by Ericka Stephens-Rennie

Advent is a season of beginnings.

Of newness. Of first steps, and first phases. Of expectation. Of waiting. I imagine a young Joseph, concerned his wife-to-be may be unfaithful. And not just unfaithful, crazy! Certifiably insane – who gets pregnant from talking to angels, or being “favoured” by God?

But he shows up at her door.

Reluctantly?
In faith? In forgiveness?
In hope?
In trust?

Do you think he held her hand as they started to walk?
I imagine the scene, peeking into a story not mine.
Then again, we’re part of the vine.

The community, the followers, following 2000 years behind,
Opening the story one scene at a time.

For now, we wait.

Advent is a season of beginnings.
Of newness. Of first steps, and first phases. Of expectation. Of waiting. I think of the many I know who are expecting babies of their own.
Beginning families. Preparing to welcome little hands and feet.

Preparing for no sleep.
For chaos. For new love.
For a beginning.
But now, they wait.

I imagine the scene, peeking into a story not mine.
Then again, we’re part of the vine.

The community, the followers, following the story,
Written one scene at a time.

For now, we wait.

Advent is a season of beginnings.
Of newness. Of first steps, and first phases. Of expectation. Of waiting. And also a time of ending. Of last steps, and final phases. Of expectation. Of waiting. I think of those I know who are unsure of what the future holds, counting days until death, knowing healing is out of reach.

Leaving homes.
Lying in beds.
Taking pills, doing what doctor says.
But knowing that this is waiting.

I imagine the scene, peeking into a story not mine.
Then again, we’re part of the vine.

The community, the followers, following the story,
Written one scene at a time.

For now, we wait.

This season is Advent.
It’s beginnings and endings. It’s waiting for birth, and waiting for death. It’s holding in tension the now and the not yet. It’s tears of joy, and tears of sorrow.
This year, I want to welcome God when God shows up at my door.

Willingly.
Faithfully.
In hope.
With trust.

I know this scene, the story is mine.

Then again we’re part of the vine.
The community, the followers, following the story,
Written one scene at a time.

For now, we wait.

Brian Walsh

Brian is an activist theologian, a retired CRC campus minister, the founder of the Wine Before Breakfast community, and farms with Sylvia Keesmaat at Russet House Farm.He engages issues of theology and culture, and has written a couple of books you might want to check out. His most recent offering is cowritten with Sylvia Keesmaat and entitled Romans Disarmed: Resisting Empire, Demanding Justice.