Thoughts on The First Week of Advent ~ Thoughts on Hope

Hope

How does hope survive during days of

broken 

promises,

broken dreams,

broken lives?

How does hope survive when all we see are

broken people?

How do we hope to survive when we are the 

broken ones?

When we are the 

broken people?

In our brokenness,

we promise ourselves that we will 

do better, 

be better, 

make things better.

We never do.

We never can.

We are broken.

How can we make things better?

We hear the promises of others when they say they will

do better,

be better,

make things better.

Hope.

We hope for better

health,

friendships,

relationships,

family dynamics,

places to live,

jobs,

grades,

educational opportunities.

We hope for better outcomes

in encounters with others,

in sports events,

medical tests,

test scores in the classroom.

We long for things to be as they should be.

We hope that one whom

upsets us, 

disappoints us,

ignores us,

won’t speak to us,

lies to us,

steals from us,

uses us,

hurts us,

will see the error of his or her ways

 and 

do better,

be better,

make things better.

Hope.

Oh, hope can seem like such an empty word when promises are broken.

We want to scream to the promise breaker,

“That promise you made to me was broken.

Do I even dare to trust you again?”

You broke my heart.

You broke my trust.

You have left me broken.

We ask ourselves, 

“How can I even begin to fix a broken dream?”

We ask others,

 the ones whom have shattered our hearts, 

broken our trust,

“How do you plan to fix my heart, the one you shattered?”

“How will you fix the trust you have broken?”

Dreams have a quality about them that deems them unbreakable.

Who would ever dream of broken dreams?

When one dreams, one dreams that the dream will never be broken.

Broken dreams.

Broken lives.

We pass them on the street.

We see broken lives with outstretched hands as we walk pass them on the street

where they stand on street corners,

with signs that say,

“Hungry.”

“Anything helps.”

Broken people.

They sit with me at the Thanksgiving table.

 They call me on the phone.

They are my people.

I am one of them.

I too am broken.

I am also a fixer.

I want to fix every broken thing.

I do not want to toss anything aside that I think can be fixed.

I want every relationship to be fixed.

I want every heart to be mended.

I want every heart repaired.

I can fix nothing because

I

too

am 

broken.

Where does this leave me?

Where do I go from here?

Like David, I cry out,

Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.

I am filled with longing for all things to be made right.

I can’t make things right for myself or for others.

I need a redeemer,

A savior.

 I don’t want to lose hope.

Hope, it cannot be placed in me or in others.

I am hopeless.

I can’t be the one in whom you place your hope.

I too am broken.

None of us can

do better,

be better,

make things better,

because all of us are broken.

Where is that Rock whom is higher than I?

Where is the anchor for 

my life,

my soul?

To that Rock I want to cling.

Without that Rock,

I too would be like those of old,

those whom passed through the land distressed and hungry,

and when they were hungry, they were enraged and spoke contemptuously against their king and their God.

They looked to the earth, but all they saw was distress, darkness and gloom of anguish.

They were thrust into thick darkness.*

There was no hope.

There is no hope.

The longing for hope.

The longing for One higher than I.

The longing for a Rock to which I can cling is the longing of our hearts.

We groan inwardly with all creation waiting for redemption. **

We long for hope.

We long for Advent.

The coming.

Advent is now.

It is upon us.

On the first Sunday of Advent we are given hope.

“The people who walked in darkness

Have seen a great light;

Those who dwelt in deep darkness,

On them has light shone. ***

Jesus,

The child is born,

The son is given to us. ****

He, this child, is our hope.

In my brokenness,

my longing for all things to be made right,

in my longing 

for healing of 

bodies,

minds,

relationships,

I know of no other

Healer,

Restorer,

Giver of Peace,

Except the One called

Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. *****

Jesus,

The Word made flesh dwelt among us. ******

He restores our hope and renews our hearts and minds.

He binds up our wounds.

I hope in Him.

He is my hope.

He is the Rock higher than I.

I will look to Him.  

I will hold fast to my confession of hope without wavering,

For he who promised is faithful.

In this season I don’t want to miss the greatest gift of all.

Jesus.

He is my hope.

I don’t have to hope in others, 

in dreams, 

in hopes that I have created in my own mind, 

that I hope to achieve in my own strength.

I have the hope the world long awaited,

The longing of every broken heart,

Jesus.

Yes, 

He alone is my hope.

*Isaiah 8:21-22

**Romans 8:22

***Isaiah 9:2

****Isaiah 9:6

*****Isaiah 9:6

******John 1:14

*The photos of the stained glass window were taken in the old United Presbyterian Church in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where I grew up. As a child, I was always fascinated by these windows and have so many fond memories of listening to sermons, praying, singing hymns, and listening to my mother’s beautiful soprano voice sing beautiful solos while I pondered the beauty of it all.

Seasonal Thoughts and Thanksgivings

The seasons collide in the fall.

Halloween gives way to Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving bumps up against Christmas.

November,

I’m not done with you yet.

I need to hang on the last vestiges of 

fall and the Thanksgiving season

 before I am hurled into the rush and bustle 

of December and Christmas.

*************

My son called early in October and asked us to come out and spend Thanksgiving with them in Utah. I took him up on the offer.  They have a new home we had not yet seen, so we were excited to spend the inaugural Thanksgiving with them making new memories in their new home.  

On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Jim and I flew out to Salt Lake City, Utah, and my son Ryan picked us up at the airport.  We ran around town with him while he did Thanksgiving preparation errands, and he gave us a grand tour of his new neighborhood.  I so seldom get to spend alone time with my son, that I couldn’t help but comment how wonderful it was just to be driving around town with him while we chatted.  He always makes the best of times even better.

Fall is the perfect season to capture the beauty of my son and daughter-in-law’s new home.  A branch adorned with golden leaves formed a perfect frame for this classic craftsman style home. 

I love the neighborhood where my son and his wife now live.  On a small porch at the corner house down the street from them, two college age guys dressed in wool coats and wool caps were sitting in lawn chairs listening to classical music and smoking cigars as they played chess.  I said to my son, “I love where you live.  It seems so civilized.”

Jim and Ryan led the way as we walked past houses still adorned with fall decor and headed to our home away from home to spend a quiet evening together.  

Our airbnb, which was just a block and a half from my son’s home, was so nice.  We really enjoyed the experience of staying in this home and in this neighborhood.  I kept telling my husband I was ready to move.  I loved the area around Sugarhouse in Salt Lake City.  

This was just one of the cool houses between our house (home away from home) and son Ryan’s.  

The next morning Jim and I walked back to Ryan and Sheridan's house and the four of us and Sheridan’s two boys headed out for the mile and a half walk to get breakfast at the best bakery ever.  I had their steel cut oats with fruit.  Seldom does one rave about steel cut oats, but I raved about theirs.  Oh, and I had part of an orange cinnamon roll too.  I wasn’t going to pass that up.  I fear we would visit this place on  daily walks if we lived nearby.

There are shops all around the bakery.  Across the street is a wonderful bookstore called The King’s English.  We visited it on the day after Thanksgiving.  All of this makes the neighborhood a desired location for living a life where shopping, and restaurants, and grocery stores are just a short walk or bike ride away.

The door to our apartment...

leaves on the ground, they all became subjects for me to photograph.  On this beautiful fall day, I so loved the experience of walking around taking in the sights found in a neighborhood filled with architectural delights.  It was just what my soul needed.  

At home, fall had left us during a blistery and wet storm weeks before Thanksgiving.  I had not been able to revel in the glory of fall and give her a proper farewell at home, so these last days of November in Utah were a special blessing to me.

Thanksgiving Eve, Jim and I walked over to my son’s house to participate in food preparation (ok, I watched while they worked) and to await the arrival of Amy and Jewett whom were driving from Colorado, and the arrival of grandson Bridger whom was coming down from Logan, Utah, where he attends Utah State.  

The beauty of the day continued.  I wish I could have captured the full effect of the moon at dusk, but this photo does give you an idea of how beautiful the evening was as we headed into my favorite holiday of the year: Thanksgiving.

We were worried about the travelers as a huge wreck had closed down the highway, but daughter and her love arrived safe and sound at a much later time than anticipated.  Thank heavens for cell phones and Google maps.  Bridger also arrived safe and sound from his drive down from Logan.  I was struck by how thrilled we were when Bridger arrived.  Does everyone always shout with joy when he enters a room?  I think so.  He is such a special kid.

The bounty for the planned feast was plentiful. I was struck by the beauty of the preparation of the meal itself.  Part of Thanksgiving is the anticipation of what is about to transpire as family comes together.  There is so much work in preparing the feast for a family the size of ours.  I so appreciate all that Ryan and Sheridan did to make the occasion perfect.  Thank you, Ryan and Sheridan!

While my family is large, the gathering itself was a bit smaller this year.  Ryan’s two older children, Regan and Parker, are living and working in Montana where they will be attending college, so they did not come home for Thanksgiving.  Amy and Jewett came from Colorado, but Amy’s two children stayed home with their father and had Thanksgiving with their other grandmother, and Samantha and Jonathan and their two children had been in Paris, France, the week before Thanksgiving and they were flying home to Colorado on Thanksgiving Day.  As with most large families, we are scattered all over.  That is why being together whenever possible is so special.

Thanksgiving morning, the house had been transformed in order to accommodate the expected guests.  (Don’t you love Ryan and Sheridan’s home???)

The guests arrived, photos were taken,and soon we were ready to eat the scrumptious meal provided by our hosts.  Really, they out did themselves.  Everything was perfect!

Photos were taken,

Daughter Keicha with her daughter Gillian

Amy & Jewett

My girls on either side of me

Keicha, Sally, Amy

the turkey was taken from the oven and carved,

the lentil loaf prepared for and by Sheridan for the vegetarians in the group was also taken from the oven,

the food was placed on the beautiful tables, 

Holidays bring with them memories both happy and sad.  Often, we are reminded of those no longer with us.  Sheridan was my daughter Julie's dear friend, and it was at Julie's memorial service where my son Ryan met our lovely Sheridan.  Blessings come from loss.  I'm so grateful for the family that was created because of a lasting and long friendship between Julie and Sheridan.  Julie's ashes are on the mantle and the empty chair reminds us of the one we miss and wish were with us to share in this joyous day.  

The empty chair reminds me that Julie would not be in it even if she were with us.  She had way too much energy for that.  She would be cooking and cleaning and arranging, and laughing, and joking, and loving on her nieces and nephews.  I miss her arm on my shoulder as she would have stood beside me in a photo of me and my daughters, but her spirit is with us.  I rejoice that we as a family remain strong and together and so appreciative of fall days at the end of November when we gather together to give thanks for all of our many blessings.  

There was more!  

In the evening we followed the tradition started long ago by Sheridan's wonderful dad by playing a spirited and competitive game of bingo.  The prizes were both great and not so great.  That is part of the fun.  Bingo and Thanksgiving pie now go together in my mind. 

 I love this tradition of more guests arriving in the evening with pies and gifts.  Sheridan's sister and her family and her mom and dad and another couple whom are good friends came to the house to play bingo after their own Thanksgiving dinners.  There was barely room to move around.  Jim was schooled on how to be the Bingo game caller, and we ended the day by playing Bingo which led to much fun and a lot of laughter.  

The memories of Thanksgiving 2018 are stored away in that place were all that is wonderful about this holiday live.  I am so very blessed with such a dear and wonderful family.  My children are so supportive of me and of each other.  I do not take that gift of family unity lightly.  Our bonds are strong and our devotion to each other is firm.  That is one hope I have always had for myself and and my children:  that we would celebrate and embrace the uniqueness that each of us bring to our family bond and they would seek to always build and affirm that bond and devotion to each other.  I'm so very grateful that again I witnessed and partook in the fellowship of a family devoted to each other.    My heart is full.

Perhaps, Thanksgiving comes at the perfect time of year because just as fall leaves us, we are given the chance to embrace her beauty one last time as we gather to spend a day giving thanks while eating delicious food with those we love best.  

Thanksgiving 2018, I needed you to be just as you were.  Now, I can let November days give way to the hustle and bustle that comes in December.