Over the last two weeks, the words describing the themes of Advent stirred my spirit. As the worship leaders shared their reflections on hope and peace, my breathing slowed and I could sense tears welling up in my eyes. “Yes,” I admitted to myself, “that is what I’m desperately in need of right now.”

It is ironic, however, that I begrudgingly come to accept how important slowing down is. Not only is it something that we tell congregations often as members of your regional staff, but it is an essential element to this liturgical season. As we rush to decorate, organize holiday plans, craft dinner menus, purchase gifts, and bake cookies. It is important that we recognize that the earth and several of the holidays that are celebrated in this season beckon us to slow down. To pause, to take a deep breath, to catch a glimmer of hope and peace among us.

In this season of waiting, when the what is and what can be are explicitly acknowledged, I return to the central teaching of our faith: Love. While lofty, love is imperative in our communities. It is not only an idea, but it is a core theological practice in its expression as covenant-keeping. It is a way of showing up for ourselves and each other. It reminds us to pause as the cold nights encapsulate us and to tenderly hold one another close as we bring comfort as best we can. It also reminds us, in some ways, if we are honest, how we might need to shift to fill that gap between now and what is to come. That shifting, that practice of covenant, that demonstration of Love takes time. There is no rush to fulfill it, to get it just right in all the respectable ways; there is only the eternal ask that we practice. We are only asked in this season that we slow down, pause as best we can, and create space for how we might shift as we wait and watch for the next glorious moment when Love makes itself known.

And so I ask you, how might you pause and wait for Love in this season?

Dear Ones, as we enter more fully into this overtly sacred time, I offer this prayer:

Blessed Spirit of Life, 
You who are the whisper upon the wind and the stillness brought by shadow. 
As we kindle our sacred flames in this season, may we pause and wait. 
And in so doing, might we practice making space for that which is to come: 
Love made known in all of its beautiful forms — you, me, us.