The coronavirus has disrupted much of life this year, and as I sat and surveyed my December calendar recently, I realized that for the first time in a long time, we are going to have a quiet Advent.
To me, Advent should be a quiet season. It's a season of anticipation. Of longing. Of waiting. A season of preparation, yes, but also of simple, unrushed pleasures.
All too often in my own life, Advent is basically the pre-game to Christmas. That's not because I'm the type of person who does that; it's because our culture is so full. Piano recital. Violin recital. Last year Annie was in "The Nutcracker"--a huge commitment, especially because she was double cast! Christmas parties here and there. Performances to attend. The church Christmas play (which my husband writes and directs every year). And the list goes on.....
This year there's none of that. And instead, I am finding that quiet space that I long for every year.
Each morning, I'm reading from this Advent book, as well as my other devotionals and the Bible.
At supper, we'll do a brief Advent candle lighting and Scripture reading, using a booklet published by my best friend's church. After we eat, I'm reading aloud A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.
Each night during Advent, our family will gather in front of the tree for readings: a Christmas picture book (I love my collection of Christmas picture books!), our simple Advent book that we read every year, and this Advent devotional.
Once the children are in bed, I'll be reading a cozy book of fiction set at Christmas.
On Fridays, we'll bake our Christmas treats (and freeze them!).
On Sundays, we'll attend church.
And other than wrapping some gifts, that's pretty much it.
The forced slowness already feels like a strange gift to me, a silver lining in the cloud. I know that my Advents in the coming years of the next decade of life will likely not always be this peaceful. My children do play instruments. Annie is quite devoted to ballet. We love seeing friends and family during the season. I adore the symphony, the ballet, and the choral concerts. Lord willing, those things will be back next year. But I'm genuinely appreciating this pause, this quiet Advent that already feels so restorative for me, so sweet and holy.
And instead of feeling like I should "fill up" the time with things (activities! crafts! a Jesse tree! a checklist!), I'm perfectly content to scaffold our days with good books and conversations about Christ, and bake our favorite Christmas cookies and cakes and candies, and sit by the lit tree enjoying my little family.
"Sing for joy, you heavens, for the Lord has done this;
should aloud, you earth beneath.
Burst into song, you mountains,
you forests and all your trees,
for the Lord has redeemed Jacob,
he displays his glory in Israel."
-from Isaiah 44
No comments:
Post a Comment