Why is it that I feel the "finally!" of the first day of Advent more than on Christmas? Advent is finally here and this low, deep, sleeping silence of waiting is pure gift itself. I feel as though I get to float in the warm, embryonic waters of creation, waiting for birth, but content in the stillness. Then, in the very next moment I panic, and sink, limbs flailing -- feeling like maybe shopping really will silence the hunger pangs brought on by my binge and purge spiritual life. Surely God cannot come into this mess. Except for the fact that God always does.
I will do just about anything but willingly hear your still small voice, your beckoning, your amazing and really hard to believe YES to us and to me and to all your creation. I wait for this tiny yet uncontainable yes of your light entering the world. This birth of holiness, this flesh of salvation in the muck of our existence. It is all I need and I bid you come. Even now. Even to me. Even to this place.
In Jesus' name,