Advent Hope

 (And yes, I do realize that we're well past the Hope Sunday, but it takes me this long to have time and focus to put any kind of thoughts down!)

Hope.

The first candle.  Hope is a focus of the entire season as as wait in expectation.  For what?  The Coming.  Arrival.  Not for early Christmas morning with wide-eyed children, overflowing stockings and family feasts, but for a simple baby born humbly.

Too often I find myself asking (and I'm sure you have, too!), "What do you want for Christmas?"  But I wonder if that's an appropriate question to ask.  Because to that question, my answer is "stuff".  A book.  Boots.  A colander.  A laptop.  Stuff that is nice, and some of which I may even "need", but when giving and receiving takes so much of my time and thoughts over the season, it slowly pushes out my reflection, hope and awe of what this season is REALLY about.  As another blog I read recently reflected, I wonder if a better question is, "What do you HOPE for Christmas?"  I'll give a much different answer: to experience the body of Christ consistently being his hands and feet, for the ability to unswervingly trust and not worry, for relationships to deepen, to forgive and love more deeply, for all people know what it means to worship authentically.  Intangibles.  The kinds of things that require what the Baby had to offer.

And though the baby himself was a miracle of God among us, that was just the beginning of the story.  Because of the rest of his story, there is hope for us; for today and for tomorrow.  There is hope for those of us who are overwhelmed and weary (where I am too often when I let my gaze shift to earthly things). There is hope for those of us who are suffering (can my hope and expectation in God's faithfulness ease any of that burden for others?).  There is hope for those of us who have no hope.  I've been challenged to pray for those around me to experience more hope in their lives - not just those present here and now, but even for the Czech people as I think about heading there.

 Lord, direct my full focus to the hope you offer, so that my peace and joy this season is complete in You.

To us a child of hope is born.

To us a Son is given.

reflection on journey

My tendency is to view life as a path to this great final destination where I will joyfully serve God and be fulfilled in all I do.  In my mind it sounds like a good goal.  But when the path is foggy and sometimes seemingly utterly obscured in front of me, I despair of ever arriving.  And then I realize that perhaps there's not a final destination.  Maybe I will never "settle" into something that fulfills me completely for the rest of my life.  Disappointing?  Maybe. Only when I'm looking for a destination.  But if my ultimate fulfillment is in Jesus and my relationship with him, what "destination" really matters?  If he is all love and goodness, then he knows exactly what is best for me.  He wants me to continue to mature. Won't happen in my comfortable destination resort.  I have to keep moving, to be receptive to the struggles along with the joys in order to grow.

I appreciate the quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Life is a journey, not a destination."  I want to be reminded of that often: when I'm worrying about the future, when I lose perspective of what matters, when I neglect to live in the moment, when I'm not paying attention to where God is nudging me because I've become distracted...

I want to enjoy the journey.  To take pleasure in the simple graces of each day.  To understand, or at least be sensitive to, what I can learn from the moments.  To relish the adventure along with the stillness, the exciting along with the dreary.  To maintain hope not only for some future event, but for what God is doing in me now.  Here.  Today.  I don't do it well, but by God's grace I will make positive progress.

And so I journey...