Prepare

The Second Sunday of Advent

The Lord has been mindful of us

and will bless us

Psalm 115:12

Sometimes in order to prepare, we need to collect stuff. Likes gathering and setting out all the ingredients for a recipe before beginning the baking process.

Sometimes in order to prepare, we need to remove stuff. Like putting away coats and shoes and clearing off furniture and tables before company arrives.

And sometimes in order to prepare, we need to repent. Like taking stock of our lives and seeing where we have been at fault and confessing our sins and turning back to God.

Repenting can be about cleaning up our mess. Not because someone tells us to, or because we don’t want to get in trouble for it. But because it is the right thing to do. Because it will make the world better. Because it makes room for new life: in our lives and in our community.

Repenting can be full of joy. It can include setting down burdens we have been carrying and letting light into our lives.

Prepare. Make room. Repent. Make ready. Expect new life out of a stump. God sees us. Always. And God’s blessing is already on its way.

Refuge

Friday of the First Week of Advent

Show me your marvelous loving-kindness

O Savior of those who take refuge at your right hand

from those who rise up against them.

Psalm 17:7

I curl up in a favorite chair, warmed by an afghan and the winter sun streaming through the window. Also wrapped around me is a sense of God’s loving-kindness. I marvel at the gifts around me. The sun. The comfort. The ability to see and perceive. This moment of refuge.

A refuge is not just a place of retreat. It is a harbor, a place to rest and to rebuild. Where supplies and skill are at hand to repair and provision. In order to sail forth once again, to explore, to seek out, to engage with the world.

To take refuge with God, to retreat into the marvelous loving-kindness, is an act of wisdom and strength. Of expectant hope.

Invitation to an Open Place

Thursday of the First Week of Advent

The Lord brought me out into an open place,

and rescued me because the Holy One delighted in me.

Psalm 18:20

As I drive down the country road toward the nursery, I am surprised by a sense of eager anticipation. I am on my way to pick-up greens for the church, which could be perceived of as a bothersome errand. Yet, I am not at all cranky; I am joyful. I realize that I am excited about this season, about preparing for Christmas. And that this excitement has somehow caught me unawares.

As befitting the Advent theme, I feel like I am waking up. Waking up to the return of traditions and practices that had to be laid aside the last couple of years. Waking up to new and renewed relationships. Waking up to possibilities.

I had not expected replenished energy in my soul. Yet there it is, lightening my burdens and lighting the way ahead. I can see that what now unfolds before me is new, is of this time, not of the time before.

Somewhere ahead of me, an infant of the infinite awaits. I will not hurry. I will take the time that is needed. I step into the open invitation and let sacred delight wash through me.

Vulnerable and near

Wednesday of the First Week of Advent

Feast of St. Andrew

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted

and will save those whose spirits are crushed

Psalm 34:18

The cold rainy day both evokes pensiveness and soothes my soul. The early darkness calls to me of Adventide and lighting candles to dispel the gloom. Add a bit of quiet solitude and I find myself stepping across a liminal space in my day and into the mystery of the season.

God is mystery both far and near. God’s thoughts as far away from our way of thinking as heaven is from earth, God’s magnificence so awe-inspiring that we could do nothing but collapse if were we actually in the presence of the Holy One.

And God is as close and vulnerable as a newborn, as an infant on its mother breast. God comes near, enfolds the broken, finds the lost, comforts the mournful.

I yearn for the birth that awaits.

Ribbon of light

Tuesday of the First Week of Advent

You will shelter them,
so that those who love your Name

may exult in you.
Psalm 5:14

The morning sun weaves a ribbon of rosy-orange in and out of the bare trees. I am grateful as I absorb this ordinary moment of exquisite beauty.

Later in the day, I close my eyes and revisit that ribbon, taking it up, following along the path it has laid across the day, knowing it has traveled with me or even carried me to this moment.

And if later I quiet myself again, the ribbon of light will still be my companion, a reminder of the sacred tie that binds me to the Holy. Guiding and accompanying. Protecting and sheltering. Calling my soul to sing out. 

Advent waiting at the DMV

Monday of the First Week of Advent

Lord, how many adversaries I have!
how many there are who rise up against me!
Psalm 3:1

Waiting is the Advent theme, so of course it makes sense that I would begin this morning with a trip to the DMV. I prepared for this trip for weeks. Literally. I scanned the website thoroughly, followed links, and actually read all the fine print. All of it. Multiple times.

My oldest and I prepared for the excursion together, as we both needed to be there in person. We compared notes, printed out forms, and made sure we had all the necessary documentation. We even had a contingency plan based on the probability that we would be found wanting and would have to come back another day. And we had reading material for the time we would spend waiting.

We arrived and were met by a guard at the door who informed us that as of this month, we had to have an appointment. No walk ins. I am convinced this information was not on the website. But then he said, “I see you have all your forms, you can go on in,” and  smiled.

And from there it was a breeze. No waiting. Friendly employees. No obstacles, but rather a path made smooth.

In Advent, I am expectant. And now I am reminded that I would do well to expect advocates rather than adversaries, to turn away from the voice that compels me to be anxious, to lean toward the glorious new life already on its way.

Advent - the coming

 

How do we prepare for the unexpected?

seasons past have taught me that 

hope is precarious

and contagious

new life comes with vulnerability

and tenacity

The Advent, the coming, is certain

the hour remains sacred mystery

Come thou long expected one