keep watch

Last week a friend sent me a hilarious video of a toddler falling asleep while eating an ice cream cone. He keeps nodding off, his head drooping, his face smushing into the cold ice cream, and then he bolts awake, takes another bite, and the whole thing repeats. It’s pretty epically cute. I can remember similar times with our own kiddos, at the point of utter exhaustion in their little selves, and drifting off to sleep right in their highchair, jolly jumper, or wherever they happened to find themselves.

Sometimes it’s hard to stay awake. I feel that these days; my body reaches a point of exhaustion just in the course of a regular day, and a rest of some kind feels essential to keep going. It is good for us to rest, and knowing our limits and resting well with Jesus is an important rhythm and awareness for us to continue to foster as well.

But this week I’ve been thinking about a different kind of awake-ness. I’ve been sitting with the chunk of scripture that talks about Jesus going to pray in the garden, and asking his disciples to keep watch and pray. Jesus is in the very thick of heartache and grief. He knows in his spirit what’s coming, and he’s seeking both preparation, as well as reprieve and rescue from his Father at this time of need. He says, “My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Yet, despite this call to be with Jesus in prayer, the disciples succumb to their human weariness, and are repeatedly sleeping when Jesus returns to check in with them.

I’ve been feeling this invitation to keep watch. And it’s not new exactly… but as is often the case, my learning, my understanding of the invitations God has before me grow in clarity, spiralling with a repetition that deepens and thickens as I continue to give my attention to him. Tish Harrison Warren, an Anglican priest and writer, says “Christian discipleship is a lifetime of training in how to pay attention to the right things, to notice God’s work in our lives and in the world.”
This invitation to a posture of attentiveness and expectation calls to mind a lookout, or a tower guard. My mind vaguely recalls the opening scene of Hamlet where the guards are keeping watch, on the lookout for any potential threats. They are both bored and unsettled at the same time - and this feels like a real place I can find myself in. Like the disciples, like these fictional guards, even when we are aware of the task set before us to pay attention to God’s unfolding story, we sometimes drift off, asleep, distracted, disengaged with what he’s doing right in our midst.

And then at other times, we are acutely alert, but giving our attention to the wrong things. We can sometimes be so focused on the threat of danger itself, that we fail to recognize the presence of the one who has rescued us from it.
There is so much noise in our world - so much fear and anxiety - an unending list of things to be worried about or consumed by. But unlike the Shakespearean guards who are ever-watching for the first sign of danger on the horizon, our invitation is to be attentive to the presence and movement of the very one who saves us from all harm. We are not on the lookout for danger, but rather we are to be expectantly watching for the continuous coming of our Saviour, the one who loved us even unto death, and then rose victorious over the grave.
He has come, and he is coming even now.

The season of Lent, which we are well into, is one of waiting and keeping watch. It is a built-in calendar rhythm, like Advent, where we purposefully step back into our need, our longing, and our anticipatory hope for the Saviour who is coming.
A song has been playing in my head as I’ve been wading through some of these pieces, and it’s actually a Christmas song, called “We Watch, We Wait,” by Nichole Nordeman. Both the lyrics and the music capture the deep longing of a season when we’re waiting, waiting, waiting, for our hope to be realized and our prayers to be answered.

We watch
We wait
We ask
We ache

God with us, someday
We watch, we wait…

I want to give my attention to the story that God is continuing to unfold in and through my life. When the disciples fall asleep, Jesus continues to encourage and invite them to be alert, while also having grace and understanding for their lack of stamina to do so. This is how Jesus meets us - with both mercy and purpose. With a heart that loves us completely exactly where and how we are, and then also compels us to more of what he has for us, and more of who he has made us to be.

I want to soak in the constancy of his love and comfort, while also responding to the invitation from God to pay attention to how his kingdom is coming. I want to continue to learn how to walk the both/and of holding grief and hope in tandem - neither one negated by the other. There is real burden, real threat, real suffering - but there is also God with us, Emmanuel - He has come. He is coming even now.

We had a small influx of new information as the results of my most recent scan came back. Overall, the scan shows that things are relatively the same as they were in November, which is a good outcome. We’re very thankful that things are mostly stable and contained. There are still some questions around next steps to address some pain and discomfort I’ve been having. We’ll be looking at the possibility of radiation and/or surgery for the purposes of alleviating some symptoms, and also hopefully continuing to slow and contain the cancer’s growth.
The information and tests are good, and a necessary part of the process, but as they’ve come I’ve been needing the gentle reminders to keep my attention on the right things. There is a real tendency to focus on the threat - to try to understand it more thoroughly, to read more, research extensively, pursue all the options. And of course, it is good, to a certain extent, to be informed, to advocate for ourselves within our healthcare system, or in other arenas, to be aware of what’s happening in the world around us.

But so quickly it can tip too far, causing us to fall asleep to the larger truth that we know and are invited to live from. When we stare too long at the potential danger, take in too much information, allow ourselves to dwell too long on or own plans for survival, we can fall asleep to the sure hope and salvation that is already ours in Jesus.
Where is our attention? What are we keeping watch for?

In heath concerns, relational breakdown, the chaos and heartbreak of our world - the threats and suffering are real. We are crushed with grief, and our Lord and Saviour knows the feeling well. But instead of fixating on the challenge itself, allowing ourselves to be overcome with fear or anxiety, let’s hear his invitation again to stay with him - to be close, to keep watch, and pray. Because in these very places, God is on the move. God is in our midst - knowing us, loving us, making a way. The death and resurrection of Jesus means that life and love win the day, right now, right where we find ourselves. And we have nothing to fear.

In the later verses of her song, Nordeman shifts the lyrics from “God with us, Someday” to “God with us, This Day.” He is here. He has come, and we are invited to live and move and have our being in his presence at every moment. All we need do, is stay awake to what is true.

So look up, beloved ones; be awake to the truth. Keep watch with me and see the coming King.
For our help comes from the Lord, the very maker of heaven and earth.
The one who watches over us never slumbers or sleeps. He is faithful; he is with us (Ps 121).

Warren goes on in her writing to talk about how it is the practice of prayer that is slowly teaching and reminding her to be awake to God at work around her:
Just as our pupils dilate to let in more light, prayer adjusts our eyes to see God in the darkness…correcting our vision over time. We learn to watch for what is all around us every minute - mercy, beauty, mystery, and a God who never ceases to wait and watch with us.
(Prayer in the Night, 61, 64)

So Lord, I do pray again now. Asking that you would help us to keep our eyes on you.
May we dwell in your continuous presence with expectation. May we recognize the ways you are meeting our needs, and then inviting us to partner with you in meeting the needs of others.
May we be ever on the watch for how you’re moving in our midst, bringing light and life, and making a way.
You are so good, Lord. We give all the praise and glory to you.
Amen.