On keeping a low-key Advent
Advent has begun in a muted fashion for me this year. As it's a a quasi-penitential season of waiting, this may actually be an appropriate response. Yet I'm used to a bit more in the way of anticipation. At church, we lost the dear young man I spoke of in my last post, and his funeral was wrenching and painful. In addition, our priest broke her ankle in the middle of a move to her new home, so we have had to deal with the question of whether we can stand to do only Morning and Evening Prayer in Advent, or whether we should seek the ever-more-elusive supply priest. At home, we have had to deal with a bit of Family Drama, but it has been resolved for the present (we hope). We erected the Christmas tree in the living room, but it stands there naked, waiting for us to have time to trim it. Perhaps this weekend. I finally remembered I had not ordered a wreath for the front door, so belatedly did that yesterday. So Advent has begun with a series of half-gestures, offhandedly