Scrolling through the November camera roll, I see that this is the month where we switched from fall to winter. Early photos feature long shadows on the golden grass, dark silhouettes of leafless trees against the gradient colors of dusk, foggy moonlit nights, and neighbourhood bunnies turning white.

And then, “snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow…”

Photos of mostly white, with every bough, branch and twig outfitted in Narnia-like fashion. It’s own kind of magical beauty, taken in during long sessions of shovelling and scraping, or through the window from the warmth of the indoors.

We enjoyed a long, warm autumn and the refreshing blanket of winter has brought the Christmas season into focus. It’s much easier to get in the mood when we’re surrounded by a white wonderland! Glimmers of lights and ribbons are slowly beginning to appear in our home, but we have yet to officially deck the halls. Tomorrow is the first Sunday of Advent, and tonight we’ll spend time preparing and bringing the season alive in our space. Favourite ornaments will be carefully selected and placed on the tree, the little village will fill the top of the piano, and stockings will go up in their usual place.

In my heart, I don’t quite feel ready. But as I noted on Easter this year, you don’t have to be ready for Jesus for Jesus to be ready for you. 

This whole Advent season is a time of preparation for the joyous celebration of His first arrival to bring salvation, while looking forward to His Second Coming to make the world right again. Tomorrow we’ll focus on Hope, next week it’s Joy, followed by Peace and finally, Love. And then, Christmas Eve. The rhythms of the Advent season have offered me space and time to fully prepare, to enter into worship again and again with a sharp focus on the reason we celebrate. It’s not a mad rush to cram in all the fun in less than a month (although I do love the fun!), but a thoughtful and intentional opportunity to turn my eyes upon the only One who can bring true hope, joy, peace and love to a world in desperate need, and to discover His active presence in unlikely places that are wildly despairing, brimming with sorrow, steeped in conflict and coldly apathetic.

Lord, this is my Advent prayer:

Bring me back from the edge of the pit. Turn my mourning into dancing. Heal the wounds that cause me to lift my fist. Warm my heart again. And in this season where I long for your Second Coming, may I bring this very same hope, joy, peace and love to those I meet, including those who I assume do not need me to do so. Open my eyes to Your work in the world, and show me how to participate in it in ways that bring You glory.

Since ancient times no one has heard,

    no ear has perceived,

no eye has seen any God besides you,

    who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.

You come to the help of those who gladly do right,

    who remember your ways.

But when we continued to sin against them,

    you were angry.

    How then can we be saved?

All of us have become like one who is unclean,

    and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;

we all shrivel up like a leaf,

    and like the wind our sins sweep us away.

No one calls on your name

    or strives to lay hold of you;

for you have hidden your face from us

    and have given us over to[b] our sins.

Yet you, Lord, are our Father.

    We are the clay, you are the potter;

    we are all the work of your hand.

Do not be angry beyond measure, Lord;

    do not remember our sins forever.

Oh, look on us, we pray,

    for we are all your people.

Isaiah 64:5-9 (NIV)