Mary pondered these things

And Mary pondered all these things in her heart. The Gospel of Luke

Tell me again the reason for Advent season?

Sun visits us today, and I spend the afternoon with secateurs and a rake and a wheelbarrow. It’s time to tidy up the garden. Garden cleanup means trimming, deadheading and removing spent stalks or canes or seed heads. It is the time when the garden readies itself for dormancy. For rest. Yes, it is the season for waiting.

And I wonder. What if the power is in the waiting itself? In other words, in the space waiting creates. What if, it’s not about getting over the waiting, or having answers for the waiting. In other words, it is not about absence, but awareness. Truth is, we don’t know what Mary learned as she pondered. What we do know is that she made space. To receive. To welcome. To invite.

There is an import, weight, value and substance in the very space that waiting allows.

What if the waiting of Advent is the story of a God who pitches his tent among us,

even as we live in the midst of a culture grown weary from too much work,

from too much speed,

from to much fear

and from too much war?

A waiting that provides a space for recollection.
For what we value.
For those things and people, for which we are grateful.
For the gift of simple grace.

(Yes. . .I’ve been away from blogging. . .but in the coming weeks I will begin to write about ways to make space.  Reminders to Pause.  Invitations to embrace the day.  This day.

So stay posted. . .and pass the word. . .)

I have piles of spent stalks and garden debris spread out around the garden. The garden beds are tidier and my muscles feel their AARP age. So I sit on the back deck, and listen to the birds and let the afternoon unfold. And in the quiet, I wait.

Let’s walk down the stairs, in our robes, all sleepy, you know, in the true spirit of Christmas. Zach