Advent. The season of waiting. Of preparation. Of renewal.
This year, it's unsettled me. It's awakened desires buried deep within my heart, the ones covered in dirt and dust, ones that I didn't even realize existed. And breathed new life into the hopes that were just barely alive.
It's wrecked me, as I realize how chaotic and disarrayed the world is and how disintegrated and disheveled my own heart is.
It's amplified the cry of my heart for peace, for well-being, for right-ness. The cry for all things to be made whole, fruitful, alive.
I hear lines in my favorite songs:
The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friends.
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger... (O Holy Night)
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight...(O Come O Come Emmanuel)
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth (Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)
No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found... (Joy to the World)
and everything within me swells with joy.
C.S. Lewis said "Our best havings are wantings." I think he's right. I would rather feel the pain of being incomplete, the wanting for 'something more' than be perfectly content and complacent.
Most of the time, it's easy to stuff these longings away. It's more comfortable to quiet them with things that make me feel good. Even if those things aren't really so bad in and of themselves. Friends. Family. School. Work. Workouts. Unless the rhythms of life are disrupted somehow, it all keeps going and going, and I forget that eternity looms.
And that's why Advent is glorious. It forces us to push pause. It disrupts 'normal.' It's a wake-up call to reality, a call to throw off the covers, get out of bed, and take a breath of cold, fresh mountain air...
Our King is Coming.
