the weary world rejoices

I missed my children's chirstmas pageant.

there is a six day old baby in my house and I have not held her one time.

my parents were in town and I saw them for less than an hour.

no pottery open house for me last weekend.

my fever finally broke yesterday after holding steady in the 101 range for four days. my eyes are still a puffy swollen mess, but my throat doesn't hurt so much anymore. jamin seemed better this morning after two days of earache. he's missed more days of school in december than he's attended. and eric is the champion holding us all together.

did I mention I started my period in the middle of all this? tmi, you say? yeah, that's what I said, too.

last year's advent was a beautiful time. I was in a slump after coming home from camp and a season of waiting, of quiet anticipation was just what I needed. we lit candles, we sang songs, and that was enough. we got through the darkness. it is always my intention to make our december calendars full of empty squares, leaving lots of room for savoring the season. nothingness is always my priority in advent time so I have lots of time for reflection, for whatever happens to come up, for waiting.

this year, advent has yet to make it into my consciousness. there was a baby to get birthed, new friends to invest in, out-of-town company to entertain. thanksgiving was late which made advent seem early. someone always needed something. there were school projects and stocking lists and darn it, we still haven't put up a tree. we put up lights on the house, but they're the wrong ones, and I think we've only turned them on twice. so because I wouldn't pay attention to advent, because I wouldn't give pause for the holy, my body went on strike.

the passages we read from isaiah this time for year talk a lot about the people walking in darkness. the people walking in darkness don't know they are getting it wrong because they can't see what they're doing. people walking in darkness very rarely get things to turn out the way they want, but they can't see the end result anyway. people in darkness keep plugging away, hoping for the best, never being quite sure if they've made it or not. but. only people in darkness can truly see that great light. it is the contrast that makes it so miraculous.

so maybe only the weary can truly rejoice. maybe it takes three days in bed to humble oneself enough to ask for help so that the joyous work of advent can truly take place. maybe mandatory stillness really is required. and maybe sometimes if we can't see the contrast, it has to be made stronger for us, strong enough to get our full attention.

I am rejoicing in the midst of my weariness today. when I emailed my tribe to ask for help for our family yesterday, boy did they rally. I went to bed last night with my head on a brand new pillow, my belly full of homemade goodness, my body warm from wood chopped by friends, and my heart filled with good wishes and kindness. advent is not over. there is still time to anticipate the coming light. I haven't missed it all together. and my biggest rejoicing moment today? halfway through writing this post, a weary rabbit slipped a precious baby into my arms. I finished my writing with kitra in a sling on my chest. my first chance to hold this girl has lasted well over an hour. the weary world rejoices, indeed.