“In a world that seems not only to be changing, but even to be dissolving, there are some tens of millions of us who want Christmas to be the same…with the same old greeting “Merry Christmas” and no other.
We long for the abiding love among men of good will which the season brings…
believeing in this ancient miracle of Christmas with its softening, sweetening influences to tug at our heart strings once again. We want to hold on to the old customs and traditions because they strengthen our family ties,
bind us to our friends,
make us one with all mankind
for whom the Child was born, and bring us back again to the God Who gave His only begotten Son, that “whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
So we will not “spend” Christmas…
nor “observe’ Christmas.
We will “keep” Christmas – keep it as it is…
in all the loveliness of its ancient traditions.
May we keep it in our hearts,
that we may be kept in its hope.”
from a sermon by Peter Marshall “Let’s Keep Christmas”
One of the things we love about Advent and Christmas is doing things the same way we have done them for many years. There may be minor changes and adjustments, but there is a sweet remembering in the things we do each year. Even more, a balm for rough times and a surge of hope as we repeat the journey of the heart. I found this entry in a journal i kept 6 years ago. It is dated December 17, 2007, but it could have been words I wrote today. These thoughts were in my mind then, and now again.
“…the most important things that occur during my day usually aren’t on the to-do list. This Monday morning I am reflecting that fact as I finish my Old Testament reading and pray. My heart is preparing – more important than the myriad things that will get done as the day unfolds: laundry, house cleaning, finishing gifts, mailing cards, baking – each becomes an expression of my heart’s preparation. I am so full of awe and wonder and gratitude for the great gift of Christ, the gift of God himself. My home is full of Christmas music, Christmas color, Christmas light. Christmas Light.”
Advent is a season of anticipation, of expecting, of waiting for birth. My first response to the noun expectancy points to waiting in anticipation of important creation and change. I am reminded of my pregnancies – the anxious wondering of confirmation followed by wonder, amazement, and yearning for birth, then holding my sons to my heart.
Then, my grandchildren have been welcomed with joy in planning, preparing, making room! For each of our granddaughters, I have begun writing a letter as soon as I heard the announcement of their conception. I write that letter during our time waiting for them and give it to their parents when they are born to be kept until they are ready to keep it themselves. I am journaling right now to the girl child who will come into our arms in the Spring. She is already in my heart.
Advent is like that journal for me – an expression of unconditional love and longing, a looking forward to the promise of a coming that will forever change our lives.
The Advent calendar we used when our sons were little came with a book. My sons took turns opening the windows of a cardboard Bethlehem where they would find a symbol. That picture or symbol would then be found on a page in their book where a short story explained it. I will always remember their fingers pulling the windows open to discover what was uncovered. The very first window opened to a dark, menacing cloud, sign of the troubled times for the people of Judah long ago.
Like those who longed for help and hope groaned under the darkness of oppression and fear, we come as Advent begins each year with our dark clouds of doubt and anxiety as we again seek hope and light. I love the poetry of Ann Weems. She wrote from a place of loss and vulnerability, with transparency and honesty sharing both her pain and her faith.
Yesterday’s Pain
I am indebted to my son, Jeremy Parker, for receiving this image. Thank you for looking up.
” Each one of us somewhere, somehow, has known, if only for a moment or so, something of what it is to feel the shattering love of God, and once that has happened, we can never rest easy again for trying somehow to set that love forth not only in words, myriads of words, but in our lives themselves…we have scarcely any choice but to go on trying no matter what, and there is much that is beautiful and brave and true about it. Yet we must remember this other word too: “Unless you turn and become like children …. “-Originally published in The Magnificent Defeat by Frederic Buechner
We are hours away from the beginning of Advent. My practice this year will be to record my journey here. Jeremy’s picture helps me see new wonder and light looking not just through this piece of stained glass at my kitchen window, but following as it points upward to the light, helping me turn and become like a child in the expectant waiting of Advent.
don’t let love lose
because of tripping and stumbling
don’t let light die
though it may flicker
as petals shatter
and thorns bring blood,
don’t let the rose die from drought
let it bud again with fragrant bloom
let healing happen
I choose you again
let love win
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, the truth;
Where there is doubt, the faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled, as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life
~ attributed to St. Francis of Assisi
“Courage is found in unlikely places.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien
Stones and Feathers 