"Where there is patience and humility,
there is neither anger nor disturbance."
(Francis of Assisi, The Admonitions)Lord, being a Christian means that I am called to live a life that involves a degree of uncertainty. Like Mary, I am unsure what your call will require of me in the recent moment, tomorrow, or many years from now. Strengthen my trust in you so that I may be your faithful servant in the world. Lord of all longing, in our society of instant gratification, patience is not a cultivated virtue. Remind me that I do not need to immediately have all the things I long for and all the answers to my questions.
In the waiting, we often learn much about ourselves, come to a greater awareness of what is truly important in life, and gain a better appreciation for the things we must await. When someone or some circumstance causes you to wait today, slow down and view that person or circumstance as a blessing. Is it really that important that you immediately have what you want? What do you learn about yourself as you wait? What do you notice around you when you slow down to wait?
From Advent and Christmas Wisdom from Saint Francis of Assisi by John V. Kruse (Liguori, 2008).
With thanks to Vicki K Black
It seems to me this year that Advent is all about waiting…
The waiting our forebears underwent is no different from that of our own. We wait in pain and in anguish, we wait in ignorance and powerlessness, we wait in darkness and with hope. We do not see where our lives are going, what all the humdrum means. We wait that, one day, things will all make sense. Chances are good that we won't live long enough to see it. This is not for the impatient. This is not for the weak. This is not for the faith-less. This is Advent, darn it.
Barbara, Barefoot toward the Light.
I have to confess that this is how Advent seems to be for me, too, this year. It's partly the unusually cold weather (-5 Celsius in the back garden this morning) and partly the news from all over the world, but it's also what God is doing with me. I don't seem to be able to settle to anything, really to begin anything. I have all sorts of projects half-begun, but nothing I can settle into. I keep fiddling around with things, but in my heart of hearts I know it's no good. I just have to wait, with the waiting that Advent is. As Barbara say, this is not for the faint-hearted. But I feel faint-hearted, even as I know all I can do is face into the time-storm, and wait it out, riding to nothing more than the sea-anchor of my faith. Advent. Hmm.
4 comments:
'time-storm'...what a marvelously rich description. Just naming our disturbances almost sends them away.
I don't feel so weird anymore! Thank you, Mike!!!!! I can't motivate myself to do much these days. If the sword isn't hanging over my head, I'll just step over it gingerly and fiddle around some more! ;)
And, if you think -5 Celsius is witheringly cold, try -20 C! I am grateful I don't have to rush to work on such days any more.
The passage from Vicki Black leaves me much to think about. Thank you for sharing your own experience of Advent this year. If you find a solution, let me know. I'm waiting. ;)
Advent does feel different this year. I'm picking that up in my own life and on several of the blogs I read. I'm not sure what we're all waiting for, but the waiting seems palpable.
I've been feeling faint-(or absent)hearted, so thank you for these Advent thoughts. In lectio last week, I was given the word "Patience" which equals waiting which equals Advent. Thanks for the reminder.
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