Hello my dear friends,
Welcome to this first week of Advent,
This week of hope.
As we settle into this time of listening and stillness,
I invite you to gently arrive.
Close your eyes if it's safe and helpful to do so,
And notice with that simple act of simply closing your eyes,
Your mind naturally gets quieter.
Notice your breath.
Notice the way the ground supports you without asking anything of you,
And as we enter this sacred time of waiting,
Let us root ourselves in the simple statement,
Be still.
Be still.
Allow your body to soften,
Allow your shoulders to lower,
Allow your breath to deepen.
Hope begins with stillness,
Not because everything is already fixed,
Because we make space to remember that renewal is possible.
Next I invite you to adopt an attitude of gratitude and non-judgment.
Let your heart widen to all that is unfolding.
Let go of needing this moment to be anything other than what it is.
In Advent,
Hope is not wishful thinking,
It is spacious trust.
And finally,
Embrace a spirit of peace and loving-kindness toward yourself,
Toward others,
Toward this world in need of healing.
This is our posture of hope,
Still,
Grateful,
Open,
And kind.
Take one slower breath,
And one softer exhale.
The people who walked in deep shadow have seen a great light.
A bright dawn has broken across the land for all who sat in darkness.
For a child will be born to us,
A son given,
His authority will bring peace.
He will be known as wise guide,
Strong protector,
Father of many nations,
Bringer of peace.
His peace will never end.
He will bring justice and make all things right from now to the end of all days.
Isaiah 9 verse 2 and 6-7 Hope begins in the dark.
Advent does not ask us to pretend everything is already healed.
It invites us to hold a small flame,
A flame bright enough to light the next step,
And steady enough to remind us that dawn is coming.
In the story of the first coming,
Yeshua enters the world in vulnerability,
In humility,
In a forgotten corner of empire.
Hope arrives quietly,
Gently,
Unexpectedly,
Like morning light creeping across the horizon long before the sun is fully visible.
And in the story of the second coming,
The coming again of Christ to renew all things.
Hope looks like liberation.
Hope is setting the captives free.
Hope looks like relationships restored.
Hope looks like creation healed and whole.
Hope is all peoples,
All nations,
Sitting together at a table of peace.
Advent draws these two comings together,
The child who has already come and the bringer of peace who is still coming to make all things new.
Hope is not fragile optimism,
It is a steady belief that God is already moving,
Already birthing something new,
Already healing what has been broken,
Already shining light into shadowed places,
Whether in our world,
In our communities,
Or in our own hearts.
Take a moment to simply breathe in this hope.
Breathe in the promise that dawn always follows night.
Breathe in the truth that renewal is possible,
Not because we strive harder,
Yet because God's love is already drawing near.
Imagine a small flame glowing gently in your hands.
Feel its warmth,
Feel its persistence,
Feel its invitation.
This is the hope of Advent.
The hope that light has already come.
And the hope that the light is coming again to heal,
Restore,
And set all things right.
Let your breath rest here for a few moments.
Thank you,
Dear friends,
For beginning this season of Advent in stillness and hope.
As you go from this meditation,
May hope rise gently within you.
May the light that once dawned in Bethlehem shine in your steps today.
And may the promise of liberation,
Reconciliation,
And the healing of all things steady your heart.
May grace and peace,
Light and love be with you.
