Advent

It's been a dark beginning to the Christmas season. Some news we had hoped for that didn't pan out. Lease on our place is almost up - lots of discussion about where we want to be, and wondering if that can even happen. Trips to the dentist with the kids, charged with emotion and fear...ending badly. Bills. Discouragement in relationships. Listening to a sermon on our hope as Christians and feeling none of it personally. The weight of leading people in worship when my own soul is downcast. I'm not ready for "Joy to the World" yet. I am still in the longing of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel."

The choir sang a introit on Sunday entitled, By Night. "By night we hasten in darkness to seek for the living water. Only our thirst lights us onwards, only our thirst light us onwards." I loved it. It was minor and rich and full of dissonance. It expressed a truth I could honestly proclaim this week. How refreshing to begin a service with this sentiment, rather than false platitudes. And how important for me to remember that church is a place where such struggles can and should be expressed.

In small group last week, the idea of perspective came up. It's like a parachute cord you pull and suddenly see with broader vision. A sometimes violent yank out of the present and then a glorious flight into past and future as well. Who ever said that advent was supposed to be all joy and fluff? It's not. Advent is dark. It is longing. It is a lament, with hope on the horizon.

I yanked my cord on Saturday as I joined with some friends to chops down trees for the church sanctuary. A cold, but beautiful sunny mountain morning. Hot chocolate loaded into the pack, driving out to the permit area with some spoken words from Walt Wangerin. Climbing a snowy hillside like a child, hands and feet buried in white to reach the perfect trees. Sliding back down with tree in tow, the smells of fresh cut pine filling my senses. Joy creeping back in in the shared experience of serving and fellowship.

Psalm 30:5 comes to mind, "weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." Weeks 1, 2 of advent were a time to enter into the darkness, but week 3 is where a shift begins. A shift into joy.

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