Advent is a time of preparation for the coming of our Lord. Heavy-hitters from our Advent reading cycle—Mark, Isaiah, Peter, and Paul—give clear directives to sober up and take seriously the preparation process (Mark 13:33-37, Isaiah 40:3, 2 Peter 3:8-14, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24). While these Advent exhortations are stern, they also provide assurance of why, in the end, everything will be worth it.
As the exhortation in sports goes, when approaching the final repetitions in training, “last one best one!” Why not approach this Advent session the way the founders of our faith suggest—fired up and in the zone?
1. Section Heading
One’s home, heart, and vineyard (i.e., the place that God has given you and assigned you to work) are the concrete locations to which the Advent exhortations are aimed. As I reflected this year on the spiritual, emotional, and physical necessities of preparing oneself in Advent, I was reminded of an Advent from some years back. It was a year when the tree was “trimmed” in a way that I never expected but, in the end, appreciated.
My husband and I usually have a dialogue about how big a tree will “fit” in our living room. Inevitably, I am in favor of the larger trees on the lot and he of the smaller. My husband insists we do not have enough clearance—and provides commentary on the rising costs of trees and memories of the days when we bought our tree at Home Depot for $25 (true story!). I then reference what seems like a valid memory—that we surely had the nine-foot tree last year. It is a fun and joyful banter.One’s home, heart, and vineyard (i.e., the place that God has given you and assigned you to work) are the concrete locations to which the Advent exhortations are aimed. As I reflected this year on the spiritual, emotional, and physical necessities of preparing oneself in Advent, I was reminded of an Advent from some years back. It was a year when the tree was “trimmed” in a way that I never expected but, in the end, appreciated.
My husband and I usually have a dialogue about how big a tree will “fit” in our living room. Inevitably, I am in favor of the larger trees on the lot and he of the smaller. My husband insists we do not have enough clearance—and provides commentary on the rising costs of trees and memories of the days when we bought our tree at Home Depot for $25 (true story!). I then reference what seems like a valid memory—that we surely had the nine-foot tree last year. It is a fun and joyful banter.
2. Section Heading
Our now-six-foot tree was looking more and more to me like Charlie Brown’s sad Christmas tree than the majestic noble fir I’d originally envisioned. Besides the change in appearance, there was the practical matter of the decorations—many of which were heirlooms from my deceased grandmother’s collection—which would no longer fit, as a third of the tree’s branches were removed.
It was a definitive moment; I had the choice of trimming things down and being joyful or staying the course I found myself on—which would be the Polar Express heading straight toward disappointment, stress, and letdown.
I chose the former. I realized that it was a good opportunity to select the ornaments that I treasured most and let the others go. Ornaments had accumulated over 25 years of family life, driving the need for bigger and bigger trees to fit them all. I was unnecessarily creating a tree that could host every good memory I had with my grandmother, whom I loved dearly, and the rest of my family. I could (and should) carry those memories in my heart. I had to make space there, not on the tree.
