I have not been at my best. Far from it.
My heart has ached. I've spent too much time on Facebook. I've tried keeping my phone in the other room. I've turned on the TV. I've turned off the TV. I've talked about it. I've thought about it. I've cried about it. Just today I've started no fewer than four different blog posts.
Know what I haven't done? Pray.
Oh sure, I've prayed for patience in dealing with Clare. I've prayed for my grandma's recovery. I've prayed for the kids to get a good night sleep and for Charles to have a good shift at the hospital. Know who I haven't prayed for? Myself. Know what I haven't asked for? Peace. I've not sat in silence. I've not sought God as the way to heal me. I've not asked him to lighten my load.
No wonder I've felt restless.
Today, as I write, it's snowing. Earlier big, fat, quarter-sized snowflakes were falling. The biggest I have ever seen. It was beautiful. Magical.
All evening, I tried to capture it
|Doing a twirl in the snow!|
I got pictures of snow slowly covering the ground, but I couldn't capture the magic.
|Seriously, each little "pile" is really only one flake.|
I gave up. Then, seemingly suddenly, it was dark, and I was going to try again. I looked out -- Christmas lights glowing in the background. Saint Lucia candles flickering in the foreground. And, as I have so many times before, I saw God in the light.
I didn't just see light. I saw The Light. I felt excited by the promise of Jesus, coming in just a week to lighten the darkness. That is what I need. I need to allow Jesus to be my light, to share my burden, and guide my path. That is Advent -- waiting on the coming of our Savior, and doing it with joyful hope.
O Come, Radiant Dawn. O Come, Emmanuel.