Here it is…that ache so familiar…a longing for something other, right here at the beginning of December. It comes to me in the early hours just as the sky outside my studio window begins to glow. It comes as I pull out decorations, some as old as my husband and I have been married, 34 years. And that many years full of memories and goodness and hardship and grace. Yes, always grace.
It comes in the music of the seasons, in silent-night notes wafting through the house, in tinsel-y tunes as I drive around shopping, in choral glories as I play favorite CD’s of holiday grandeur. The ache fills my heart and I welcome it, expand to breathe it in, though it is tinged with not-a-little sadness. This ache I have recognized for years as the song of my true Home. It is as if Advent opens up a chasm in the heavens and I can hear more clearly what angels must hear all the time…whispers of enduring Love, promises of a King who accompanies us in every moment, a liquid grace that is always running through my days but somehow here at Advent, I hear it louder, stronger. Yet still…it can be hidden.
At times I have to dig for it behind the clamour of so much dis-ease in our society. Sometimes the glitz and pull of holiday merry-making veils the resounding splendor of a King’s arrival in my heart. And far too often the mess and clutter of my own heart leaves no room for the tiny babe to rest His head.
This day I will dive into the clutter of a merry-making studio and make some space for whatever this Advent holds for me. Could this be the “making” I do this month? The making of “room”, the clearing of space to listen and to see, the full breathing in of the expanse of grace? Could this be the work of my hands this season?
May it be so, in my life and in yours. Make room. Make space for Light to dwell, for Hope to flourish, for grace to abound. Keep making…❤️