Beginning with Thanksgiving and then through this weekend I've been coming around the bend, and now here it is: Advent. Each year I relish it richer, experience it deeper – the coming of the Light. Preparing for the mystery – the mystery of God in a body (now, too, in the Body), of God dwelling among us, and all which surrounds that. This year I have felt the earth shaking beneath me in new ways than in years past, and heard a million voices shouting over me, but I'm listening to the voice of my Good Shepherd who leads me beside still waters, who leads me to the firm ground, to the solid rock, to the stable in the stable.
When I live the Advent season, I'm not waiting so much as preparing... for the silent night broken open by a crying baby and thundering wondering angels' song pronouncing Hope, announcing Peace himself on Earth. On the surface, on the outside, the Peace can be hard to see, because he came to the world in a young virgin's womb and it's from the inside out that he's making all things new. So in the middle of the busy, and in the mornings and evenings that surround it, I'll be still in my inmost place, and I'll ponder and treasure the mystery, and I will see the Peace.
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