My hope and prayer for you is that you will seek the quiet of this season, that you will find a place or practice or both, and that you will attend to “what is being born in you” during this incredibly significant time in the life of the Church.
As I’ve been thinking upon Advent and the start of the Christian year, as our “big year” rounds the corner into the last weeks, and as I anticipate the time when our family of five is gathered together again for a season of days…..all of this has created a quiet hum in my heart.
It’s the same hum I felt when we entered the ancient grove of redwoods during our anniversary trip. We were so small and those spires were so tall and majestic, there was a sacred hush as we walked along the forest floor – everywhere ancient life, such deep knowing, so many years – the hum of Advent.
It’s that moment when you enter the butterfly garden and work your way to the cocoons – completely still, yet not – nothing happening and everything happening at exactly the same time. Life quivering, waiting to burst forth – this is the hum of Advent.
It’s why I love greenhouses and what they represent – little seeds in rich humus, buried deep in the darkness, waiting to be born.
It’s why I love the smell of yeast, why I enjoy pounding and kneading away at the dough. I set it to rise in a warm place, and trust the leaven will do its work. When I return, the flour will have found new life, bursting the bowl and ready for the oven and those that love warm bread.
The world was going about its business, travelers were partaking in a census, families were gathering in villages…..but someone was about to be born….God was about to come on the scene as one of us…..nothing would ever be the same. This is the hum of Advent – that quiet darkness, the slow journey on a donkey, the moments when the world hovers in darkness – the seed, the yeast, the cocoon.
Advent is small and quiet, it is intimate and personal. It is the coming of the Christ Child – remembering the first time and hoping for the second and last.
My prayer is that you settle into the season, look and listen for the hum. Create a little space with a candle or two, add some greenery – a jar of seeds or yeast and commit to quiet for some part of each day. Or adopt a new practice for these weeks – take a walk each day and pray for your neighbors, set to work baking and cooking and then give it all away and let no one know it was you, find one person that you see almost every day, and commit to calling forth their story – blessing them in this season.
So grateful for you all.
Be the Kingdom this week.