advent week 2: on glitching, isolated souls like mine

To hear Brandi read this week’s essay, click here: https://youtu.be/taplJk5c6Wk

The day after Thanksgiving, I forced my family to go on a hike. The kids mostly indulged my need to immerse us in nature and feel the good family vibes, even though they clearly would have chosen a different activity to find restoration. Our youngest child is in a hovering stage, constantly near me, touching, holding, talking, asking. It feels like a lot. Still, the woods are vast, and I hoped being in them would make me feel generous.

Soon she tired, which led to whining, followed quickly by arm jerking and, finally, a seated protest. I pulled my arm free and kept walking. Finding herself abandoned, she decided to run ahead again. I reassured her that there was a bench at the top of the hill beside the trail, and if she hustled, she could enjoy a nice long rest. She skipped ahead and soon perched, happily, on the bench. As I passed by, she grabbed my hand, and asked me to sit. I told her I didn’t need a rest. That I wanted to hike.

“But I want you to be with me. Sit with me.”

Friends, I’m ashamed to admit I recoiled. She wanted me, and I could not give me. My daughter didn’t want to get her way, she wanted her mom to sit and be there, fully present. Understanding exactly what she needed, I knew instinctively that is the one thing I could not give.

For months, I’ve cooked and baked. I’ve watched movies and played games. I’ve helped with homework, reviewed sight words, created 5 office spaces, and constantly asked who needs what. The week of Thanksgiving, I didn’t leave the house for 7 days, and was physically present, making memories right and left.

Sort of.

The truth is that I have gotten good at being there without really being there. Without meaning to, my daughter called my bluff. When asked to sit and be, fully, with her, I could not do it. In fact, I physically winced, shaking her hand off and quickly walking away.

Since Covid infected our city, abruptly changing our patterns, I’ve noticed problems in me. Perhaps it is teaching and socializing so often via zoom. Maybe it is because of the blurred lines between work and play, rest and action, home and the gym and worship and the office and school. Whatever the cause, I have started glitching. It feels like the screen of my soul is torn, frozen in time, interrupted. I can’t stop multitasking, frantically feeling like I’ll never have time or space to get it all done. Privacy is gone, along with the hours of quiet I normally call my own.  I can’t focus, and have little intellectual or relational stamina. I feel as though I’ve lost the ability to even locate my whole self, let alone bring or share her with someone else.

When my daughter asked for me—all of me—to join her on the bench, it felt like she had asked me to extract some bone marrow for her on the spot. It was too costly. During Covid, I’ve gone through the motions of relating to others in order to protect my core, only to now realize I can no longer locate said core, and instead must settle for occasionally available slivers.

This is why Advent provides good news for any of us who suffer from a glitching soul like mine.

Advent promises us a God who defies such fracturing, who refuses to split Godself to accommodate a moment. Indeed, in Bethlehem all those years ago, the whole God became a whole baby who would grow into a present man who constantly offered all of himself to the people he encountered. Advent is not just about a baby, but about celebrating a God who came and stayed near, offering everything to those around him. I desperately need to be with a God like that, and believe a God like that might bring me back to me too. If you, like me, find yourself glitching, take heart that God is able to restore you with presence. If you, like me, find yourself weary and exhausted, take heart that God is willing to renew you with rest. If you, like me, find yourself cringing every time you are asked to engage, take heart that God overcomes what overwhelms you by becoming Immanuel. Lean in to Advent, as God draws near, even to you and to me. Enjoy the second week of readings below.

Second Week

Gather around the Advent Wreath on Sunday 12/6

Light the purple candle of The Way, or Bethlehem. 

The Savior of the World is born in a Manger; love incarnate has come!

Hymn of Bethlehem (Listen to this old hymn around the candle)

“Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.  Round yon virgin, mother and child.  Holy infant so tender and mild, sleep in heavenly peace.  Silent night, holy night, shepherds quake at the sight.  Glories stream from heaven afar, heavenly hosts sing, “Alleluia!” Christ the Savior is born.  Silent night, holy night, Son of God, love’s pure light.  Radiant beams from thy holy face.  With the dawn of redeeming grace.  Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.”

 Prayer for the Second Week of Advent:

“Lord Jesus, come yourself, and dwell with us, be human as we are, and overcome what overwhelms us.  Come into the midst of my evil, come close to my unfaithfulness.  Share my sin, which I hate and which I cannot leave.  Be my brother, Thou Holy God…Come with me in my death, come with me in my suffering, come with me as I struggle…make me holy and pure, despite my sin...”                                                                                                                               -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Dec 7  Matthew 1:18-25

Dec 8  Exo 3:13-15; John 1:1-18

Dec 9  Luke 1:11-38

Dec 10 Luke 1:39-56

Dec 11 Luke 1:57-79

Dec 12 Luke 2:1-7

Readings for the Second Week:

“In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing.  It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself.”                                                                                                                  -Mother Teresa

“It is impossible to meet God without abandon, without exposing yourself, being raw.”                                                                                             –Bono

“This moment must be about the search and preparation for the way of Christ; the way that leads from light to darkeness, from bondage to freedom, from brokenness to wholeness, from disunity to community, from death to life. We are only ready for Christmas to the extent we are prepared to follow in the way of Jesus, the light.”

                                                                                                            -Ray A Owens

“Confession propels the community to imagine a world beyond their current state of sinful existence.  Lament that recognizes the reality of brokenness allows the community to express confession in its proper context.  Confession acknowledges the need for God and opens the door for God’s intervention.  Confession in lament relies on God’s work for redemption.”                                -Soong-Chan Rah

“Surrender your own poverty and acknowledge your nothingness to the Lord.  Whether you understand it or not, God loves you, is present in you, lives in you, dwells in you, calls you, saves you and offers you an understanding and compassion which are like nothing you have ever found in a book or heard in a sermon.”

                                                                                                -Thomas Merton