know that we have wandered away. And maybe God went to the shepherds first because they would get that.

 But here’s the thing. Those shepherds? They saw God’s glory that night because they stayed in their places and simply looked up.  It had little to do with them and everything to do with God. The holy broke into their ordinary work and changed their stories forever.

And as we race through this third week of Advent, I am praying for our stories, too. As we run hard to make it all happen, may we pause long enough to look up and see how he loves us. Immanuel, God with us.

God so loved the world that he sent his only son. He came …  he still comes. We are loved and we are never alone.

And this song, racing through my head all day; an old hymn, O Love That Will Not Let Me Go. But it is this version that plays on repeat in my heart… so a little gift to you!  CLICK HERE to listen.

And may it remind you of how loved you are, friends.