I promise I won’t spend this entire post complaining about the heat, but I do feel that some of you who read this blog read it to know what is happening in our lives and right now a lot of what is happening is heat. That cool air for which I was so thankful last week has moved on and been replaced by a heat index over 100. Again. To say that I am jealous of the many of you who are watching snowflakes fall gently outside your windows today is an understatement. And just to be clear, I lived through two winters on the plains of Alberta so I do know what winter really is and, yes, I would actually prefer the cold to the heat right now. Somehow sweating through my shirt while hanging Christmas lights at 8.30 in the evening just doesn’t seem right. I tried to make it more enjoyable with ice cold, home made egg nog, but… well, it just didn’t do it for me.
Ok, that’s all I will say about that. Promise.
Since the advent season began last Sunday I have been trying to consciously slow down my heart and thoughts to dwell on the incarnation of Jesus. It is an event so beautiful and yet impossible for me to grasp in its true significance. I keep thinking of the song in Phillipians 2 telling of Christ willingly emptying himself of his glory and coming to earth in the form of a little child, a baby. All I can do is meditate on it, I have not seized any new depth of understanding. While I long for a clearer knowledge, I also am satisfied to dwell on this truth.
Every year I am struck anew by the passages in the Old Testament that tell of the coming Messiah. Followed by the centuries-long silence of a God to his people, then, miraculously, suddenly, joyfully, the promise appears. Anna and Simeon have been waiting their entire lives as so many had done before them, waiting for his appearance and they see it. They know him even as a week old baby, wrinkled up and helpless. I can feel the anticipation building along with the doubt and fear that must have been in the back of people’s minds as they waited and watched for the fullness of time. They must have sat in the quiet moments and asked themselves, “Will I see it? How long will you tarry, oh God?”
I have many quiet moments these days which is something new for me at this point in the season and for which I am incredibly thankful. I sit and dwell on the same questions that somehow become my own as I move into the anticipation of Christmas day. Emmanuel. The name whispers across my mind; Emmanuel, God with us, how can this be? But how I want to know him and see the day when the tears are wiped away and joy is made full.
What are you dwelling on in your quiet moments? Maybe sit down with a cup of tea (hot or iced, depending on where you live…) and share your thoughts.