The Second Sunday of Advent

Snow is falling outside my door on this somewhat frosty (-4°C; 25°F) morning. Inside, my Advent Candles sit on the long harvest table in the midst of the jumble of busy wildness that is my kitchen, the place where I spend most of my time. I light the first candle - hope - and then stop. 

The second candle signifies peace and I can't bring myself  to give it light. All is really not at all right in the world. This whole peace thing is a bloody mess and has been for too many for too long! Is there any point in this world gone mad with aggression to even entertain the concept of peace however symbolic it may be? 

I find myself wandering back to the old story, the one that has angels, and good news, and wonderful signs. It feels comfortable, peaceful. But of course the news of the day 2000+ years ago was not that much different from today. Lots of bloodshed, death, persecution, and dirty dealing.
And yet, she dared to imagine peace. 

Advent stands in the thick of my December life, in the disorder that is the world today and asks me to dare to open my arms and heart to the way of peace, to imagine.

"You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one."

John Lennon: Imagine (have a listen) 

So I light the second small candle, right in the middle of my wild busy kitchen and dare to imagine.

Peace begins with me.

(And when it comes to lighting the darkness, two candles are better than one!)

©2025 April Hoeller