Advent began Sunday a week ago and I made the mistake of reading Mark 13, so get ready for some Advent cheer, y’all.
Wars and rumours of wars? Check.
Persecution and destruction? Check.
Earthquakes and famines? Check.
Why does it always feel like we’re living at the end of the world?
We’re all well aware that ‘big picture’ things aren’t great — this tension we hold as we see all that’s happening in the world and try to reconcile that with the hope of the season. It’s hard. Even in our tiny little lives, we’re constantly living between a problem and a solution, between sickness and health, between hope and a miracle. We all have to live through this time — wherever we find ourselves right now. And it sucks. If you think about it, is there ever a time when we're not living in this tension?
Okay, I should just lighten up.
As I’m writing this, it’s early and it’s dark outside. (A reminder that everything starts in the dark.) Writing early in the morning helps me let go of my grip on the night. It reminds me of how lucky I am to have the promise of a new day amidst the difficulties and agonies of our imperfect existence.
These weeks leading up to Christmas are among my favourite times of the year when I purposely pause and try to think small. As in moments. It’s difficult letting go of all that’s calling for our attention right now — namely the blitz of holiday prep and the usual sparkly stuff. Oh, did I mention the news? Right now, I crave a monk-like need for ritual.
This season always happens so quickly. If you blink you miss it and all the moments. I think I’ll just sit here and stare at a candle and breathe deeply into a kind of contemplative trance. I’m going to let The Moment take the lead. In a world gone mad, The Moment seems to be the truest thing there is right now.
So grab a fig.
And as far as hope, peace, joy, and love are concerned...
I’m going to trust myself absolutely about what gets in the way of that.
