Susan LaffertyAdvent. We light candles in the pauses of the season. Waiting.
At times we’re carried along by the crowd in motion around us. Rushing between this and that. We don’t want to be caught up in the shopping and glitter and expectations. But it happens. Again.
So we stop. Breathe. Consider what is true.
And waiting, we worship.
My earliest memory of waiting? “Wait a minute. Just hold your horses.”
And the minute is never a minute.
From childhood I push for immediate fulfillment of desires. Quick resolution of problems and struggles. Longing for what’s just out of my reach. The future.
I want it now.
So I hurry up! And wait.
We walk. Blue-skied afternoon. Fallen leaves swirling on the path. Picked up and scattered by the wind.
An after-Thanksgiving-dinner tradition, this walk takes us through shade and cold. To places in the sun. Beside the lake. Where water moves, reflecting rays.
Conversations and laughter accompany this walk. As we breathe cool air in the shifting light.
The evidence of God’s creation and Presence is all around us on that restful stroll through the neighborhood. And I think about the ways God speaks. Breathes. And moves.