Advent- We Wait

I was reminded today that, for me,  December is not a month of productivity. Yes, I shopped a bit for my family, I've set out a handful of nativities, I may write a year end letter.  But the days are short, my mood pensive, my fireplace and a book beckon me. And for the first time, I can embrace my solitude and aloneness at Christmas. I'm not sad, just aware that for me- this is a season of resting, restoring, relaxing.  Yes, I'm being totally counter-culture this year.

And I'm not writing. It bugs me but recently what I've written is flat, lifeless, dull. I have blogs half-done that give an account of my life activities but don't feel like they offer any life. So I've stuck them in my virtual desk drawer. Waiting.

Today I was also reminded that writing is a discipline, an exercise in diligence. I just needed a jump start.

I don't love Christmas. There- I've said it. Oh, I loved it when the kids were little and didn't care what was in the cardboard box. When their eyes sparkled with the lights of the tree. When their eyes reflected the flicker of a candle light service and their soft faces filled with wonder.   What I do love now is this picture of my grandson leaning into his first Christmas tree. 

But Christmas can get lost in the shopping, the busy and in my quest for perfection. So I've decided I will love Advent- the coming, the anticipation, the waiting.  The best part of shopping is going into stores and hearing snippets of carols glorifying God. And occasionally, the familiar pieces of the Hallelujah chorus. For I will always love Handel's Messiah.



When we lived in Italy, I sang in a community choir and we did selections from the Messiah.  It was one of those community choirs that accepts anyone and I was definitely an "anyone". People spoke of being on pitch, breathing between notes, watching the count, the pause, the... whatever. I just sang. And since I don't read music, I memorized my parts by listening to a cassette tape-this was the early '90's.  I would play, sing, rewind; play, sing, rewind. Even my kids could sing Handel by the night of the concert.

It was glorious. Making beautiful music. Being one with the choir.  And my daughter who brought me back to earth when she conspiratorially whispered to her teacher, "When they sing really high, my mother just has her mouth open. She can't sing then."  Ah, the honesty of a six year old.  It's a great family story and for years, my kids would break into a rich, theatrical "Comfort ye, my people...." at the first familiar bars of Handel that we played year after year.

Today I found a wonderful Advent tool. And it will be my jump start for writing. This long story introduces  Rev. Timothy Smith and his Advent devotional, featuring Handel's Messiah. I'm behind a day so we can catch up together. I hope you enjoy.

http://www.waterfromrock.org/2012/12/02/sunday-december-2-the-first-sunday-of-advent/


Join me as we wait and ponder and perhaps hear the Voice of our Father in Handel's wonderful music.

The darknes surrounds me.... I wait. 

"The somber opening chords of the Overture echo the darkest days of the prophet Isaiah. Handel writes the Overture in the minor key which Western ears hear as darkness, suffering, and dissonance; there are things that need to be resolved. God’s people have forsaken God and are in bondage and misery. We hear rising sequences of notes striving to break free, but falling back again. The minor key creates the sense of no hope.

.... Amidst the darkness and dissonance we are being summoned to make ourselves ready. The King of Kings will soon be appearing."