It’s been quiet in this little space for awhile. Part of that is because school (for the kids) and school (for me) and neighborhood things and holidays things and all the things I have to do because I am a person who is not Beyonce (dishes, post office, bill pay, rinse, repeat).
But (a big) part of it, is because my heart has been a little bit quiet lately, too. In our house, we’ve been talking a lot about Mike Brown and Darren Wilson, about indictments and juries, about loose cigarettes and chokeholds. We’ve been talking about it with each other and with just about everyone else that will listen. We’re sad. If we’re being honest, we’re a little angry too. And we’re confused. About where to go from here. How to live in our neighborhood from here. How to teach kids and minister to college students from here.
I don’t have anything wise or eloquent to say about all of this. But I’m thankful that this season is Advent, the time where we celebrate that God’s gift to his messy world was himself. This world is so broken and unfair and confusing, in ways that I can’t even pretend to truly understand.
And yet we believe that there will be a day when this is done, when the weary world rejoices. MLK dreamed about it. In Revelation John promises it. And when we put up our tiny little tree the other day, we hoped for it and begged for it.