Plans set aside. This is Advent, too.
We can forget this truth amid cute countdowns and Christmas cheer coming. A baby to be born! A world to save! What greater gift?
But behind this tremendous opening lies a quiet path, closing behind. The dreams that could not be, not alongside this present way.
Whatever Mary had pictured. Whatever Joseph had planned. Whatever their families wished, their friends expected, or their neighbors assumed. All of it had to be placed to the side, whether kicked to the curb or left with longing care.
A new life was waiting to be born, bursting wider and wilder than anything they could have imagined. But each had to leave behind other visions to embrace what God asked.
We sit on the other side of the story, centuries later, smiling knowingly. She'll say yes to the angel. He'll rise ready from the dream. Mysterious visitors will bring wonders.
But we forget the darker side. The terror behind the eyes, the drowning doubt in the night, the fear of the future, the anxiety for safety, the threat to their own lives.
This chosen way demanded trust. Every moment was not bathed in gentle glowing light. Each chapter of the story was still unfolding, not already written. Their family had to leave home, fleeing the familiar again and again, until they returned, changed.
Think about the yes that each one gave, the hard that made them holy. Look at your own life, too. What you have set aside to seek the True.
Other versions of you—the might-have-beens, the if-onlys—cannot coexist alongside this one. You made choices or found yourself within circumstances that closed doors. You cannot go back. You cannot become everything you once dreamed.
But what you leave behind makes this life possible. This particular and pressing, real and rocky reality you have been asked to accept, with contours shaped by choice or constraint. This is the life you are living, not another.
Whatever way is opening, wherever you are asked to follow—a new way never starts without stepping off the path. And leaving another way behind.
This Advent I’ve been thinking about doors closed. Literally, since so many millions of us are staying at home, not welcoming friends and family with the usual celebrations.
But also the paths that we could not take this year. Opportunities missed. Jobs lost. Celebrations canceled. Loved ones gone. Grief upon grief upon grief.
What does it mean to hold all this in Advent? In a dark December as the days grow shorter? Here are a few good reads for the shadow side of this holy season.
My friend Mytae wrote powerfully about losing her father and grieving years later.
Five writers reflect for the Christian Century on how to honor the staggering numbers who have died during the pandemic.
A striking perspective on suffering and post-election encounter from María Teresa Dávila: I’ll meet you at the cross.
I shared this post on grief with Blessed Is She. What a trip back in time, to remember those early weeks and months in the dark—and the hope that crept in through cracks.
And this piece for Grotto Network about 4 ways to carry the grief we’re all holding right now, big or small.
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT:
If you’re still looking for Christmas gifts, I’d love to send a few books your way. Usually I sell books when I speak at conferences and events. But this year I’ve only presented virtually, so I have a heap of books waiting to find homes.
Thanks to many of you on Instagram and Facebook, we shipped lots of books out this week—but I’ve still got more if you’d like one for yourself or a gift.
Learn more about each book here, and hit reply if you’d like to place an order.
I’ll send you my Venmo/PayPal and sign it for whomever you’d like—you, too!
You get a discounted rate + free shipping because we don’t need to give Jeff Bezos any more trillions:
Everyday Sacrament: The Messy Grace of Parenting - $14
Living Your Discipleship: 7 Ways to Express Your Deepest Calling - $12
Grieving Together: A Couple's Journey through Miscarriage - $14
To Bless Our Callings: Prayers, Poems, and Hymns to Celebrate Vocation - $20
Scripture Studies - Grief, Dashed Hopes, or Mercy - $7 each
Thank you for your support of my writing! May your holidays be filled with happy reading.
Peace,
Laura
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Find my books here: Everyday Sacrament | Grieving Together | Prayers for Pregnancy & Birth | To Bless Our Callings | Living Your Discipleship
We've just had our third miscarriage in two years (and we have four living daughters), among myriad other challenges) and when I meditate on the Joyful Mysteries in the Rosary, all I feel is the anxiety and fear of the unknown that Mary was embarking on. Thank you for this beautiful image of Jesus in the boat with me through the storm. (And thank you for "Grieving Together," which introduced me to you).