Advent Musings

I can’t believe our Christmas countdown can already be contained to one hand. I want to grab time by the tail and cage it momentarily. I want to savor and celebrate and BE STILL. But there are dozens of presents yet to wrap, plenty of food to still prepare, and excited children to entertain.

When I begin my day in the quiet glow of the Christmas tree, the worshipper within me screams “PAUSE,” but as I battle a swollen crowd in the skinny aisles of WalMart just to restock our dwindling supply of toilet paper (should have bought a case of Charmin in November!), the world around me hollers, “HURRY!” And so, though this week is marked by excitement and anticipation, it is also hemmed with frustration.  How does a mom of five rise above the tide of to-do’s and absorb the enormity of Advent’s end? How does a woman buried in diapers and toddler tantrums, cookie-making and holiday hosting linger at the manger?

The question posed in my Advent devotional this morning still looms in my mind even now at the day’s end. Walter Wangerin Jr. asks, “Do we, who are busy preparing for Christmas, parties and presents and decorations and food and church programs- and visitors- do we prepare with equal fervor for the visitation of the Lord?  What sort of Advent is this imminent Advent for you? If you are consumed by one more Christmas (one mere Christmas among two thousand) your Advent is fleeting, time-bound, and likely self-absorbed…. But if your participation in this temporal  Advent truly signified preparations for the final Advent, you are Christ-absorbed.” (Preparing for Jesus, p 96-97).

At the moment, my children are tucked safely in their beds, and darkness wraps our home in atypical silence. I am alone, left to wrestle with my tired body’s plea for sleep and my hungry spirit’s cry for nourishment. I pick up my Bible and read of a young woman whose soul magnified the Lord (Luke 1:46-49). I want mine to do the same. I read of a child who “grew strong in the spirit,” (Luke 1:66). I long to grow like that, too. I read of a young carpenter who traded his comfortable life blueprint for the Lord’s wild plan (Matthew 1:20-25).  I, too, want to embrace God’s dreams even if they don’t make sense.

But tomorrow when the baby’s cries pull me from bed before dawn kisses my window with muted pink light, will I yearn for the better things? Tomorrow, when the washing machine’s constant hum invades my quiet, when screams shatter my stillness, when tattle-tale reports muddle my mind, will I still listen to the cry of my heart? Or muffle it beneath the maintenance of life? A haircut at 9, cookies to deliver at 10, a story to read in first grade at 12. Nap time. Playtime. Dinnertime. Bedtime. Dishes to scrub. Mail to sort. Laundry to clean.

As the clock ticks away the final days of the 38th Advent season of my life, will I truly prepare for Christ? As I prepare to mark His manger birth, am I birthing a new awareness of His presence in my life? Am I making room for His plans even if they re-arrange mine? Am I seeking Him or just seeking what He can do for me?

I want Christmas to change me. Moment by moment, I want to make room for my Savior as Mary made room in her womb. I want my soul to dance in His presence like the in-utero-John the Baptist leaped in response to his unseen Lord. I want to live in the light of Advent until my faith becomes sight and I fall into the arms of my Christmas King.

Show me how, dear Jesus, show me how.

The Overflow:  “And Mary said, “My soul maginfies the Lord, And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…”