Second Friday of Advent: Deep Wells
In that day you will say:
“I will praise you, Lord.
Although you were angry with me,
your anger has turned away
and you have comforted me.
Surely God is my salvation;
I will trust and not be afraid.
The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense;
he has become my salvation.”
With joy you will draw water
from the wells of salvation.
—Isaiah 12:1-3
During college, my parents divorced, my dog died, and doctors thought I might have a cancerous mole on my back.
This all happened on the same weekend.
Just a year and a half before this harrowing weekend, I was laying in my dorm room, praying and offering my life to God in a renewed way. That’s whenI had a wild, mystical experience that ended with God audibly and gently speaking to me: “Child, be Mine.” The encounter left me with a stark sense of the reality of God’s presence in my life.
Typically, this is where someone would share that they experienced a caterpillar-to-butterfly life-transformation. And I did!
But in the wrong direction.
Just a month and a half after hearing the audible voice of the Creator of the Universe, I stole my best friend’s girlfriend. I started avoiding my new college friends who were leading me towards God.
And then I ignored God.
It took a year and some hard conversations with friends to realize that I had my priorities wrong. I didn’t love my girlfriend—I idolized her. I had great friends at college, but I wasn’t being a great friend. And while God was devoted to me, I was not devoted to Him.
So as my life fell apart during one long weekend, I started to wonder—is God angry with me?
God must be smiting me with all of these horrible circumstances with my parents, my dog, and my health. Right?
This sense of distance and separation due to (perceived or real) anger can be, and most often is, traumatic. As a response, we develop systems, distractions, anesthetics, and even religions to get by at the least, and to try to appease God at the most.
But this sort of response is based in fear. And this fear in the darkness must, it just must mean God is angry with us. Right?
Advent season is a time to settle in our hearts this truth: Though we live in the shadow of deserving wrath, God has revealed, and will reveal again, that although He was angry, He has chosen to come and comfort us.
In other words, as Exodus 34:6 says, “He is slow to anger but abounding in love.”
As odd as it sounds, that weekend during which my parents divorced, my dog died, and my health was on thin ice became a gift to me. It was a wake-up call. I learned that I couldn’t atone for myself, that life and its circumstances are bigger than my best and my worst decisions.
There was plenty to be afraid of in that season, but God was my salvation.
He spared me a cancer diagnosis. And through the death of my dog Marcy and the misery of my parents’ divorce, I grew closer to my family and developed an empathy for others—an empathy that led me to choose a career in ministry.
I’m currently persevering through two chronic health issues. At times, it’s easy to begin to wonder afresh, “Is God mad at me?”
But God has been faithful to nudge me back to the truth, back to His heart on the matter of me and my health.
The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense;
he has become my salvation.”
With joy you will draw water
from the wells of salvation.
Instead of remaining in a state of fear, I can trust—with joy even!—that He is currently my strength, my defense, and my salvation. My sins don’t keep me from joyfully drawing from the wells of His salvation.
Advent, alongside the memory of God’s faithfulness already displayed in my life, reminds me that no matter how long I’m in this current season of waiting and expectation, my rescue will surely come.
“Child, be Mine,” He says again and again. And I’ll respond with a life that proclaims, “Father, I’m Yours.”
—Philip Schiavoni serves as Area Director, supervising campus staff members in the Mid-Atlantic region.
“I will praise you, Lord.
Although you were angry with me,
your anger has turned away
and you have comforted me.
Surely God is my salvation;
I will trust and not be afraid.
The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense;
he has become my salvation.”
With joy you will draw water
from the wells of salvation.
—Isaiah 12:1-3
During college, my parents divorced, my dog died, and doctors thought I might have a cancerous mole on my back.
This all happened on the same weekend.
Just a year and a half before this harrowing weekend, I was laying in my dorm room, praying and offering my life to God in a renewed way. That’s whenI had a wild, mystical experience that ended with God audibly and gently speaking to me: “Child, be Mine.” The encounter left me with a stark sense of the reality of God’s presence in my life.
Typically, this is where someone would share that they experienced a caterpillar-to-butterfly life-transformation. And I did!
But in the wrong direction.
Just a month and a half after hearing the audible voice of the Creator of the Universe, I stole my best friend’s girlfriend. I started avoiding my new college friends who were leading me towards God.
And then I ignored God.
It took a year and some hard conversations with friends to realize that I had my priorities wrong. I didn’t love my girlfriend—I idolized her. I had great friends at college, but I wasn’t being a great friend. And while God was devoted to me, I was not devoted to Him.
So as my life fell apart during one long weekend, I started to wonder—is God angry with me?
God must be smiting me with all of these horrible circumstances with my parents, my dog, and my health. Right?
This sense of distance and separation due to (perceived or real) anger can be, and most often is, traumatic. As a response, we develop systems, distractions, anesthetics, and even religions to get by at the least, and to try to appease God at the most.
But this sort of response is based in fear. And this fear in the darkness must, it just must mean God is angry with us. Right?
Advent season is a time to settle in our hearts this truth: Though we live in the shadow of deserving wrath, God has revealed, and will reveal again, that although He was angry, He has chosen to come and comfort us.
In other words, as Exodus 34:6 says, “He is slow to anger but abounding in love.”
As odd as it sounds, that weekend during which my parents divorced, my dog died, and my health was on thin ice became a gift to me. It was a wake-up call. I learned that I couldn’t atone for myself, that life and its circumstances are bigger than my best and my worst decisions.
There was plenty to be afraid of in that season, but God was my salvation.
He spared me a cancer diagnosis. And through the death of my dog Marcy and the misery of my parents’ divorce, I grew closer to my family and developed an empathy for others—an empathy that led me to choose a career in ministry.
I’m currently persevering through two chronic health issues. At times, it’s easy to begin to wonder afresh, “Is God mad at me?”
But God has been faithful to nudge me back to the truth, back to His heart on the matter of me and my health.
The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense;
he has become my salvation.”
With joy you will draw water
from the wells of salvation.
Instead of remaining in a state of fear, I can trust—with joy even!—that He is currently my strength, my defense, and my salvation. My sins don’t keep me from joyfully drawing from the wells of His salvation.
Advent, alongside the memory of God’s faithfulness already displayed in my life, reminds me that no matter how long I’m in this current season of waiting and expectation, my rescue will surely come.
“Child, be Mine,” He says again and again. And I’ll respond with a life that proclaims, “Father, I’m Yours.”
—Philip Schiavoni serves as Area Director, supervising campus staff members in the Mid-Atlantic region.