When the Weary World Still Feels Weary

Last Christmas was the hardest Christmas I have experienced. Days before candles were lit at the Christmas Eve service at my church and merry songs of joy and celebration were sung, I was standing next to my family while my Aunt Shell’s body was lowered into the ground in a casket. I was still raw from the loss, unable to sleep and unable to drive anywhere without weeping in my car, when December 25 rolled around and seemed to demand happiness that felt impossible.

At the start of this Advent season, I was determined that this Christmas would be joyful - holly jolly and merry all the way. I’d decorate. I’d make cookies and turn on twinkle lights to beat away the darkness looming in the corners of my heart. I’d follow old traditions and make new ones if those felt too hard.

For all my good intentions, Advent just hasn’t been what I hoped. We are less than a week away from Christmas and instead of the joy I’ve been trying to muster, sadness has been a more constant companion.

There are big reasons why this season is hard: navigating the particular grief that comes with celebrating the holidays without people you love, totaling my vehicle, moving into a new house. There are smaller things as well, which all seem to have collected into a big pile this month: having to spend Saturdays at the hospital taking glucose tests, not having a working shower in our new house, navigating the frustrating world of car insurance and spending hours on the phone, waiting weeks for wifi to be installed.

All of this feels compounded by the cheer and merriness of the season. The songs and lights and gifts - all of which usually make this season so delightful to me - feel like cruel reminders that I should be rejoicing because Jesus has come!

All of this - this mess of brokenness and frustration and the overwhelming urge to just hunker down until January - this is what Christmas is for. This is the weary world that rejoices at the coming of a Savior. This is the world that Jesus came to, in all its pain and injustice. This is the beauty of Immanuel, God with us. God with us in our grief. God with us in our fear. God with us in our brokenness.

And yet the world today still feels weary and we find ourselves in this messy middle between two Advents. Theologians call this time the “already, not yet.” Yes, Jesus has come and yes, we rejoice, but we are still waiting for him to come again and restore all things. We are still waiting, and our hearts still ache and long for what will be because what is is only part of the story.

Maybe you’ve felt the weight of brokenness this December - broken expectations, broken families, a broken body - and the not yet-ness of Advent is pressing into you. Your sadness is not wrong. Your loneliness and pain is not something you should have “gotten over” by now. That ache in your soul for things to be made right is not something to be silenced. The same God who spoke the world into existence and spoke the babbling cries of an infant in order to be with us is the same God who is sustaining us now in this time of waiting.

The hope of the Christmas season is not a blind hope. It’s not a hope without teeth. It doesn’t demand we close our eyes to everything happening around us while we belt out another verse of Silent Night. This is a hope that finds its way into that empty chair at the table, that heartbreaking test result, that negative pregnancy test, and Immanuel, God with us, whispers that he is here now too. And one day he will come again, not as a baby but as a reigning King, and all will be set right and all will be made well.

The Rhythm of Our Advent

This little corner of the internet has been quiet the past few weeks for a couple of reasons: 1) I’ve been working on a project for my church that is now in the out-of-my-hands-but-not-yet-into-yours stage. (If you attend Horizons Church, keep an eye out for the Advent guide!) and 2) Josiah and I have been spending most of our spare time preparing to move. I wrote a bit about how our rental home was for sale and it looks like someone is interested in purchasing it, so we’re moving. If you think about it, we’d love your prayers. We love our home and aren’t excited about leaving it, but we’re trusting that this is God’s best for us and trying to walk faithfully in that.  

Now that that’s out of the way, I wanted to share a few ways that I celebrate the season of Advent. Advent is the season on the church calendar that stretches the four weeks leading up to Christmas, and it’s traditionally a season to practice expectant waiting for Jesus’s coming.

There are probably hundreds of lists on the internet about ways to maximize your time this Christmas to attend all the parties and see all the lights and wrap all the presents with picture perfect homemade bows. If that is how you love to celebrate Christmas, then please do those things and enjoy them! I’ve found that a slower pace makes it easier for me to focus my heart on Jesus and enjoy the good gifts of this season without feeling rushed and frantic. Below are some of the traditions I’ve made that help foster that slowness and expectancy.

Before I got married, I celebrated Advent on my own using a few different devotionals/guides over the years. (One of my favorites was The Dawning of Indestructible Joy which I still highly recommend!) Last year, Josiah and I tried the She Reads Truth and He Reads Truth Advent books and loved them so we’re doing the same thing this year. Each day of Advent, there’s a scripture reading and online devotional that we do on our own. Then, each Sunday of Advent, we read the scripture together and light the candles in our Advent wreath. Celebrating Advent this way is one of my favorite traditions.

I’ve already started listening to Christmas music this year and have been loving The Oh Hellos’ Family Christmas Album. The songs/movements are soulful and deep with bouts of joy and celebration mixed in, which feels like the perfect mix for a season where there is much to celebrate but there is also much we are still waiting for expectantly while suffering presses into us. This album balances that in a really unique way.

Last year I perfected the art of the homemade chai tea latte. I use Twinings Chai Tea (which you can find at nearly every grocery store) and heat up about ¼ cup whole milk while the tea is brewing. My younger brother gave me a milk frother (like this) for Christmas a couple years ago and I use it to froth the warm milk before pouring it into my cup of tea. I top it off with a sprinkle of cinnamon and it always makes me feel Christmas-y to drink it in the morning!

One of the ways I practice simplicity during the Advent season is in the way I wrap gifts. Every year I buy a big roll of plain butcher paper and use it as wrapping paper. It’s significantly more cost effective than buying rolls of bright glittery wrapping paper, and I personally prefer the understated look of the matching gifts under our tree. To decorate them a bit, sometimes I’ll add a sprig of greenery from outside, some red or dark green yarn, or a hand-lettered word on the package like “merry” or “holly.”

A few years ago I tried my hand at making clay gift tags and I’ve made them every year since. They are a bit more labor-intensive, but I love the way they look on packages, and it’s a fun project to take on while listening to Christmas music. I used to use salt dough, but last year I tried a recipe for cornstarch dough and it’s what I’ll use again this year. It’s whiter than salt dough and smoother to write on. The recipe talks about adding glitter and making different shapes, but I like to keep it simple by making plain white circular tags that I can write on later with a Sharpie.

While not exactly an Advent-specific tradition, I love to make homemade bread this time of year. I follow a simple recipe and the rise time reminds me that Advent is a season of waiting. While it’s baking, our whole house smells wonderful and inviting, and the best part (of course) is eating it warm out of the oven with butter.

During Advent, Josiah and I love to diffuse Young Living’s Christmas Spirit essential oil. I don’t sell essential oils and nearly all of mine are the cheapest brands I could find on Amazon or at Target, but this little bottle is worth the $10. It smells like a Christmas tree and oranges and cinnamon, and it always lasts the entire month of December even though we diffuse it every time we are home and awake. Whenever I smell it now, I think of sweet Christmas memories with my husband and the cozy feeling of our home in the winter.

However you choose to celebrate, I hope this season is full and rich with reminders to you of the Lord’s faithfulness and love.