advent

Each December I have the same thought...

Always the same.

"This year."

"This year will be different."

It will not be all about the stuff and busyness.

There will be a slowing.

There will be time made for advent - the expectant waiting and preparation for Christmas.

TIME for the waiting.

TIME for the wanting.

TIME for the preparing.

Our hearts - waiting, wanting, preparing...  for the celebration of Christ-coming.

This is how it looked in my minds eye - twinkling Christmas tree, and smiling peace-filled children, hands working together on that day's family fun activity, hearts taking in the advent scriptures, the Christ of Christmas anticipated like no other year...

Peeking in my window, it's possible you might miss the reality because the state of my house can lie in your face about the state of the hearts within...

But I

Am living this reality:

Children are beyond... messy, grumpy, without self-control, filled with selfishness

I even told one maybe she should move out if life is so hard here as the latest in her "grump of the year" efforts snapped that last thread that was holding... they are not the only ones "beyond"

Our advent tree has six ornaments... it's December 17th...

The Christmas tree - it's the only thing same as in the movie, twinkling pretty... moreso when the house stills for the night

and me... I'm a whole lotta stress-filled ugly, but the presents are bought, wrapped, cards are sent, house is decorated, baking in the freezer... kids had beautiful Christmas outfits and hair done for singing in church on Sunday, and the endless school forms and holiday specialness supplies are not left unattended...

on the outside I'm ready

perhaps ready for the outside of Christmas? ready to celebrate with presents and good music, family, friends, and food...



But as for my heart... our hearts??

December marches on, filled with all the same I say every year will be different

Then, with all the gentleness and grace...

Invading my guilt-laden heart...

HE opens my eyes to see...

in the fits and fights of my children that have me struggling for sanity most days

the utter devastation of Sandy Hook

the tough phone call from someone close struggling in a valley last night

in the silent cries I hear from people dear to me "living in this world without God and without hope"

and those preschool friends of my youngest who sing loud "Away in a Manger" without a clue that the baby whose sweet head they sing of could rock their worlds... and will they ever know?

and in the homeless gentleman outside my grocery store whose blank stare I thought warm food might light...

How desperately...
and my eyes well at the thought...

desperately

this world neededs a Savior

I need a Savior



And He came, bloody, bruised, laid in a hay-filled, wooden cow-dish, a helpless baby...

And I think maybe He entered the world that way... his first earthly home being the lowliest of the low...

so that.......

                              so that........

I could humbly ask Him to take up residence in my heart

For my heart

It is bloody and bruised

It couldn't be less fit for a King...

And sin, selfishness, and idolatry, hidden in the depths of it, make it most ugly

and I could weep at the thought of asking a King to make His home there

but I did

and He did

and my heart, it doesn't look messed up ugly with Him there... not to the ONE who sees to the deepest parts of it

because to El Roi, the God who sees me, it is Jesus He sees when He looks there

I realize...
again...
that MY pretty, put-together, movie-esque romantic visions for the preparation of our hearts these 24 days in December is not HIS way...

For how better for me to recognize the value of that first ever Christmas gift...
Or come to worship the God who left His throne in heaven and came to earth as a baby...
For my heart, our hearts...
                                              to     be     ready?

Than to see with new eyes...

The deep dark pit from which I needed Him to save me
and the world around whose eyes need an unveiling... whose hearts beg for hope

for true celebration happens when you truly see the reason for your celebration... what you have been saved from... what you have been saved to, what might have been, but isn't...

Praise.
I live with hope.

And I wait, want, watch, prepare...
                                                                                 for the day He comes again...

not as a helpless babe,
but in ALL His glory

The KING OF KINGS.
my hope