Category Archives: Advent Devotional


It can be difficult.  Waiting for a minute, for the other shoe to drop, for a phone call, for the light to change, for morning to come, for a day.  For the train to pass, test results, lab results, waiting for a week.  For your ship to come in, for weather to change, for snow to melt, for fields to dry, for healing to come, for strength to return, waiting for a month.  For it to rain, for construction to finish, for the mail to come, for fields to ripen, for a healing regime to finish, waiting for nine months.  For nine months, through morning sickness, through body changes, and through emotional changes.  Through nine months of hope, from not seeing but seeing changes, to seeing.

Waiting can be difficult, can feel like darkness, but it is not empty.  It can feel lonely, and maybe that is the most difficult part of waiting….the sense of being alone.  Believing that there is no-one who has felt like this before, that there is no-one who understands the situation, that the decisions that must be made are yours alone to make.    

As we near the middle of Advent, the second week, I think of Mary and wonder what her waiting felt like, was filled with.  Certainly she had an angel’s words to carry her through what could have been anxious moments.  But, it was a person who helped her to wait.  She turned toward her relative, Elizabeth.  A person who was also receiving a gift of new life.  Someone who was willing to receive the help of another as well as give shelter to another.  It makes me wonder if Mary and Elizabeth might have had other things in common, such as feeling rejected.  One for being pregnant without a husband, and one enduring a lifetime of being barren.  Wasn’t it wonderful for both of them to be on the inside of the conversation, instead of outside?  The commonality of companionship where preparation can be shared and enjoyed because you are with another, receiving the help that we need when we believe without seeing.

It is hard not to form expectations while we wait, but there are gifts in waiting even though they might be hard to find.  I think that waiting can deepen our development into more mature beings.  Waiting allows us to figure out why we are reacting the way we are, to continue with those reactions, or to make adjustments.  It may also give us a gift of focus.  Allowing us to see what is truly important to us and maybe helping us to even uncover our deepest desires so we can change course.  

So what do we do while we wait?  Might we not create a new Advent practice to more fully understand Mary’s experience of waiting?  Could there possibly be an invitation to be intentional?  Sitting at a long red light, being alert to those who wait with us?  To wonder about their lives and what they are leaving or going to?  To make a type of practice that we do with our children when we sit at the red light?  Can we discover ways to be mindful, to breathe deeply, to exhale fully as we wait?  Maybe we notice and turn toward those who we are with, or who are with us and appreciate them more fully.  Could we find ways to be more alert for possible encounters with a loving mystery?  Is there a way to welcome the waiting?

“I wait for the Lord,
My soul waits,
And in his word I hope;
My soul waits for the Lord
More than those who watch for the morning
More than those who watch for the morning.
Psalm 130:5-6

I Wonder as I Wander– Week 1 Advent Devotional

Why is Christmas so celebrated? It is cherished by so many, myself included. What I have found though is that the reason can be found in what it isn’t. It isn’t the beautiful albeit inaccurate songs, it isn’t the gift giving, it isn’t the decorations, it isn’t the huge meals, it isn’t the people bickering over whether to say ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Happy Holidays,’ it isn’t the loneliness we all try to avoid, it isn’t the loss of loved ones we remember, it isn’t even the inevitable family arguments.

All of those things are integral to some and unavoidable to others, some are pleasant while others are certainly not. But it is so very important to acknowledge that all of those things are present in this season. So how does that help me define my reasons? Well because it is none of those things and all of them. There is a shift… a turning that occurs in me every season and having identified this ‘turning’ has put so much into perspective.

It started in the shower actually. I was trying to figure out what we could do for a program at church when the best Christmas hymn ever written began to play on my streaming service. It was written by Noel Stookey (Peter, Paul and Mary), Christmas Dinner. Even if you know the song, please, I urge you to go listen to it again. I grew up loving this song and the artist that sings in, but this time it was brand new. Did you catch what I missed?

There is a turning! Actually, there are several! This child turned to windows that were glowing with the traditional Christmas scenes, but then this child turned to a window that was only lit with a bare candle. Not a candle set on a windowsill, but a candle on table that lit the tears of a grandmother there. Then the old woman turned to the boy.

The remainder of the song is spent examining their shared celebration and is absolutely lovely. They share out of their lack and together have in full. And that, that right there, in a nutshell is what draws me to the Advent season. When people are willing to turn towards one another then take it one step further to come close, there is the spark of the sacred in that space that is shared.

I think we really are just imitating Christ, because whenever and for whatever reason God turned and looked at us, they also took the step to come closer. Brene Brown, in her uncomfortably poignant understanding wrote, in Atlas of the Heart, “When we are reckless with other people’s stories, we diminish our own humanity.” When Christ came, he wasn’t reckless with our stories, Scripture proves that to us over and over again. No, Christ valued our stories, he was reckless with his own.

We have become so accustomed to sarcasm and the misperception of perfection that sincerity has become rare and vulnerability just as untrustworthy. But we want to see and we want to be seen, why else would social media platforms be so relevant?? I wonder if we have forgotten what it feels like to actually be seen and how it changes us to see others. While riding in the car with my sons, we were listening to The BFG, by Roald Dahl, and a scene that illustrates this was given.

“Somone is bound to see us,” Sophie said.
‘Never is they seeing me,’ the BFG said confidently. ‘You is forgetting that I is doing this sort of thing for years and years and years. No human bean is ever catching even the smallest wink of me.’
‘I did,’ Sophie whispered.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Yes. But you was the very first.’

The BFG by Roald Dahl

Our world is divided by politics… by lines on a map… by differences of opinions… by lack of patience… by the unwillingness to listen and believe other people’s stories. These diversions cause us to move away from one another, to discredit them, to a certain degree ‘cancel’ them. So what we are left with are growing schisms and chasms between us. Do we really want to live this way?

Now, I am not asking you switch football teams or political parties or religions, although goodness knows maybe that is the answer. (From what I understand, the Packers could use some help these days.) I am not even asking you to believe anything new. I am simply hoping you will take a moment or two each day and turn to the person next to you and see them. Think of that small distance between the two of you as the place where the Holy resides. May we lean into that place so that we can find healing for ourselves and, when able, for them too. When you are checking out at the grocery store. Tucking your kiddo into bed. Taking your furry child for a walk. Giving a gift. Receiving a gift. Waving to a neighbor. Passing a person with a different political bumper sticker on their vehicle. Sharing a hug. The opportunities are readily available.

This Advent season, may you receive the peace of Christ and may you turn to those around you to extend that same sacrament.