Hello My Friends!
Today is Saturday, 11/30/19. Tomorrow is December 1st. The first day in Advent.
Advent has always been my favorite time of the year. Even before I knew the meaning of Advent! And even when I learned about Advent, it was in the context of the Liturgical year of the Christian church. My understanding of Advent was centered around the concept of waiting. The people were waiting in darkness to be saved by Christ, the light of the world.
"The word “Advent” is derived from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming,” which is a translation of the Greek word parousia. Scholars believe that during the 4th and 5th centuries in Spain and Gaul, Advent was a season of preparation for the baptism of new Christians at the January feast of Epiphany, the celebration of God’s incarnation represented by the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus (Matthew 2:1), his baptism in the Jordan River by John the Baptist (John 1:29), and his first miracle at Cana (John 2:1). During this season of preparation, Christians would spend 40 days in penance, prayer, and fasting to prepare for this celebration; originally, there was little connection between Advent and Christmas.
By the 6th century, however, Roman Christians had tied Advent to the coming of Christ. But the “coming” they had in mind was not Christ’s first coming in the manger in Bethlehem, but his second coming in the clouds as the judge of the world. It was not until the Middle Ages that the Advent season was explicitly linked to Christ’s first coming at Christmas."
(https://www.christianity.com/christian-life/christmas/what-is-advent.html )
The past week has been filled with joy, but also mixed with sadness and a feeling of impending doom. I have been fighting to stay floating on the surface. To remain positive, in the moment and strong.
You see, this year, I am waiting in the darkness. My son will go to prison on December 5th. For 13 months.
My father, at our family dinner last week asked him if he was indeed going "to the joint" as my son was giving him an arm to lean on as he walked slowly to his car. My father suffered a stroke several years ago and since has been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. He is usually nonverbal. But he is actually thriving under my mother's care.
Still, we do not know how long he will be with us. So when he told my son, "You will be fine. I will see you when you get out", we all shed a tear.
13 months will go by. It is not the sentence we were hoping for, but it could have been much worse.
My father, however is imprisoned in his deteriorating body. His mind is still intact. But movement, and sometimes even talking can be painful.
My son will serve his sentence. And hopefully it will strengthen his character. But my father will continue to decline. Slowly, we hope. And we hope that we will all be here when my son emerges
from the darkness into the light.
That day, after my son told us my father's words, he told us that he is feeling positive. He said, "I am looking forward to beginning my sentence, so I can put this behind me!"
I hugged him. I felt a well of love and pride that went deep into my motherly soul.
And at dinner, as we all went around the table and shared what we were thankful for, my son proclaimed, "I am thankful Jesus died on the cross for me and for my family, especially my new son".
Oh, it is so bittersweet to see someone we love suffer trials and overcome.
It must be similar to what our Heavenly Father feels as He watches us flounder around in our mortal existence.
Speaking of which, I am playing the piano at a Saturday Mass today. A new church. I am going in early to go over the music with the cantor.
Tomorrow is my regular church job.
I went to Chinese food for lunch today. My fortune read: "The man who rows the boat doesn't have time to rock it"!
And it reminded me that I was practicing being present in the moment, focusing on my work and being busy enough to not dwell on my anxieties.
I will be praying more. I will hopefully be blogging more. Because, as I've shared in the past, it helps me to get the weight of my brain onto the paper, or in this case, a computer screen.
If you are a praying sort, please pray for my son, his baby boy, his fiance, her mother, and all who are incarcerated that they be treated with respect and dignity. And please, I ask humbly if you can pray for a me. A mother who is feeling the suffering of her son. And who needs to remain strong and positive or else fear I may crumble!
On that note, I have to run and play a church service.
Tomorrow starts day 1 of the 6th month of intermittent fasting. It is working well for me.
Happy Saturday!
Peace,
Zita
Today is Saturday, 11/30/19. Tomorrow is December 1st. The first day in Advent.
Advent has always been my favorite time of the year. Even before I knew the meaning of Advent! And even when I learned about Advent, it was in the context of the Liturgical year of the Christian church. My understanding of Advent was centered around the concept of waiting. The people were waiting in darkness to be saved by Christ, the light of the world.
"The people who walked in darkness
Have seen a great light;
Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death,
Upon them a light has shined."(Isaiah 9:2; NKJV)
Have seen a great light;
Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death,
Upon them a light has shined."(Isaiah 9:2; NKJV)
As I come to understand myself more and more, it makes sense that I connected with Advent in this sense. Because I have always craved the darkness. Not dark, in terms of evil, or absence of light. But perhaps since I have always felt more energized at night, or on cloudy, rainy days and drained by hot, sunny days, I feel safer at night.
I have always been an odd duck. But comfort to me, is curled up in a safe, warm place at night, with a book, a hot cup of tea, a blanket and perhaps a warm pet curled up at my feet.
But the word Advent does not, after all mean "waiting". It means coming. Here is what I found on Christianity. com:
"The word “Advent” is derived from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming,” which is a translation of the Greek word parousia. Scholars believe that during the 4th and 5th centuries in Spain and Gaul, Advent was a season of preparation for the baptism of new Christians at the January feast of Epiphany, the celebration of God’s incarnation represented by the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus (Matthew 2:1), his baptism in the Jordan River by John the Baptist (John 1:29), and his first miracle at Cana (John 2:1). During this season of preparation, Christians would spend 40 days in penance, prayer, and fasting to prepare for this celebration; originally, there was little connection between Advent and Christmas.
By the 6th century, however, Roman Christians had tied Advent to the coming of Christ. But the “coming” they had in mind was not Christ’s first coming in the manger in Bethlehem, but his second coming in the clouds as the judge of the world. It was not until the Middle Ages that the Advent season was explicitly linked to Christ’s first coming at Christmas."
(https://www.christianity.com/christian-life/christmas/what-is-advent.html )
The past week has been filled with joy, but also mixed with sadness and a feeling of impending doom. I have been fighting to stay floating on the surface. To remain positive, in the moment and strong.
You see, this year, I am waiting in the darkness. My son will go to prison on December 5th. For 13 months.
My father, at our family dinner last week asked him if he was indeed going "to the joint" as my son was giving him an arm to lean on as he walked slowly to his car. My father suffered a stroke several years ago and since has been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. He is usually nonverbal. But he is actually thriving under my mother's care.
Still, we do not know how long he will be with us. So when he told my son, "You will be fine. I will see you when you get out", we all shed a tear.
13 months will go by. It is not the sentence we were hoping for, but it could have been much worse.
My father, however is imprisoned in his deteriorating body. His mind is still intact. But movement, and sometimes even talking can be painful.
My son will serve his sentence. And hopefully it will strengthen his character. But my father will continue to decline. Slowly, we hope. And we hope that we will all be here when my son emerges
from the darkness into the light.
That day, after my son told us my father's words, he told us that he is feeling positive. He said, "I am looking forward to beginning my sentence, so I can put this behind me!"
I hugged him. I felt a well of love and pride that went deep into my motherly soul.
And at dinner, as we all went around the table and shared what we were thankful for, my son proclaimed, "I am thankful Jesus died on the cross for me and for my family, especially my new son".
Oh, it is so bittersweet to see someone we love suffer trials and overcome.
It must be similar to what our Heavenly Father feels as He watches us flounder around in our mortal existence.
Speaking of which, I am playing the piano at a Saturday Mass today. A new church. I am going in early to go over the music with the cantor.
Tomorrow is my regular church job.
I went to Chinese food for lunch today. My fortune read: "The man who rows the boat doesn't have time to rock it"!
And it reminded me that I was practicing being present in the moment, focusing on my work and being busy enough to not dwell on my anxieties.
I will be praying more. I will hopefully be blogging more. Because, as I've shared in the past, it helps me to get the weight of my brain onto the paper, or in this case, a computer screen.
If you are a praying sort, please pray for my son, his baby boy, his fiance, her mother, and all who are incarcerated that they be treated with respect and dignity. And please, I ask humbly if you can pray for a me. A mother who is feeling the suffering of her son. And who needs to remain strong and positive or else fear I may crumble!
On that note, I have to run and play a church service.
Tomorrow starts day 1 of the 6th month of intermittent fasting. It is working well for me.
Happy Saturday!
Peace,
Zita
Comments
Post a Comment