August Advent, part 5: Remembering and Retelling

One thing that helps me Advent (i.e. wait with Hope) is remembering stories of God’s faithfulness in the past and retelling those stories to others as a way to recall and live “in the present” and “in the presence” of those events.

I remember vividly sitting at the border of Kosovo and Macedonia in 1999, having pushed our vehicle through the check point because we ran out of fuel after coasting in neutral downhill the last few miles to the checkpoint. I remember asking various people crossing the border if they had any petrol - unfortunately, most vehicles crossing ran on diesel. I remember watching the sky phase through afternoon to dusk to dark. I remember feeling the anxiety grow, even at the same time as I knew I could trust for provision.

I remember the excitement that grew when I recognized a friend and his driver crossing the border, only to have it dip again when I realized they were running diesel. Yet then the driver said he would take us down the road to the next fueling station - even though the guards had said it was at least 15 miles away.

I remember hope growing as I saw the station approaching, only to sigh when we saw they had no pumps. I remember sitting up straighter as the next one approached, only to sink down when we learned they only had diesel.

As deep night set in and miles from the border increased, I remember getting anxious that the driver would stop and say,  “Well, we’ve tried, we’ve gone far enough.” - or worse - “We’re not turning around now, you’ll have to find another way back to your friends and your vehicle.”

I remember praying silently, “Lord, help, please.”

I remember the look on the driver’s face in the rearview mirror as he saw my worried face and said, “No problem, we’ll try the next one.”

In that moment I realized that he would drive as far as we needed to get fuel, and with that, I had a choice: I could either look through the windshield from the back seat and stress about when the next petrol station would appear, OR I could gaze out my window and enjoy the view of the stars scattered across the sky.

Those stars were beautiful, and we found fuel.

I have so many more person stories of God’s provision and healing and direction and protection from Albania and Afghanistan, Ireland and the Holy Land, Latvia and little villages in the mountains of Haiti, and more.

I know stories of friends and colleagues. And I can draw on stories of their friends and colleagues. I can dismiss them as happenstance and continue to worry, or I can sit in the retelling and remember we belong to God’s greater story.

I can read stories of God’s faithfulness revealed throughout scripture and the stories of faithful followers throughout the centuries, and in doing so I can remember that I belong to God’s greater story.

Yesterday morning in worship at a local church we participated in Communion.  In retelling this story of God’s mighty acts revealed in Jesus, and in remembering his life, death, and resurrection as we shared bread and cup, we re-member ourselves to God’s greater story of love, hope, and redemption of the world.

I have a choice: I can chew and sip fitfully as I fret about the uncertainty, or I can savor these gifts of grain and fruit of the vine remembering God is with us now, we belong to God’s story, and we will never be alone - because God has already done all it takes to redeem the world, and God will not give up on us participating in the holy work of healing the world.