My Advent child, bless her, has a birthday that comes and goes in my overtrying to Wait! Watch! Prepare! How is it that she is so soon six? I love her songs, her babies, her Christmas tree pajamas, and her fire, her determination, her heart.
This season is my favorite and my best, and it is more than half-gone.
This darkness I love, this cold, this long sinking.
The Holy Nights approach.
The realm of Spirit is readying again to offer itself, to descend, to incarnate.
May I be empty, then, and hinder not the flow of grace.