Welcoming the new year with messy church

We welcomed the new year with my preaching on January 1st in my home church. While I'm not entirely sure if wrestling with a sermon is the best way for me to spend my last day of the year, I was thankful for yesterday's service and getting to preach. 

But I was also thankful that it was a bit messy, as that feels more true to who we are and what life has looked like these past few years. After all, we started off last year with most things closed down (again). And it feels like God meets us more in messiness than when we have our act together. After all, it is often only when I recognize my inability to do things on my own that I realize how much I need God to intervene, not only in and because of my failures, but also in every aspect of daily life.

And so I pray that my coughing at the end of the service didn't get in the way. Whether that be out of concern for how I was doing, as I struggled to stop coughing and finish the service, or whether it made others anxious that I was sick and potentially making others sick. Or even out of my own sadness that I coughed after taking the communion bread, as that association feels wrong (even if I realize that God is not always as digestible as we'd like God to be!)

And I give thanks for the second chair on the stage behind the pulpit and my child's enthusiasm in joining me there. And thanks that I belong to a church where she has been welcomed with joy so that I feel most people would be more delighted to see her up front than be distracted by how much she moves around. Next time, though, I'll make sure that she leaves the stage before I start preaching. Near the middle of my sermon, I felt her crawling by my feet and making herself comfortable under the pulpit (which is thankfully closed and actually a pretty cosy space for a child). Other than being a bit surprised, it wasn't that distracting for me (although I can imagine it might have caused some suspense to those watching me). 

One of the main messages of my sermon is that we are welcomed as God's people, that we are seen and loved, not just when we have our act together, but also in the foolishness and messiness of our real lives (see here for an earlier variation of the sermon). I find it a bit ironic (although fitting) that my leading the service got to be an illustration of that message. 

January: failure and grace

January always seems to surprise me with how overwhelming it is. Even this year, when I did a lot to order things well, I still felt like I got hit by a truck (or a bakfiets as Matthijs and I often say, since it'd be less likely to do serious damage and yet cause a lot of pain). The following list should give you an idea of why I thought that, for once, this January would be easier:

• I had a great, relaxing vacation, thanks to friends and family (especially my Dutch in-laws). We also had a few days back at home before 'regular' life started, and I could even work a few half days before starting back.
• Matthijs's work is much less intense than his PhD program was - and it feels like we've mostly recovered from the stress connected to that.
• I didn't have to plan/outline studies for the next 8 weeks of Campus Edge since we were continuing with our study on Isaiah. On top of that, I have a great intern working for me who leads studies a lot (and is very passionate about Isaiah). 
• The little is getting to an age where she is more independent and can play on her own sometimes. 

But this past week it finally dawned on me what part of January hadn't changed. Every year in January I approach the year with extra hopes and plans and expectations about all the things I'm going to get done. I think the expectations were even higher this year because of how much my life had felt ordered (and I felt well-rested). 

And then I failed. Perhaps because the biggest expectation was how diligently I was going to be working on my dissertation to finally finish it. But working on it has been hard (which shouldn't have surprised me, since it has taken this long already). And so January has been coloured by disappointment in myself. Again.

Fortunately, January isn't only about disappointment. With each failed attempt (and each successful attempt) to work hard on my dissertation (and work and life stuff), I'm reminded of the truths that I have been learning this past year. Failure is not the end of the story but the beginning. My failures (and my successes) are opportunities to experience God's grace and the reassurance that my value is not dependent on how good (or productive) I am.