A blessing for weeks when we’re waiting

It’s Advent. For most Christian traditions, it’s the beginning of our liturgical year, marked by the expectant waiting and preparation for Christmas. Christ-mas. Christ’s coming.

We are a people in waiting, aren’t we? Waiting for a cure. Waiting for a vaccine. Waiting for the test results. Waiting for that phone call. Waiting for an opportunity. Waiting for a second chance. Waiting for that apology. Waiting for the big break. We spend so much of our time holding our breath, teetering on the edge of whatever is coming next. And it’s exhausting.

Because when we’re in that great waiting room, we live by the “what if”s. What if it doesn’t work out the way we’re hoping it does? What if we don’t get what we want? What if we’re disappointed? What if we come up empty-handed? We spend so much time and emotional energy, take up so much brain space occupying the possibility of that which hasn’t happened and friends, let me tell you, it is draining our very souls.

So this week, what if we imagine a new what if? What if we dare to believe that this here, this moment, this real, actual life that’s happening in this right-now is what we have been waiting for all along, even if we didn’t know it? What if we look around at our lives, take stock of everything, and declare with joy that this is good?

May you know the blessing this week of seeing the beauty in the ordinary moments. May your meals nourish more than just your stomach; may you feel fed in your soul as you give thanks for always enough. May you have warm company and warm memories to carry you through the cold of the approaching winter. May you feel strengthened by those who love you. May you give grace and gentleness to yourself as we hunker back down for another quarantine. May you smile whenever you look in the mirror. May you laugh loud, and laugh often, laugh so hard your sides hurt and your cheeks feel tight from smiling. May you get enough sleep, and may you remember to take your medicine, and may your feet be warm and cozy while the rain and snow falls outside.

There is goodness here, I promise you. You may have to squint to see it, but it exists. You have a beautiful story inside of you, dear one, and with every waking moment, another page is being turned. You are the one you’ve been waiting for. What if this week you practice believing it?

You are loved this week, friends. This week, and every week.