I don’t have delicate hands.
And I don’t have a gentle spirit.
I have dirt under my fingernails, cuts, and calluses.
I like to be part of creating-
Which is really just a fancy way of saying I like to be part of doing-
Which is really just a kind way of saying I like to be busy.
As I finish up this semester of school, I am ready for the next to begin. I don’t want to stop, or pass go, (although I would gladly collect $200). I want things to keep on moving, for the calendar to stay full, and new responsibilities to come my way. I want to productively busy myself into a life of adventures and really good coffee.
But as Advent season approaches I am reminded of the importance to wait.
We wait expectantly- not as a people without hope.
Yet, we wait nonetheless.
For me, waiting can feel like a weight-
A burden too heavy- a duty too menial.
The most Holy waiting I’ve done was when I traveled to Greece. There, we waited with purpose and sacred anticipation. I’ve made it my prayer recently, that I would honor the lessons of Greece in my every day living and being:
more campfires, more honest conversations,
more seeing the anticipation as sacred and not as something to be scared of.
Some of the best feedback I’ve ever received was from my sweet friend Karen, “things can’t grow if you keep digging them up to see if they’ve grown”
So here’s to letting things grow this Advent season.
Even in the winter months, when I can’t see it happening.
Even when I’m restless- in those moments may I learn to truly rest.
And here’s to being okay with cuts and calluses and bruises…
but a little more gentle with myself, my words, and my schedule.
and if you need a little extra dose of courage in the waiting can I suggest you give this song a listen::