The Fourth Sunday of Advent

My Advent candles sit amidst all the clutter that is my kitchen at this time of year. In the background, you can see various packages, a stick blender and the very important "Altar of caffeine," aka the espresso machine. The debris field of post-it notes on my desk to the right, is  thankfully obscured. The season of Advent sits in the midst of all the clutter that is Christmas, quietly lighting the way.

And we have made it to the fourth and last Sunday of this season of anticipation. Mary and Joseph have arrived at the crèche. They have traveled around my living room since the beginning of December, stopping on this window sill or that, this table or that, but now they have found a place to settle down for a bit. There’s not much in the stable, just a few animals grazing on hay in a manger. The shepherds are clustered around, and the Wise Men – well God knows where they are, but surely they are still a long way off.

So here they are, this unlikely couple, these two very ordinary people, all alone, waiting. I wonder how many nights they spent huddled in the cave? How many dawns saw them both disappointed and relieved that the birth had not happened? How many mornings did they wake up wondering if they had gotten it all wrong? How many times did they lament that this was not the perfect home birth they wanted??

Every year traditions, expectations, memories, all clamour for the top spot. The pressure - all of it self-imposed - mounts to pull off a magnificent Christmas. While this year I've had to back off on creating the best celebration ever, (well that's what I keep telling myself) I still want everything to be very good. I still want most of decorations in their rightful place. I still want the sumptuous feast to be as it's always been. I still want the "Kodak" moment, the one with all the right trimmings and all the right people, even though the only place there has ever been a picture perfect image has been on a cookie sheet.

Yet there is always a magical moment when it all does come together, a single shining instant when hope, peace, joy, and love catch up with each other, and Christmas happens. Sometimes these moments pop up before the Big Day; sometimes as the calendar marches toward the New Year, I've been left wondering if somehow I missed it.  But Christmas doesn't have to obey my calendar and nothing I do can ever make Christmas perfect. I can't orchestrate it, though God knows I do try!  There is something bigger going on here, something way beyond me...

Eternal Light of long nights and bright stars,
open my senses,
heighten my expectation
and make pregnant my hope.

Within my heart there is a Christmas moment:
a Bethlehem where light shines with tender memories;
where angelic voices sing out lustily and with good courage;
a place of wonder where all is calm, all is bright.

Eternal Light of long nights and bright stars,
journey with me through these last days
that I may know and cherish my Christmas moments.

©2025 April Hoeller