Advent - hope and grief

The season of Advent has started…. hard to believe we are already two days into advent. I was hoping to write a wonderful insightful blog post about the theme HOPE, the beauty and gifted time we are given during advent. While one day I might do this….. today I arise with the sun to the sound of the birds outside my window talking. Talking in a language I am not familiar with, yet still brings me comfort, or are they singing, singing a song that I have forgotten, a song that is awaiting my heart to respond too.
You see, there is a little bird nest outside the front of the house, cute little birds awaiting their parents return of worms each morning, afternoon and evening. This cycle of life these birds are going through, is reflected within me. 

This season of Christmas, Advent is downright hard! On Sunday the words - I am the potter you are the clay - has a beauty about the words that linger in the air, yet when one really reflects on them the depth, the meaning, the rebirthing they give it goes against human instinct. It has an invitation to enter into this time with a sense of waiting…. waiting can hurt. It can be confusing. 

We wait for so many different things in life, from simple daily task like waiting for the jug to boil, the weeds to grow, flowers to blossom, parents to bring the worms, for a love that understands us in the deepest part of us. Waiting can feel empty and desperately lonely. 

And waiting can feel small. 

It can feel worthless. 

Being the one who is always waiting can defeat you from the insides. 

We are quick to dismiss waiting as a waste of time. We want to be DOING. 

The season of waiting….. Here’s the thing - we are not actually alone in our waiting. Waiting is as intrinsic to the human condition as our DNA. The whole world and God’s own Holy Spirit are waiting with us! I feel this is forgotten so often, even for myself I forget this as just one small part of the body of the church I am not alone, we are together on this journey of advent. We are waiting with all the angels and saints, all the people within the church building and outside, united together in our waiting.... 

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit 

is right alongside helping us along. (Romans 8:22-28)

Advent is the season of active waiting. 

Advent sets our eyes on the Saviour who has promised an end to waiting, to death, to sorrow. 

Advent waits for the arrival of the answer to all our unasked questions of hope and doubt and despair. It is the promise - there will be an answer, and the answer is already there!!

His name is Jesus. 

I have to admit though, even writing this with a tone of joyful expectation that one can not escape during advent. I’m aware of the grief that comes with advent, well in my life I feel the tone of grief. Just like those birds outside our front door I can see my life in what is taking form. I wait to be feed, to be apart of that family unit with a reliance on members then I grow, grow to independence and establishing my our nest, my own identity surrounding myself with community with similar identity and been given that gift of feeding - helping others. 

There is a natural cycle that is reflected in so many aspects of life present here. While it only takes one shift of reluctance from one part of this cycle to have dramatic implications, it is here that there is an offer to grow, offer to sit in waiting to address this shift - grief. 

There are opportunities to run from grief. I can try to fill that Jesus shaped hole with buying presents or planning a party. A party to have something to look forward to and even call the party planning stress “minimal” compared to the great loss my heart is bellowing out. 

But the truth is, all of these things that are so easily caught up with during advent, will never satisfy the grief, the loss, the ache, the losing to quench what I most desire. 

How do I find joy amidst the grief in this season? Do I run from it with the comforts that society offer their their tinsel and flashing lights, or do I allow myself to sink into the pain, so that I might see Immanuel, Christ with us?

There is a deep sense of joy, when I wait patiently, even when I cannot feel the breath of the Spirit, the touch of my Jesus, the approval of my Father, because I cling to his promise. I cling to the angel’s words, “Do not be afraid” 

Just as light broke into darkness at the beginning of time with words spoken, so the Light broke into the Darkness that one still night decades ago. And again, the Light, who is Jesus, will once again break through the darkness once and for all, and we will be restored to him. 

Our joy will never fully be complete in this here, however, in our present longing, we cling to the hope that it will be complete one day. On that day He will bestow on us a ‘crown of beauty, instead of ashes and the oil of joy instead of mourning’