Advent waiting

It's strange this Advent

not to be running full tilt

to make sure that everything's ready:

The candles, the poinsettias, the bulletins, the powerpoints,

the trees and the nativity scenes,

the baubles and the stars for the blue Christmas service,

the readers, the mince pies and mulled wine,

the prayers, the poems, not forgetting the midweek reflections.

(and that's just the church stuff)

It's strange.

And I'm not sure I like it much.

But I wait.

Empty handed.

Vulnerable.

Tearful.

Bereft.

Wondering why God calls me to this.

But assured that God does.

I have hope in this season of Advent.

Hope for the world - 

for the glimmer of light in all the darkness that abounds.

Hope for the church - 

for renewal that incites love.

And hope for peace

that reaches deep within in the waiting

massaging a bruised and tired spirit

healing a wound that refuses to close

revealing a purpose as yet not fully grasped.

It's strange this Advent,

And so, I wait...