He's still working—even if I can't see it
A word for 2024
A little late, but it’s that time of year again! I thought I would share my word of the year for 2024 with you.
The Abiding Together Podcast usually has an annual episode devoted to this topic. Catholic standup comedian Jennifer Fulwiler created a random word generator for this purpose.
I've been doing this for a few years myself, and it's always been a beautiful lens to see how God works in my life.
As I've done in previous years, I started praying about this during Advent. I love using Advent as a time to reflect on the year that has been, and look ahead to next year.
One of the Gospels that stood out to me during the Advent lectionary cycle is the Annunciation to Zechariah (Luke 1). The Angel Gabriel appears to Zechariah to tell him that his wife Elizabeth—who is elderly and supposedly barren—will bear a son. Confused, Zechariah questions Gabriel. But this questioning results in Zechariah becoming mute (see Luke 1:20-23).
The story has yet another plot twist: Elizabeth conceives. And instead of going out to show off and bask in this miracle—which I feel like would be a totally normal response—scripture says that “for five months she hid herself.” She goes on to say, "This is what the Lord has done for me in this time, when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people" (Luke 1:24-25).
Seclusion. Obscurity. Going inward. This was Elizabeth's response in the midst of God’s mighty work in her life. And as I prayed with this, it occurred to me that I am invited to be more like Elizabeth.
There are so many things that happen to Elizabeth that are miraculous and also confusing. Many of these things are hidden to her, echoing what the Psalmist says: "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it" (Psalm 139:6).
God did some incredible things in my life over 2023, many of which are still a mystery to me. In this new chapter of my life, I find things to be even more mysterious.
Sometimes it feels like I’m walking in the dark: I can't see a thing, and I’m forced in a way to move slowly. And if I had to describe these last few months of my life since coming home to Vancouver, it would be that: slow.
In the slowness, the hidden Lord doesn't taunt me. Day after day there is an invitation to draw closer to Him in this hiddenness. Some days it feels natural to go close to Him in this way. But other days, it's painful.
But one thing is for certain: He's still working, even if I can't see it.
The image of seeds planted into the ground come to mind. My word last year was deeper, and I see a beautiful continuation of that into this word of hidden. Last year, a lot of foundational work took place with the Lord, and He really put the seeds of my desires deep in the ground.
Now, the seeds are in the ground. Depending on what you are planting, some seeds are on the surface, and some are deep in the ground. But regardless of where they are, a lot of the work of growing is hidden to the human eye. We water, we tend, we prune: but the rest of the growing process is a mystery to us.
I think this is the invitation for this year: to trust that God is working even though I can't see it in an obvious way. And what's more: it's His perogative that it's not immediately obvious to me.
When God grants understanding, it is a gift of grace. But we are not owed that understanding—and sometimes, that is the part where we need to die to ourselves.
I'll be the first to admit my desire for control. But over the last several years of choosing a word for the year, one thing has remained: God invites me to surrender.
Elizabeth is a beautiful example of someone who let's God do what He needs to, the way He wants to. She is neither passive nor aggressive: She recognizes the power of the Lord, and spends time pondering His glory in her heart. We see this also in Mary, who Luke records as another woman who ponders the words of God in her heart (cf. Luke 2:19, 51).
God has done miraculous things in each of our lives. He's planted beautiful seeds of desire in our little gardens. And even though the process might be obscure, He’s making things happen in His ways and time.
Maybe this year, I can let Him do what He does best: Be God.
In Jesus Master,
Rachel