Remarkable

Thursday of the Second Week of Advent

Take delight in the Lord,

and God shall give you your heart’s desire. 

Psalm 37:4

It has been a day of banking and forms and problem-solving. And prayer. As I close files and clear my workspace to leave the office for the day, I offer a prayer of gratitude to God. I am grateful for the skills and experience I have gained along the way that make it possible for me to do my job well. And to love doing it. 

Certainly, there are days when the work is difficult and the road tedious. Yet the balance of my time living into my vocation is delight. And contentment. And often awe.

The way to the manger can seem a road so well-trodden that it is hardly remarkable. And this is why I pray. That I may always see the stars strewn along the path and know I step toward a holy mystery that will overflow my heart.

 

Clinging to Dust

Wednesday of the Second Week of Advent

My soul cleaves to the dust;

give me life according to your word.

Psalm 119:25

My soul cleaves to the dust in my house, the dust on the Advent road, the dust of grief and discouragement. I feel weary. I look at a week’s worth of mail heaped on the hall table and wonder how many important papers might be lost within it.

I sigh. Then, I acknowledge my weariness and offer it to God. And in doing so, feel the weight of it lessen. I look at the table again and decide I can at least throw the junk mail away. And having done that, I tidy up one pile. Then one more. I put away one thing. And then one more. I choose one task at a time. Commit to one doable thing. And as the clutter around me clears, the lethargy within me begins to clear as well.

As I move gently from task to task, I sense the holy One, breathing tenderness and words of life around me and into me and through me. I rest for a moment. And then another. And then one moment more. Still tired. No longer burdened. Another day along the Advent path. 

Family traditions

Tuesday of the Second Week of Advent

Feast of St. Nicholas

We will recount to generations to come

the praiseworthy deeds and power of the Holy One

and the wonderful works God has done.

Psalm 78:4

The container of gold-wrapped chocolate coins on the store shelf catches my eye. A perfect day to spy them. Today is the Feast of St. Nicholas, and when our children were little, they left their shoes by the door on the eve of this feast for the saint to leave chocolate coins in them. One of our loved family traditions.

Some years I was ready, other times I was making hectic runs to different stores trying to find the coins at the last minute. Now, when I am not looking, and when my offspring are young adults no longer at home, I am met with this abundance. Not wanting to waste my find, I take a picture and text it my kids.

The psalmist reminds us of that we pass along our faith stories so that the generations to come might know, and the children yet unborn, that they in their turn might tell it to their children; so that they might put their trust in God. Sometimes putting my trust in God is like leaving my shoes, or my soul, by the door and knowing they will be filled.

Boundless

Monday of the Second Week of Advent

I will give thanks to you, O Lord, with my whole heart;

I will tell of all your marvelous works.

Psalm 9:1

I do not understand lumens. Trying to find the right lightbulb is opaque to me these days. If it were watts, 25, 40, or 100, I would have an idea of just how bright it would be. Soft white, blue, or daylight would tell me something about the quality. My light vocabulary and knowledge are out of date.

And as I watch the afternoon light outside my window shift with each passing minute, I think how inadequate and less-than my indoor lighting choices really are. Could there be a bulb to replicate three o’clock in the afternoon on a winter’s day, or dawn in the spring, or six minutes after nine on a midsummer’s evening?

And how pallid is the minute-to-minute play of reflected light in the world around me compared to the boundless glory of God? How can I begin to tell of the marvelous works of the Holy One?  

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.