At the beginning of 2019, I walked some stuff out with God. Like, I reallllyyyy walked some junk out.
I wish I had a more beautiful way to write that, but that's exactly how it felt: I felt like I was trudging through some personal mud, and it wasn't the kind of thing I could talk about on Instagram or share with all my friends. It was personal "stuff," and I realized that to walk through it thoroughly, I would have to return to it day after day, month after month, for however long it took to see myself come out on the other side.
So you know what I did? I transformed my office closet into a prayer closet. I began going in there daily and praying the same prayers. I started hanging the prayers and conversations with God on the walls, revisiting them daily, pressing in harder.
I think there are some seasons where our faith requires this of us. Not just pray once or twice and hope for the best. It's a season of necessary diligence and commitment.
On the topic of commitment-- after we meet Simeon in the temple, we come across a woman named Anna. You can find her in the book of Luke.
Anna was a widow. The Scripture tells us she was married for seven years but it's unclear whether she was widowed for the last 84 years or she was 84 years old at the time of meeting baby Jesus.
We do know that she spent every single day in the temple.
It says in the text she never left the temple. She worshipped day and night. She fasted, and she prayed. She knew that because God had promised her, she would see the freeing of Jerusalem in her lifetime.
And here it was.
In the form of a baby, she was witnessing her miracle.
I cannot imagine being so old, nearing the end of my life, and still believing with everything I have that God will be good and I will see his promise in my lifetime.
What Anna did in her waiting required so much strength and devotion to God. It was like she permanently lived in the prayer closet and chose never to exit.
She could have easily walked away and picked a different path. She could have given the hours of her day to something else.
She could have wiped her hands of God at the 40-year mark of being a widow or the 60-year mark.
But she waited. She waited, and she deepened her devotion with each passing day.
I want to be more like Anna.
I want not to wither and fade when the days pass by and I still don't see the fullness of what God has promised to me.
I want to remain steadfast and loyal.
I want to keep pushing into prayer.
And friends, it's hard. I will say it in plain terms: it is hard to stay devoted to prayer when you don't see God moving daily. It is hard to say "your will be done" when you're not so sure you will like the outcome.
But do we keep moving in closer?
Do we come back to the prayers we write in our prayer journals?
Do we circle them dozens of times and still bring them to God even when disappointment is thick?
The prayer closet was not easy for me because I just wanted to walk away. I tried to find my own solutions. I tried to pick my exit strategy, but God clarified that nothing was out there for me. There was no other solution but Him. And so I kept going back.
In a few short days, Christmas will be over. The trees will get piled on the roadside. We will all push into the "new year, new you" mantras. But the things we are waiting on and our need for God will still be there.
And if you are waiting on something, or in the mud of something, or feeling trapped in a headlock for your faith, then all I can tell you now is that you need to keep going back to God.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Even after Advent is over, you need a rhythm with God. Today. And tomorrow. And the next day.
When you feel like it and when you don't.
Go back when it's good and tell Him it's good. Go back to rejoice even when you don't feel like lifting your hands and thanking Him.
There is nothing that can act as a suitable bandage for your waiting. Not your phone. Not Instagram. Not Netflix. Not a full calendar or a new dating app.
As I've learned, the only thing that will soothe you is going back to God when you want to do anything BUT that.
I am standing on the other side of a transformation because of my willingness to keep entering the prayer closet. Because I walked it out, I can say that I have an Anna moment to show for my faith. I kept believing, and I saw God move.
Some days were slow. Some days felt like nothing was moving. But my belief in God became sturdier. My resilience took to a new level. And I know I will look back on that time when I felt so in need of God and be able to say, "That was one of the more beautiful spots in my faith because I clung to Him above all else."
