The first Sunday of Advent was a week ago. I placed our wooden ring of a wreath in the middle of the dining room table and placed one long, purple taper candle in one of its four holders.
Hope in 2020.
Is that even a thing this year?
Actually, Hope, with a capital “H,” has been a very real thing in my life for over 9 years now. Z’s full middle name is “Lyne” (in honor of my sister) capped off with “Hope.”
She has been a source of hope from the time she was growing in my belly, and this year, along with hope, she’s brought laughter, silliness, and helpfulness. Z adapted right away to wearing a mask; she first tried on surgical masks while she was a toddler and I had at home IVIG infusions, so they were pretty normal. After a few reminders for her to wash her hands after being out or handling deliveries, she needed no more. I’ve marvelled at how my kid takes Corona safety precautions far more seriously than many adults four times her age. Well… maybe not quite marvelled… more like “SMH”.
“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.”Psalm 130:5
Psalm 130:5 says, “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.” This verse really sums up how I feel, not just now, at Advent, but also for the past 9 months. When the shutdowns began in March, we were in the midst of Lent, waiting and preparing for Easter, for the crucifixion and the Resurrection. Although it came, calendar-wise, I never really felt like it did. Forget giving up alcohol or sweets, I had given up visits with Mommy, lunches with Joe, trips to the movies, working out at the gym, actually going to church. I felt like I gave up life.
In many ways, I still do.
So as Advent began, I knew I am still lost in Lent. Even the purple of the candle seems oh-so-fitting.
I wait. My very soul waits.
I hope. Hope that God will see us through.
And everyday, I read Scripture with Z. His word, I place in the mind of my Hope.