The following is an excerpt from Watch for the Light, a collection of readings for Advent published in 2001:

“Though advent (literally “arrival”) has been observed for centuries as a time to contemplate Christ’s birth, most people today acknowledge it only with a blank look.  For the vast majority of us, December flies by in a flurry of activities, and what is called the “holiday season” turns out to be the most stressful time of the year.

It is also a time of contrasting emotions.  We are eager, yet frazzled; sentimental, yet indifferent.  One minute we glow at the thought of getting together with our family and friends; the next we feel utterly lonely.  Our hope is mingled with dread, our anticipation with despair.  We sense the deeper meanings of the season but grasp at them in vain; and in the end, all the bustle leaves us frustrated and drained.

…Advent marks something momentous:  God’s coming into our midst.  That coming is not just something that happened in the past.  It is a recurring possibility here and now.  And thus Advent is not merely a commemorative event or an anniversary, but a yearly opportunity for us to consider the future, second Advent — the promised coming of God’s kingdom on earth.”

The good news of Christmas is that God’s kingdom has come in Christ!  One day it will be completely established and there will be no more dread or fear.  In the meantime, consider these two questions:

What hopes and fears, anticipation and dread do you experience during the Christmas season?

How might your fears change if you look for God “coming into the midst” of hard stories?

The following is an excerpt from my Christmas letter written in 2004, the year Hurricane Ivan devastated Pensacola and much of the Gulf Coast.

Our world is in a ditch.  I borrow Jackie’s coinage of the word “ditch,” as in, “My hair is in a ditch,” (meaning, I’m having a bad hair day) to attempt description of our post-Ivan land.  Many of you have kindly inquired or wished-well on our hurricane recovery.  I will summarize:  our world is in a ditch; there is glory amidst the ruins.

As one eloquent friend put it, “Our landscape has been rearranged.”  Debris, destruction, devastation, damage are just a few of the ‘d’ words in our vocabulary.   We have learned many other new acronyms and phrases that previously belonged to the lands of  third world countries.  Though our family emerged utterly unscathed (i.e. – no need for roofers from Texas; no need to begin again with the renovation process; no cars caved by pines), we grieve with the many in our community who have lost – homes, wedding albums, nurseries awaiting babies to be born, and even lives.  Personally, our greatest loss has been in the midst of a metaphorical storm that coincided with the physical storm and wreaked havoc on our church which has been home and community for many years.  We grieve, and we wait.

We wait.  Two weeks ago, I sat in a movie theater, where a church in Washington state gathers for worship weekly.  I missed my church, my home, and my family.  The pastor spoke.  He explained, “Advent means coming.”  He went on, “In this season, we celebrate the coming of new life which brings new life.  But before the coming comes the waiting.”  And the tears welled in my eyes, as I watched with these worshipers for something new to rise from the ashes.  We have already seen redemption in the midst of tragedy, but we wait for more.  Still very much struggling to find the words to describe this waiting, I will quote the Jesuit priest, Alfred Delp, who wrote the following words from a Nazi prison shortly before he was hanged:

“The horror of these times would be unendurable unless we kept being cheered and set upright again by the promises that are spoken.  The angels of annunciation, speaking their message of blessing into the midst of anguish, scattering their seed of blessing that will one day spring up amid the night, call us to hope.  These are not yet the loud angels of rejoicing and fulfillment that come out into the open, the angels of Advent.  Quiet, inconspicuous, they come into the rooms and before hearts as they did then.  Quietly they bring God’s questions and proclaim to us the wonders of God, for whom nothing is impossible.”

May we wait well for the God of the impossible to show up again.  And then, may we join with the loud angels of rejoicing at the brand new thing that has come.

By tomorrow, all of my wonderful guests, including my two college-aged kids, will have departed.  Over the course of this week, our numbers have swelled to 12, shrunk slightly to 8, and now are trickling back down to the four of us who reside here at all times.  We will put aside the paper plates and cups we have on hand when our numbers exceed eight, and load the dishwasher easily with the dirty dishes of four.  The dog won’t bark at 1 a.m. because someone is coming in the back door.  The house will be quiet.

And I’m sad.  Even a little angry.  I couldn’t say why, probably just because it’s hard to experience so much sweet fellowship, that little taste of our future new earth life, and go back to the daily normal, which really has its own joy about it when I stop to think about it.  Today I don’t feel like doing much of anything.  I’m not looking very forward to the hub-bub of Christmas at all.

Into this place, the fragile, frustrated mess that is my heart, Jesus is coming.  Indeed, tomorrow is the first Sunday in Advent, the season when we begin counting down the days — not till Christmas, as some think, but till JESUS’ COMING!  Of course, Jesus has already come, as a fully human, fully divine child, amazing story that it is.  He has walked on this earth, feasted with saints and sinners, worked as a carpenter, and said good-bye to his own friends and family.  He has died a humiliating death.  And most importantly, he has been raised to new life.  And it is this story that gives me hope that my heart too can be raised from its deadly path to a new life, even today, of resting in Jesus’ love even as I await the Second Coming, that day when we will never have to say good-bye to loved ones!

Over the next four weeks, I invite you to come here, to remember that first coming of Jesus, the marvel and mystery of it, to focus on this amazing story that is the reason we celebrate, not just at Christmas, but every day of the year!

Eugene Peterson, in his introduction to Ephesians, invites us to “live out the full humanity for which we were created.”  One way we do this is to look at the broken stories around us and believe and bring God’s redemption into them.  What story of restoration will you be a part of today?

“What we know about God and what we do for God have a way of getting broken apart in our lives. The moment the organic unity of belief and behavior is damaged in any way, we are incapable of living out the full humanity for which we were created.

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians joins together what has been torn apart in our sin-wrecked world. He begins with an exuberant exploration of what Christians believe about God, and then, like a surgeon skillfully setting a compound fracture, “sets” this belief in God into our behavior before God so that the bones—belief and behavior—knit together and heal.

Once our attention is called to it, we notice these fractures all over the place. There is hardly a bone in our bodies that has escaped injury, hardly a relationship in city or job, school or church, family or country, that isn’t out of joint or limping in pain. There is much work to be done.

And so Paul goes to work. He ranges widely, from heaven to earth and back again, showing how Jesus, the Messiah, is eternally and tirelessly bringing everything and everyone together. He also shows us that in addition to having this work done in and for us, we are participants in this most urgent work. Now that we know what is going on, that the energy of reconciliation is the dynamo at the heart of the universe, it is imperative that we join in vigorously and perseveringly, convinced that every detail in our lives contributes (or not) to what Paul describes as God’s plan worked out by Christ, “a long-range plan in which everything would be brought together and summed up in him, everything in deepest heaven, everything on planet earth.”

Ephesians

1–2 1 I, Paul, am under God’s plan as an apostle, a special agent of

Christ Jesus, writing to you faithful believers in Ephesus. I greet you with the grace and peace poured into our lives by God our Father and our Master, Jesus Christ.

The God of Glory

3–6 How blessed is God! And what a blessing he is! He’s the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in him. Long before he laid down earth’s foundations, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure he took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of his lavish gift-giving by the hand of his beloved Son.”

It is Thanksgiving, a designated day for feasting and thanking.  I have been sitting here for the last thirty minutes looking for the right story, quote, or words to share with you today.  I’ve read great stories of thanksgivings past — years spent at the beach, years when I couldn’t cook because of recent shoulder surgery, the year my husband and I started dating and he visited me on Thanksgiving after I’d had my wisdom teeth removed.   I’ve pictured and thanked God for scores of friends and family, that great cloud of witnesses who have brought God’s grace into my life.  And I’ve remembered all sorts of stories.  I’ve thought of Psalm 136 with its invitation to give thanks to the Lord and the refrain repeated 26 times (if I counted right:):  ”for his steadfast love endures forever.”

And where I’ve settled is to invite YOU to feast today.  Not just on turkey and trimmings, but on stories.  Ask for and share some stories of how God’s steadfast love endures forever.  Really.  While you’re standing in the kitchen watching mom prepare the sweet potato casserole, ask her, “Do you have any stories of how God has been faithful, consistent, unfailingly loving in your life?”  Or, perhaps you will just ask, “What is the funniest thanksgiving you remember?  Best?  Worst? ”  The possibilities are as varied and multitudinous as the different fare you will feast on today, and the  answers will be just as tasty but richer even than the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake my son’s friend brought to share with us.

Psalm 136

¹ Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.
His love endures forever.

² Give thanks to the God of gods.
His love endures forever.

³ Give thanks to the Lord of lords:
His love endures forever.

⁴ to him who alone does great wonders,
His love endures forever.

⁵ who by his understanding made the heavens,
His love endures forever.

⁶ who spread out the earth upon the waters,
His love endures forever.

⁷ who made the great lights—
His love endures forever.

⁸ the sun to govern the day,
His love endures forever.

⁹ the moon and stars to govern the night;
His love endures forever.

¹⁰ to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt
His love endures forever.

¹¹ and brought Israel out from among them
His love endures forever.

¹² with a mighty hand and outstretched arm;
His love endures forever.

¹³ to him who divided the Red Sea ^[a] asunder
His love endures forever.

¹⁴ and brought Israel through the midst of it,
His love endures forever.

¹⁵ but swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea;
His love endures forever.

¹⁶ to him who led his people through the desert,
His love endures forever.

¹⁷ who struck down great kings,
His love endures forever.

¹⁸ and killed mighty kings—
His love endures forever.

¹⁹ Sihon king of the Amorites
His love endures forever.

²⁰ and Og king of Bashan—
His love endures forever.

²¹ and gave their land as an inheritance,
His love endures forever.

²² an inheritance to his servant Israel;
His love endures forever.

²³ to the One who remembered us in our low estate
His love endures forever.

²⁴ and freed us from our enemies,
His love endures forever.

²⁵ and who gives food to every creature.
His love endures forever.

²⁶ Give thanks to the God of heaven.
His love endures forever.

Yesterday, my daughter came home from college and brought me my belated birthday present.  A photo doesn’t really capture the beauty and fun of it.  Here are the words from the poem by Maya Angelou that is on the painting (which is on the back of a Tom’s shoe box lid!  (Starving college students are really into recycling — for good reason!)

Touched by an Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

Maya Angelou

We are moving into two seasons that offer great opportunities for stories and for naming.  Sadly, in the busy days this season brings, my tendency can be to see chaos more clearly while barely making out the traces of order in the cosmos.  Listening to L’Engle’s words draws me back.  Today I will look for stories. Today I will look to see names and to be named, to mark and to be marked as a “character and carrier in God’s story.”  (Scotty Smith, Restoring Broken Things)

“Stories, no matter how simple, can be vehicles of truth; can be, in fact, icons.  It’s no coincidence that Jesus taught almost entirely by telling stories, simple stories dealing with the stuff of life familiar to the Jews of his day.  Stories are able to help us to become more whole, to become Named.  And Naming is one of the impulses behind all art; to give a name to the cosmos we see despite all the chaos.

God asked Adam to name all the animals, which was asking Adam to help in the creation of their wholeness.  When we name each other, we are sharing in the joy and privilege of incarnation, and all great works of art are icons of Naming.”

“To name is to love.  To be Named is to be loved.  So in a very true sense the great works which help us to be more named also love us and help us to love.”

Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water

If you’ve never read, Madeleine L’Engle’s fine little book, Walking on Water, now is a good time.  It is about artistry and it is about Incarnation.  Listen to this call to live into the impossible:

“I am grateful that I started writing at a very early age, before I realized what a daring thing it is to do, to set down words on paper, to attempt to tell a story, create characters.  We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are, to see through plastic sham to living, breathing reality, and to break down our defenses of self-protection in order to be free to receive and give love.

With God, even a rich man can enter the narrow gate to heaven.  Earthbound as we are, even we can walk on water.

Paul certainly wasn’t qualified to talk about love, Paul who had persecuted so many Christians as ruthlessly as possible; and yet his poem on love in 1 Corinthians has shattering power.  It is not a vague, genial sense of well-being that it offers us, but a particular, painful, birth-giving love.  How to translate that one word which is the key word?  Charity long ago lost its original meaning and has come to mean a cold, dutiful giving.  And love is now almost entirely limited to the narrower forms of sex.  Canon Tallis suggests that perhaps for our day the best translation of love is the name of Jesus, and that will tell us everything about love we need to know.”

Another gem from Dan’s book Sabbath.  How will I play this day?

“In God’s economy, there is no distinction between work and play; his creation is not due to lack, loneliness, or necessity.  It was free and groundless – that is, without reason, other than delight.  As Jurgen Moltmann writes,

Faith answers the unchildish childhood question in a childlike way; and the wisdom of theology ends with the liberty of the children of God.  There is no purposive rationale for the proposition that something exists rather than nothing.  The existence of the world is not necessary…When God creates something that is not god but also not nothing, then this must have its ground not in itself but in God’s good will or pleasure.  Hence the creation is God’s play, a play of his groundless and inscrutable wisdom.  It is the realm in which God displays his glory.

The reason of creation is God — which is no explanation, yet it offers a radical beginning point to consider how we are to live out our Sabbath, the day that most defines how we are to live our lives.

The Sabbath is our play day — not as a break from the routine of work, but as a feast that celebrates the superabundance of God’s creative love to give glory for no other reason than Love himself loves to create and give away glory.  Inherent in this discussion is the distinction between work and play.”

Dan Allender, Sabbath, 81-82

If you, like me, need to remember how very near God is to you right now, try this — print this prayer, take it to a quiet place, kneel, and pray aloud with Bonhoeffer this good news that God has us tightly in His grip:

“God, you started it with me.

You hunted me and would not let me loose;

repeatedly — now here, now there — you have suddenly stepped in m way;

you have captivated me, enticed me, and made my heart pliable and willing;

you have spoken to me of your longing and eternal love,

of your faithfulness and might;

when I sought strength, you strengthened me;

when I sought support, you supported me;

when I sought forgiveness, you forgave me my guilt.

I did not want it, but you overcame my will, my resistance, my heart.

God, you have drawn me irresistibly, and I have given myself to you.

Lord, you have persuaded me, and I have let myself be persuaded.

You have grabbed me as one without a clue –

and now I cannot get away from you anymore.

You are too strong for me; you have won.”