Well, I wondered when this posting-every-day-of-Advent was going to hit a wall in terms of inspiration; turns out it's today. 10 days in--not too shabby, in the grand scheme.
Even as I write new pieces this season, I've found myself returning to Advent posts that I wrote five and six years ago, and feeling fresh meaning in them at a very different place in my life. So I want to share one of those pieces today.
I wrote this during Advent six years ago, when I lived in Charlotte, in a cozy brick duplex full of character that has since been heartachingly replaced by a massive ugly overgrown thing that barely fits in the small square corner lot. It was my first year living by myself, my first place of my own, and for that it will always hold a special place in my heart.
The other bit you should know is that I worked at a church just down the road, and this was my first Advent season putting together the worship bulletins. So here we are, a flashback to Advent 2011 (when I also felt less of a need for capital letters and, sometimes, punctuation).
At work I type hymn titles;
they get stuck in my head:
come, thou lo-ong ex-pect-ed je-e-sus
I look up and rain is pounding
born to set thy pe-e-ople free
all I want is a fireplace, cracklecozy
from our fears and sins release us
and union cafe hot chocolate
let us find our rest in thee
I am trying to feel out this time of wait, weight
the ad-vent, in-vent of something new?
I would like it to be more than the sudden
rush, whoosh, jump thump stump, but --
how do you weight, wait, wake, awake
at a desk, in your car, in your sleep?
Hours sleep, seep away and I feel, wait, WAIT!
My favorite time of day, I think, is lunch:
I stand in my tiny sun-soaked kitchen,
reheating beans and rice; water spins in my kettle.
Terri Gross's fresh air voice wraps 'round me.
I feel frozen with potential in this one quiet hour,
imagining what I could do if the sun never set,
and yet --
wake, awake, for night is flyyyyying...
(How can it be both?)
Advent, full and thrumming.