“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.… For to us a child is born, to us a son is given….” (Isaiah 9:2, 6)

Maybe Advent is the right time, if there ever was such a thing, for a pandemic. A time of darkness and challenge, a time of anticipation and hope, a time of waiting and longing for the Light of the World to come and save us.

After months of caution and quarantining, this year I find myself craving the familiar annual events that are usually too much for me — neighborhood parties, Christmas parades, awkward family gatherings and, surprise, surprise, even the frenetic shopping.

Instead of those people-based activities and knowing gathering together is too much of a risk for the people I love, I’m hoping to exhaust myself in the outdoors, despite the cold and the dark. Walks in Minooka Park, a habit we started this fall; fires in the yard; raking and physically taxing yard work. Maybe even skiing, if we get snow before Christmas and I feel like a challenge. Lord knows, I’ve tried and failed at skiing before.

But I’m mostly looking forward to the times in my house, in hearth and home: quiet meals with just my family, puzzles at the dining room table, and warm fires in the fireplace. And fires outdoors with my neighbors and close friends. But not too close, please, keep six feet and bring your own beverages.

So as the days get shorter, let’s remember to hold on to who and what we can this Advent. Hug that snarly teen. Pet the stinky old dog. Embrace the cold and dark weather. Find a challenge — maybe tackle a long-forgotten closet for cleaning. Wait out the quarantine, knowing you’re keeping others safe.

And watch closely like you’d watch a candle burning in the dark. Watch for the flickering and flares, the moments that remind us of God’s love — the sunrises and sunsets, the glistening rain or glittering snow, the warmth of a friend’s word, whether in person, by Zoom or phone, savor the moments of connection with people however they come.

Watch the warm flames wherever you find them and know brighter days are ahead — the coming of the Messiah, the coming of more sunlight, the coming of a vaccine and maybe, if we’re careful in what we do, an abatement in the pandemic. We wait for all these things, patiently or impatiently doesn’t matter now. We wait, too often alone — in the dark, in the quarantines, in our houses, in the hospitals, at our computer — for the birth of the promised one, Emmanuel, God with us.

Hold on to the hope Advent and the coming of Christ offers us during this dark time. Stay safe. Stay centered in your home and hearth. Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Reach out if you need help. Friends are only a phone call away and Christ is coming. Stay safe to see a New Year and better times.

Amy Gilgenbach
Director of Administration