Now that it’s halfway through January, my blog reader is finally starting to slow down with all the new year’s resolutions and goals and various words people have chosen as their theme of 2015.
And I’m over here, still reflecting on advent.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the newness of January, and I’ve done my own share of goal setting and re-organizing for the new year. It’s just that I am still thinking about the end of 2014. Maybe it’s the fact that Luke still asks if we can celebrate advent every day, or just the general speed of life these days. Either way, I’m still processing.
I love the season of advent. I thrive on anticipation, always have. So advent is just right for my personality.
This year, advent didn’t go exactly how I’d hoped. A nasty (and long-lasting) stomach bug made its way through 3/4 of our family, spread out over three weeks. I received more etsy business than I’d really prepared for, which was awesome, but made for a busy month. Gracie has been teething/growth spurting/whatever-ing that has caused some sleep disruption. And Luke is three and a half (enough said).
Last year, advent was such a sweet time. I was in my last trimester of pregnancy, which brought with it lovely anticipation and a killer nesting instinct. I was so well prepared going into advent that I had plenty of time to enjoy the season awaiting the celebration of Christ’s birth.
This year? Not so much. Many times Ian and I made the dramatic comment, “I feel like our lives are out of control.” Because our home has been a bit chaotic. And with the sicknesses, we had to hunker down and stay home more than usual. Which means more mess. And despite my best efforts at creating big-movement opportunities (pillow jumping, anyone?), it means excess energy from our boy. Which results in frenzied activities like decorating and re-decorating the tree.
Or filling the pack-n-play up with random toys in the time it took me to slice our pizza. Not make it, just slice it. (And yes, the pack-n-play emerged as a desperate attempt to corral the baby while I took a shower).
Our chalkboard was definitely not pinterest-worthy by any means. I was usually a couple days late switching the week’s theme, it was written in a hurry, and usually covered in scribbles by the end of the day.
We went through a family advent devotional that includes a Jesse tree with an ornament for each day. I had high hopes to create felt ornaments for Luke to unwrap every day and stick on his felt tree. I got through day 5.
I thrive in a neat and orderly environment. I don’t like to relax until everything is cleaned up. And yet, for this season of life, there is so much grace. So much.
Instead of waiting until I had everything nice and neat and prepared before celebrating advent, I was able to jump in and embrace what was there before me. Mugs of coffee gone cold long before I even got my first sip, bows and wrapping paper strewn about, stopping Gracie from her valiant attempts to reach the Christmas lights, reminding Luke for the millionth time to please be gentle with the ornaments – God found my heart in the midst of those chaotic moments and allowed me to anticipate his joy despite my own idea of what waiting and anticipation might look like.
Did it feel as magical as last year? No. But it was full and rich and beautiful in its own messy way. And Jesus’ birth? Not exactly a neat and orderly event either. I’m sure Mary had different ideas about where she wanted to bring him into the world, but once she held him in her arms, I doubt it mattered. And I felt a bit like that this year. Sure, the constant mess might have overwhelmed me, but if I looked up and saw the two little cuties I’ve been blessed with – a boy who memorized our scripture-based advent calendar and a baby girl so curious about everything around her – then my heart felt filled and grounded.