Infinite God, An Embryo
On being a beginner and learning to grow
Welcome back to the second installment of our Advent series in these Selah Letters. May you find a moment to pause and catch your breath.
One of our twin sons, Luke, took his first wobbly steps earlier this week beside the Christmas tree! What a delight to watch him bravely try something new, to stumble and fall but get back up again with a grin.
In today’s poem + practice + prayer we’ll explore the mystery that our Messiah was once a beginner too.
*But, first! Seeing as there are 15 days until Christmas Eve and my Advent Guide has 15 meditations, today would be a lovely day to GIFT the digital version to a friend (!) and invite them to read one a day with you leading up to Christmas Eve.
I've absolutely loved hearing how these words have spoken to many of you and how churches and groups have used these poems for various gatherings. (Feel free to reply and let me know which ones have met you or how you've shared them!)
Today’s poem is for the beginners, the learners, the ones who don't have it all figured out.
Life with two toddlers means every day is wildly different. They are constantly changing, growing before our very eyes, taking everything in like little sponges. I never knew the kind of pride and joy I would feel seeing them learn something new.
But growing usually involves some stumbling. Learning is often uncomfortable and humbling. Being a beginner frequently means failure, at some point along the way.
Today we ponder the reality that Jesus chose to let Himself grow.
As a human baby, there were things He couldn’t do and things He didn’t know.
He had to learn and try and fail and begin again. He needed his diapers changed. He was fussy and fragile and felt pain.
I too am a beginner, floundering and flailing my way through this motherhood thing. I sense my deep desire to immediately be an expert at all of it, even while I've never done this before.
But, if Jesus Himself was allowed to be weak and needy, to accept limitations, to take years and years to mature, then I suppose I can cut myself some slack ;)
And so can you.
So today, let's hear it for the beginners.
CHEERS to all the things we don't yet know.
For the ways we'll try and fail and learn and grow.
Because, maybe? That's one of the most beautiful parts about being human. (Perhaps, Jesus thought so, too).
I hope today's Poem + Practice + Prayer connects with those very human places in your heart.
selah,
Sarah
YOU LET YOURSELF GROW
by Sarah Bourns Crosby
Infinite God
An embryo
You became small
You let Yourself grow
You weren’t in a hurry
You let it be slow
You chose into the process
You let Yourself grow
You depended on Mary
You were fragile, in need
You cried like a baby
You were allowed to be weak
Your diapers were changed
You surrendered to sleep
You were restless and fussy
You needed to eat
You were sad, You were mad
You just wanted to be held
You giggled, You cooed
All the feelings, you felt
You became a beginner
You were allowed to not know
You learned to do hard things
You let yourself grow
You had limitations
You knew losses and love
You released Your perfection
To become one of us.
And because You leaned close
Because You drew near
I now hold this hope
That I don’t have to fear
My own weakness or sadness,
All the things I don’t know,
My desires or failures,
No...
I can let myself grow.
A PRACTICE
Read Philippians 2:6-11 with a child in view or in mind.
What does it mean for you, in your current season, that Jesus came in very human form? That, throughout His life, He learned and grew and tried new things? That He was limited and inexperienced and even fragile?
How is He inviting you into that same vulnerability today?
Let’s circle ‘round in the comments and share how we currently find ourselves as beginners, newbies, learning and growing. (I’ll go first with a weird admission).
A PRAYER
Lord,
I don't like feeling fragile
or failing
or being weak
or in need.
Sometimes I think I should be able to do it all
and know it all
and be all things to all people.
But, You weren't
and You didn't.
So, God,
help me to release those wild expectations
to let go of that desire for perfection
to embrace my human limitations
and receive
your kind invitation
to grow
to not know
to be a beginner
and go slow.
Amen.
May it be so.
P.S.
I’m so glad you’re here. I would be thrilled if you would invite a friend to join you for our Advent series by forwarding this email or by pointing them to sign up here.
Okay, so at the age of 42 I am finally learning how to cook and meal plan. When I was single I just ate chips and salsa or salads or other odds and ends for dinner. Then, when we got married, Paul did most of the cooking because he’s just good at it. But in this current phase of life it makes most sense for me to do dinners and can I tell you how angsty it’s been for me to burn things and over salt things and not be able to get a meal all together at the same time? Whew. Plus feeding two hungry boys. It’s a recipe (ha!) for learning and growing and laying aside pride for sure 🤓
Four years ago my mom’s cancer progressed to triple negative and she had 2-6 weeks to live. I moved in with my parents to help my dad care for her. She continued chemo treatments during this time. I had never cared for someone who was dying. I liken it to a crash course in nursing. I felt so unqualified to the task. At one point I had a panic attack. My pastor called me within 5 minutes and helped me process what to do. I took it as a gift from my friend Jesus. Then less than a year later my daddy was diagnosed with a Glioblastoma. I was blessed to have cared for him for 200 days. I continued my newly learned nursing skills and fed, bathed, cleaned and loved the way Jesus does. It was not a skill I had. It was given to me by the power of the Holy Spirit. It was such a blessing and opportunity for me to be able to do. These new skills are not something we can do out of our own strength. If we do, we will panic and fail. I must ask the Holy Spirit to equip me to do the work set before me.