The word which is floating around in my mind right now is possibility. There is so much to that word and this world we find ourselves in. So much possibility in deepening family relationships, in finding people to journey through faith with, in exploring this beautiful world, in helping our boys adjust to change and finding new friends to hang out with.
Possibility is a word which helps the perfectionist part of my brain, there is nothing perfectionist about it, it’s not a word about anything definite or concrete, it allows for failure, for things not to work out and yet it calls me into hope and a way of being which seems to let the light in on the overwhelming days when nothing seems right. It seems to be word that can open me up when I shut down in fear or overwhelm.
It’s the first Sunday of Advent tomorrow and this morning was the first morning I have felt that maybe the month isn’t August and we aren’t just over for the holidays. We are here, about to hit one of my favourite times of the year. This word ‘possibility’ might just spill me over into the hope of Advent, the call to wait within that darkness tinged with light.
This northern land is particularly dark each morning, sunrise is almost an hour later than the southern places we’ve come from. Waiting for the sky to lighten enough for me to head out on my morning walk takes patience and hope. Waiting for the dawn leads me to many places.
Waiting for the dawn requires some belief in possibility.
Waiting for the dawn changes my posture, my preparations, my desires and my actions.
Waiting for the dawn enables me to act in hope.
Waiting for the dawn wraps me in a bigger reality, a deeper context which enables me to journey through these huge waves of transition, grief, alienation, fears for my boys and more.
Waiting for the dawn enables me to hold my places of desolation because there is consolation there too. The two are held in tension, not cancelling each other out but creating a beautiful messy wonderland to explore.
As I travel into advent I want to taste the possibilities all around me in this new world. As I look for the dawn, I am reminded of the possibility of babies in wombs who would change the world. As I am reminded of the Immanuel, the God who wants to be close to us, I am in awe again at the One who came to be with us in all the mess and brokenness, the One who welcomes all, invites all and who comes with a bigger deeper love and light for us all to find hope in.
I imagine I’ll be advent blogging again this year, I’m not sure I know how not to. But I think it might be on themes of possibility. This word which is grounding me, holding me in the tension of all my desolations and consolations. This word which is making me smile.
Hello to advent.
Hello to waiting for the dawn.
Hello to possibility.