As the Winter Solstice approaches, the days are growing shorter. The light which used to rise in the northeast now rises over the Ahtanum Ridge southeast of our home. Instead of setting behind Mount Rainier, it now sets directly behind Mount Adams, another of our majestic volcanoes that dress the landscape of the Northwest. Our windows face this most beautiful of dramas that christens every morning with beauty and blesses every evening with its swift benediction.
The evenings of the Pacific Northwest are the darkest of the contiguous United States where the sun rises today at 7:38am and sets at 4:14pm. The days will continue to decrease in light until December 21st, the darkest day of the year, nicknamed “The Big Dark” where we will only have 8.5 hours of sunlight. And north of the border, where I come from, it is even slightly shorter. This is the season of wintering and watchfulness. As we prepare for the onset of winter and wait for the light to begin growing again, the natural world around us urges us on toward preparation, both in our dwellings and in our hearts.
After 8 inches of snow fell last weekend, I tromped across our yard to the chicken coop where our ten little hens live. Poor little things! For days, they did not come out of their coop, terrified as they were and certainly wondering, “What is all this scary white stuff falling from the sky?”. I changed their bedding of pine shavings, filled their feeder with pellets, brought fresh water, and collected their eggs. I also took a snow shovel and tried to clear a path for them so they could see the familiar ground and attempt to step outside their shelter into the crisp blue sky.
I’ve been able to be attentive to my heart in an intentional way this advent. I’m pondering many things and trying to be watchful to what the Lord is teaching me, even if it’s just to be still. Since summer 2020, I have been waking more often in the middle of the night and early in the morning. Early morning quiet time has become an anticipated part of my morning routine. I sit beside the Christmas tree, decorated by our young lady and three growing boys who are, one by one, beginning to tower above me. One day, I noticed two of the new little birds my mother got for our tree when she and my dad were visiting. It was like these birds were watching me: two little companions to join me on my advent journey this year. It made me laugh. They are quite unlikely though, specifically because they are not real, but also because I never planned for them to be sitting there, watching me. But this is where they were placed when we decorated the tree, and I love that they are there “watching”. I’ve always loved woodland creatures, real or stuffed, and so there they sit. They’ve become my advent companions on these dark early mornings as I sit and read Scripture and meditate on Advent poems and thoughts and try to practice being still while I wait for the light to come.
Another unlikely advent companion is a set of songs I loved so dearly when they first were released into the world in the summer of 1998. This was an unlikely advent addition as it is not a Christmas album. And yet, it is everything that Advent and Christmas is. This past November, I was listening to all the old Rich Mullins songs I had listened to on repeat as a teenager and early college student, simply because I was reminded of this singer songwriter.
In summer ‘98, I had been out of high school for 3 years already with a year of Bible school, experience working at a Christian daycare, and several classes from a local university college tucked into my portfolio of post-secondary adventures. I had just returned home from a mission trip to Argentina and was trying to figure out the direction the Lord wanted me to go. I was taking my sweet time and the Lord was too, but all, I believe, for a purpose. Jesus is never late. I sought the Lord for guidance, and I couldn’t shake the desire to go back to Bible College. It’s what I wanted more than anything. As I prepared to switch colleges and enter back into Bible and ministry training, I discovered a beautiful collection of songs by the late Rich Mullins called The Jesus Record. It became my anthem and driving music to inspire me as I drove around the town of my beginnings and settled into my new life at Bible college.
Rich Mullins had died several months prior to the recording and release of his last album. Musician friends and artists completed it for him. I believe it’s one of his most powerful works of music that he recorded. The A side of the cassette tape is his own demo versions of the songs with just a tape recorder, a piano and a guitar. These are some of my favorite versions. The B side is the more polished, finished renditions of this collection which I love equally.
Recently, I stumbled upon a new recording of Rich Mullins’ songs called The Bellsburg Sessions. This album is a recreation of some of his original songs released just this year, 25 years after his tragic death. The familiar lyrics of these vintage songs remind me of that definitive time in my life as I wandered through the early years of adulthood. As I’ve been enjoying these songs afresh, I’ve been reminded of one that has become an unlikely advent companion in my heart, the song, My Deliverer:
Joseph took his wife and her child and they went to Africa
To escape the rage of a deadly king
There along the banks of the Nile, Jesus listened to the song
That the captive children used to singThey were singing
"My deliverer is coming, my deliverer is standing by
My deliverer is coming, my deliverer is standing by"Through a dry and thirsty land, water from the Kenyon heights
Pours itself out of Lake Sangra's broken heart
There in the Sahara winds Jesus heard the whole world cry
For the healing that would flow from His own scarsThe world was singing
"My deliverer is coming, my deliverer is standing by
My deliverer is coming, my deliverer is standing by”…
This song is God-haunted, as it takes the listener to the banks of the Nile River in Egypt where the Hebrew slaves labored unceasingly under their oppressors, the Egyptian Regime in Old Testament times. These Hebrew children cried out for God to hear them, and He did.
“During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew.” Exodus 2:23-25
Jesus, knowing the history of his people, of his ancestors, knew the cries of His people for deliverance. They were awaiting a deliverer, a Messiah, the Promised Seed, and he was the one prophesied to come. He came as a baby, born to a virgin, an “in-flesh-ment” as Eugene Peterson once called it. He came for his people, and he came for all nations.
He came for me. And He will come again for us.
At the time of first hearing this song, the Lord gave me hope and reminded me, during many trials, that my Deliverer, Jesus Himself, was coming back and He would rescue me from all the struggles. He would deliver me and heal me. So when I listen to this song now, 25 years later, I am reminded of that beautiful gift of hope He gave me in this song and through His Word and by His Holy Spirit! We are awaiting our Lord’s second coming. Until he returns, we are in a perpetual season of Advent. No one knows the day or hour of his coming, not even Himself, but only the Father (Matthew 24:36). My Deliverer is coming, my Deliverer is standing by. When the Father gives the nod, the Son of God will come in all His glorious splendor, and He will bring the fullness of His Kingdom and His reign. Yes Lord, Come!
Winter in the orchards