The Waiting Place
Church, we gather here on this last Sunday of Advent, standing in that holy space between promise and fulfillment. We've been waiting—waiting like our ancestors waited, waiting like Mary waited, waiting for Love to show up and show out.
But let me ask you something this morning: What do you do when you've been sowing love—planting it, watering it, tending it—and it seems like love don't love you back?
The Tears of the Sowers
Psalm 126 opens with a dream: "When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed." Our people knew something about dreaming while in captivity. They knew about singing the Lord's song in a strange land. They knew about loving a God who seemed silent, praying prayers that felt like they bounced off the ceiling.
They went out weeping, carrying seed to sow. Can you imagine? Crying while you're planting. Working while you're wondering. Believing while you're barely holding on.
That's the thing about sowing in tears—you're doing the work of faith even when your heart is breaking. You're putting love into the ground even when it feels like love has walked out on you.
When Love Don't Love You Back
Some of you came in here this morning, and you've been loving hard:
Loving children who won't call you back
Loving a community that's turned its back on you
Loving a church that's hurt you
Loving a God who feels far away
You've been sowing seeds of kindness, seeds of forgiveness, seeds of hope—and the harvest seems like it's never coming.
You're struggling just to keep believing. The weight of unreturned love is strangling the hope right out of you. You're fighting to breathe, fighting to stay faithful, fighting to keep planting when you can't see the harvest.
But the psalmist says something powerful: "Those who sow with tears WILL reap with songs of joy."
Not "might." Not "maybe." WILL.
A Song of Deliverance
This psalm is a song of deliverance, church. It's the testimony of people who were delivered from Babylon, brought back from captivity, liberated when they thought they'd never see home again.
And I came to tell you this morning: God is still in the deliverance business.
The same God who spared their lives, who broke their chains, who brought them home singing—that's the God we serve today.
So let me share with you a word, a poem, a testimony of what deliverance looks like:
Come Celebrate With: A Song of Deliverance
Come celebrate with those whom the Lord has brought back—
From captivity to freedom, from darkness to light,
From the chains that held them to the songs in the night.
Come Celebrate With...
Come celebrate with the mother
Who was struggling to breathe under bills and despair,
But God made a way when there wasn't no way,
Spared her life from the strangling grip of anxiety—
Now she's breathing in freedom, exhaling in praise.
Come celebrate with the father
Who battled addiction's chokehold on his soul,
Every day a struggle, every night a fight,
But deliverance came like the morning light,
God broke the chains and spared his life.
Come celebrate with the sister
Who was drowning in depression's dark water,
Struggling to survive, strangling on sorrow,
But the Lord reached down and pulled her up—
Now her mouth is filled with laughter,
Her tongue with songs of joy.
Come celebrate with the brother
Who was trapped in the prison of unforgiveness,
Strangling on bitterness, struggling with rage,
But liberation came when he learned to release,
And God spared his life from the poison within.
The Testimony of Deliverance
"When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dreamed."
We were struggling—
Struggling to believe, struggling to hold on,
Struggling to see past the pain.
We were strangling—
Strangling on fear, strangling on doubt,
Strangling on the weight of what we carried.
But God...
But God stepped in like He always does,
Spared our lives when death was knocking,
Brought deliverance when we were bound,
Gave liberation when we were locked down.
Already and Not Yet
This Advent, we wait in the tension:
Already delivered, but not yet complete.
Already freed, but still fighting.
Already liberated, but still longing.
Come celebrate with the Israelites—
Delivered from Egypt through the Red Sea,
Yet wandering forty years to reach the promise.
Come celebrate with Joseph—
Loved his brothers, but they threw him in a pit,
Struggling in slavery, strangling on injustice,
But God spared his life and brought deliverance,
Made him second in command,
And he said: "You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good."
Come celebrate with Daniel—
Delivered from the lions' den that should have devoured him,
God spared his life when the enemy meant to destroy.
Come celebrate with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—
Walking in the fire but not consumed,
Struggling in the flames but not strangling,
Because the fourth man was with them.
Come celebrate with Job—
Loved God and lost everything,
Struggling with questions, strangling on grief,
But he held on: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him,"
And God restored double what was taken.
Come celebrate with David—
Loved King Saul, but Saul tried to kill him,
Running for his life, struggling in caves,
But God spared him, delivered him,
Made him the king after God's own heart.
Come celebrate with Peter—
Sleeping in chains, awaiting execution,
But an angel broke in, broke him out,
Liberation came in the midnight hour.
Come celebrate with Paul and Silas—
Backs bleeding, feet in stocks, struggling in prison,
But they sang anyway, praised anyway,
And deliverance came with an earthquake.
The Ultimate Deliverance
Come celebrate with Mary—
Who carried in her womb the Deliverer Himself,
The One who would spare the life of the world,
The One who would break every chain.
Come celebrate with the Baby in the manger—
Born to set the captives free,
Born to bring liberation to the struggling,
Born to give breath to those strangling under sin's weight.
For Christmas is God's deliverance song:
"I have come that they might have life,
And have it more abundantly."
Back to the Sermon
The Promise in Your Tears
You see, church, God doesn't waste your tears. Every tear you've cried while loving anyway, while showing up anyway, while believing anyway—God has bottled it up. Those tears are watering something you can't see yet.
Here's the beautiful mystery of the gospel: We are the ones who didn't love God back.
We were in rebellion. We were in sin. We were in captivity to death and hell. We were struggling under the weight of our own brokenness, strangling on our own sin.
But God loved us anyway.
Christmas is God's answer to unreturned love:
"For God so loved the world..."—even when the world didn't love Him back.
Jesus is God sowing in tears:
Weeping over Jerusalem
Weeping in Gethsemane
Crying out on Calvary, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
But Easter morning—oh, Easter morning!—that's when the harvest came up.
Death couldn't hold Him.
The grave couldn't keep Him.
He came back with songs of joy, carrying sheaves of salvation.
That's deliverance. That's liberation. That's God sparing not just our lives, but our souls.
Your Deliverance Testimony
Church, what's your deliverance story?
Where did God spare your life?
How did He bring you through when you were struggling?
When were you set free from what was strangling you?
Maybe it was:
The diagnosis that should have taken you out—but God spared your life
The depression that had you bound—but God brought liberation
The addiction that was killing you—but God delivered you
The debt that was drowning you—but God made a way
The relationship that was destroying you—but God set you free
The bitterness that was eating you alive—but God gave you grace to forgive
Whatever your Babylon was, God brought you back.
Whatever your captivity was, God brought you home.
Whatever was strangling you, God gave you breath.
Whatever was struggling you, God gave you strength.
The Harvest Is Coming
This Advent season, as we wait for Christmas morning, remember: The seed that went into the ground in a manger will come up as a Savior. The love that was born in Bethlehem will die on Calvary and rise on Easter morning.
When you plant love—even when it feels unreturned, even when it feels unrequited, even when it feels unreasonable—you're partnering with the God who is Love Himself.
And church, I came to prophesy to somebody today: Your harvest is coming.
Those sheaves—those bundles of blessing, those answers to prayer, those prodigals coming home, that joy you've been waiting for, that deliverance you've been crying for—they're on their way.
The same God who:
Brought the exiles home from Babylon
Spared Daniel in the lions' den
Delivered Peter from prison
Liberated Paul and Silas from chains
Brought Jesus out of the grave
That's the same God who will turn your mourning into dancing, your tears into triumph, your struggle into strength, your strangling into singing.
The Invitation
"Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy."
So come celebrate with us—
Come celebrate deliverance!
Come celebrate liberation!
Come celebrate the God who spares lives!
If you're still struggling, keep holding on—your deliverance is coming.
If you're still strangling, keep breathing—your liberation is near.
If you're still in captivity, keep believing—your freedom is on the way.
If love don't love you back, keep loving—because God's love never fails.
Because the same God who delivered then is delivering now,
And the Baby we're about to celebrate is the Deliverer we've been waiting for.
Closing: Keep Planting
So this morning, on this last Sunday of Advent, I want you to do something:
Hold your tears, but keep planting.
Hold your disappointment, but keep loving.
Hold your questions, but keep believing.
Hold your struggle, but keep praising.
Hold your pain, but keep hoping.
Because in just a few days, we're going to celebrate the ultimate proof that when we sow love—even in tears, even in doubt, even in darkness, even when love don't love us back—God brings forth life.
Love is coming.
Love is here.
Love was born in a manger.
Love died on a cross.
Love rose from a grave.
And Love will have the last word.
Benediction
May the Lord who brought the captives home
Bring you home to peace.
May the Lord who spared Daniel in the den
Spare your life from every trap.
May the Lord who liberated Peter from prison
Liberate you from every chain.
May the Lord who freed you from sin and death
Free you from every bondage still holding you.
May the Lord who was born in Bethlehem
Be born afresh in your heart today.
Come celebrate with those who know:
Deliverance is not just coming—Deliverance is here.
His name is Jesus, and He came to set us free.
"The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy."
— Psalm 126:3
Amen and Amen.
