So Advent is upon us. The season of hope-filled expectation. The time when we are supposed to wait, relax, ease into the excitement that is Christmas. And no, I don't me the major consumer festivities, but the day that Jesus, the one who came, enfleshed himself, and walked around with us, that we might live and live more abundantly. But this season comes when we are probably at our most stressed - too many things to do, too much money to spend (and the bills loom off in the mid-January distance), and not enough of either for us to be comfortable. Preachers tell their congregations, use this time to reflect, to clean ourselves out and ready ourselves for Jesus' birth just a few weeks away. To let go of obligations and free ourselves. But neither of those things make sense with everything around us. I am busier and less free than I am at nearly every other time in my life (minus Holy Week and Easter). And it all feels like an emotional disconnect, if you will.
I am not a patient person. I can see that most clearly when I watch my son - my genes in action, as I like to say. I hate waiting. Not in lines or in traffic, but for important things, like my tax return or whether or not I am going to get audited. Or for my husband's VISA bill, which is generally higher than I really expect. I guess, then, I am not very good at waiting for doom. (Maybe that's why Lent always seems to drag on.) The other thing I hate is missing out on something. I have always hated that. Its why I could never settle down into a major in college, instead, majoring in two subjects with two other minors. Its the little sister thing, I suppose, always watching my big sis go off and do something, while I stayed behind because I was too young (or lame, as she would remind me).
So this season, not so easy for me. But this year, I suppose is different, because instead of just being busy like before, I feel the urge inside me to settle down. To practice waiting and letting opportunities pass. And an equally strong urge makes me panic when I can't get to something. When I get left behind because I have to take care of the baby. And another urge that makes me cry because I wanted to move the piano right then when my husband just wanted to sit down and eat some dinner first (oh, wait, maybe that's the hormones). It reminds me of Paul, in one of his letters (I am Episcopalian, after all, I don't know the verses and chapters) when he says (and I am paraphrasing), "Why is it, when I want to do good, evil sneaks in and takes over and I end up doing the opposite?" I have the urge to be Advent-y, and yet there I go again, rearranging my house (while my husband is trying to sleep) and keeping myself busy. At least we remembered to light a candle (but not the purple/pink ones because we couldn't find any last night when we searched Target), read a meditation, and open our calendar (which I didn't even remember to buy - my dad sent it to my son). I want to embrace the season with everything. So, today, at least. I tried. And maybe tomorrow we can find the right candles and do it right. One step at a time...
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