As we approach the end of Advent and the beginning of Christmas, folks begin to move. Schools and offices are closing and year-end projects are completed, so we begin the journey to Grandma's house or the grandkids' house or the beach or the mountains or the lake or wherever you gather to celebrate. And this travel is not glamorous in any way, shape, or form (what travel is anymore?). Instead we cram ourselves, the kids, the dog, their miscellaneous supplies, gifts in various states of wrap, bizarre cooking implements used once a year for that ancestral dish that it wouldn't be Christmas without, etc. and pray the trunk doesn't burst open. And when we arrive, we are frazzled and tired, and dramatically exhale - we made it. But wait, get off your duff, put on that Christmas sweater I knitted you, its time for Uncle So-and-so's party. No rest for the weary!
Today's Lego is a Low Altitude Assault Transport, used to support infantry units with firepower and additional personnel.
When I travel at this time of year, I often feel like a passenger on some type of troop transport with my own stress personified as the commander - "go, go, go! Let's move, move move!" I also, in a rare moment of peace and enlightenment, think of Mary and Joseph and their journey to Bethlehem. The "stress of holiday travel" is petty, small potatoes (and most definitely a First World Problem) compared to the journey of the Holy Family: Mary very pregnant, riding a donkey, the crush of other folks going to their hometowns to be counted in the census, sleeping in a barn. "The cattle are lowing," sounds idyllic - imagine trying to get a good night's sleep in a flippin' pile of hay! And all of that is small potatoes compared to what Mary and Joseph knew in their souls about what was about to happen: the birth of the Emmanuel, "God with us." Moreover, to some degree, they were probably grieving: knowing their beloved son would not have an easy life serving as the Messiah. Parents want the best for their kids, not the hardest road of all. Stress does not begin to cut it and I can not begin to describe the layers of emotions Mary and Joseph must have been feeling.
The timing could not be worse
But it’s the law. My husband has to go,
Even though I’m well along.
You are lively within me, moving and kicking me.
Your kicking hurts. It wakes me in the night,
Reminds me, as I walk
More and more laboriously,
You are coming soon.
I suppose we are safe enough
After all, it was an angel who came.
Looking back, I have never doubted that.
My husband has been tender, despite my disgrace.
He is sure, too, about the angel.
So I suppose we have no cause to worry.
It’s only my aching back
The sharp pains from your tiny feet,
The smell and press of crowds, and all the delays.
The only thing that matters now, is bearing you safely
Into this messy world
And now even that I cannot control.
I did what I could do, but it’s all left behind.
At home, we had a place prepared for you.
I longed to see you soon.
Then I hoped you would come later, after our return
But now I know for sure that you will be coming
To a place we did not know.
I catch my breath at a sudden squeeze of pain.
My body recognizes the agony,
Already begun.
As our Advent journey continues - physically, emotionally, temporally, and spiritually - realize that the journey itself is often the richest part of the journey. There we learn so much, there we have the time to ponder and wonder, there God walks with us and is made known to us. Good journey.
Have a great day. See you tomorrow. Blessed Advent.
1 comments:
I think my favorite part of your Advent blog is the link to the Star Wars wiki on each page!
Well done, sir.
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