Early Dark

The early darkness of the coming winter usually doesn't bother me, but this year I feel differently, and it's bothered me since the time-change. I suppose J. and I are becoming more than normally aware of our own mortality, as his mom, the last of our parents, seems to have entered her final weeks. Our oldest dog, Shadow, seems to be entering her final stretch as well, though I have no reason to think she's in any pain. We're also watching a loved one cope with addictions, and anticipating a potential job loss next year. These are all difficult events. It's hard to see past them somehow.They loom large, and we find ourselves in their shadow.

Life in general is difficult for many people we know right now, as we wait for things to get better in so many ways. Waiting through sadness is harder than for future joy. Yet I guess Advent is all about waiting; in fact, it's about waiting through difficult times.  Who had harder lives than people in sub-Roman Palestine?  Certainly not me, though the temptation to whine is strong.

And so we wait, lighting the Advent candle every night, and trying to avoid the commercial monstrosity that Christmas has become now.  "We wait in hope,"  as we sing in our Advent introit at Church.

Even so, come, Lord Jesus.