Advent fatigue

I usually get pretty excited about Christmas time. Not so much the version you get at the local shopping centre, but the bits and pieces of family tradition that we inherited from our parents or established in the early years of marriage and when we first had kids.

For the last seven years, one of those traditions has been our advent calendar. It started simply and has grown over the years to include some other activities as well, many which have been borrowed from contributors to this blog.

But this November, I have to confess, was a bit different. I've been tired, we've had a few viruses through the family this term, and we have a new baby who's been rolling around the floor and generally making her presence felt. Then my grandfather died, which has brought all sorts of grief and stress. Suddenly, the whole idea of pulling out the old calico advent calendar and cranking it up for another year felt more like a chore than a joy.

In the end, it was just tradition, stubbornness and my children's sense of expectation that motivated me to do it again this year. So, last week (on the very last day of November!) Elsie and I stuck some numbers on 25 paper bags and threw some goodies into a few of them, and I sat down and read Luke 1 and 2 and tried to remember some of the activities that worked last year.

I'm glad I forced myself to do it! As I read those first two chapters of Luke I remembered why I started the tradition in the first place. I was particularly struck, all over again, by these words from Zechariah's prophecy:

"And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;

for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,

to give knowledge of salvation to his people

in the forgiveness of their sins,

because of the tender mercy of our God,

whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high

to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,

to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

(Luke 1:76-79 ESV)

Advent is not just a season for shiny, happy, crafty people with model families gathered around beautiful handmade nativity scenes in gorgeous, glowing, tidy living rooms. It's also - in fact it's mainly - for 'those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death'. And it's to them that the light is promised. 

That's a promise I need to keep remembering.