I love Advent. I love the colors, the smells, the sounds, the decorations and the liturgy. In 2002 Advent's meaning deepened for me as Philip and I were married on that third weekend of the season - my parents lit the Advent wreath as part of the worship service and we began our marriage with a sense of hope and anticipation of good things to come. Its meaning deepened further in 2004 as I carried our first child during the season and identified with Mary in a whole new way. I'll never forget being part of the Mt. Pleasant Presbyterian Church Christmas Eve worship service and my reading, which we drew blindly, was the passage about Mary being great with child and it resonated in my bones as it never had before. This year, Advent has another layer of meaning - we're anticipating being with our families in person for the first time since August and I feel anticipation in my bones in a new way! What's funny is that Advent, despite my eagerness to be with those I know and who know me best, has had an undercurrent of melancholy this year. I don't know if its the fact that its quieter this year for our family - that we're participating in Advent instead of helping choreograph it - or if the fact that our context has totally changed and has made my perspective on everything new. I haven't been able to articulate it or wrap my head around it so, this morning, after dropping the kids at school I went to the water - as I often do when there are thoughts that need sorting out. And as I walked onto the seawall at the usually peaceful and calm English Bay, it was clear that nature understood my mood. For today is the first that sun has truly broken through completely in some time, but today, the wind is fierce and the Bay was dotted with white caps sending seaspray vaulting over the seawall. It was as if the sea was telling me that Advent, indeed, is a holy mess.
This melancholy 'blue' undercurrent is born of grief I think. Selfishly I grieve the loss of my naïve childhood sense of the Christmas carol, candy cane laden experience of Advent. I grieve with and for friends who are entering this season in a new way this year - for their first time without one of their parents at the table, with a new diagnosis, as a single parent for the first time in years or as one who longs for parenthood to be part of their reality. All these 'new normals' aren't easy - they aren't the most wonderful time of the year. And that's really hard - but that choppy Bay this morning showed me that new normals are exactly what this season is about. For as I walked on that seawall that I'd never seen in this way before, I realized that the sunshine broke through the clouds to illuminate the mess - to wake us up to it so that the mess could be redeemed. And my understanding of this dichotomy of moods began to unfold.
My mom received a plaque as a gift when we were expecting that reads, "Babies are such a nice way to start people" and that rang through my head as I walked along that windy, light-filled, messy wall. Jesus broke through in the nicest way possible - He came as a baby - with no fanfare, no giant crowds. He needed to be loved and tended and I have to believe he brought out the best in everyone who saw Him that first Christmas. And I've always skipped from that holy night in the stable to Jesus in the temple, and then with the disciples doing ministry together, but today, I realized that when I do that I miss out on so very much of the story. Jesus grew - he had to learn to walk, he had to learn to talk, he made friends and he played. Jesus probably reached out to the new kids in his town/synagogue and I'm grateful for the young people who've served in that way for my children this year. Jesus walked with friends who found themselves in new circumstances. Jesus came into the world in a relational way and spent His life building relationships so that we may look back and see how Light broke in to illuminate the mess so it may be redeemed.
This year, not only does my understanding of Advent's anticipation have new meaning, but my understanding of the need for the Incarnation and the hope that Jesus will return has new meaning. For the day will come when we're all made whole again and peace is restored and the melancholy undercurrent will be no more. For Light will break in and illuminate our messes that they may all be redeemed and for that I'm grateful.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Fire Trucks and Snowflakes
Sunday is often seen as a day of Sabbath - rest. Our Sunday, however, was far from it. Seeing that our children were exhausted and needing some good introvert time, we chose to stay home from church and ease into the day. We all were ready for a change of scenery when we left for our adventure to Costco - an adventure we'd last endeavored right after moving here (translation: we were going to be replacing a lot of staples and would be coming home with more than a few bags). Now our family never does Costco in a small way - not that many people do - and Sunday was no different. We meandered through the aisles, dodging other carts [since most of downtown Vancouver seemed to have had the same idea we did and was also at Costco]. We made our obligatory trek down the 'Christmas toy' aisle and repeatedly said, "No we're not going to get that today" and "It's too close to Christmas to buy any toys" and "STOP ASKING FOR STUFF THE ANSWER IS NO". You get the point. By the time we'd made it to refrigerated food it was getting ugly - we'd reached the point of threatening to call Santa to ask that he skip our place this year and even that wasn't working. Nonetheless, the string cheese was a lot cheaper, the chicken too and we finally queued up to pay. Once we found ourselves safely back in the car we thought we were in the clear.
As we rolled up to our apartment building it became obvious we were far from in the clear. It's never a good thing to see fire trucks parked in front of where you live and the fact that there were two smack in front of our high rise was not a welcome sight. It was, however, obvious to Philip and me [since we're fire experts and all] that all was fine, so we proceeded to drive to our parking spot. As we wound down to our assigned stall - 3 floors below the lobby - it dawned on me that our trunk was F-U-L-L of our Costco purchases and the elevators were likely OUT OF ORDER since there were firemen all over the place. After trying to calm our very anxious children who weren't as convinced that there wasn't a real issue, we came up with a plan. We'd haul the perishables up to the lobby, get the full report and head for home. Thankfully (for our chicken and ground beef's sake) it's been unusually chilly in Vancouver the past few days so I left the meat outside after we climbed the 3 levels to our ground floor lobby. We visited with the firemen and discovered that someone (whom I hope remains anonymous for their own sake, bless their heart) on the 24th floor had been cooking and it went awry. Instead of opening the door or windows to the outside of the building, they opened their apartment door which led to the hallway and that's all it took. Hallway smoke detector screaming equals sirens blazing in response and, might I add, non-functioning elevators until the alarm system is reset. We hung out in the lobby for 20 minutes or so - the kids having quite a fun time checking out the axes and fire hoses strapped to the firemen's bodies - and we then decided it was time to head upstairs. Now it shouldn't have been all that daunting, except hauling an additional 15-20 pounds in bags digging into your fingers up 9 more flights of stairs makes anything daunting. We didn't even ask Henry & Lydia to carry anything but themselves - the hour and a half in Costco had already almost done them in and Philip and I weren't up for the nagging that would be required if we added to their load. So we went - and I'm proud to say we only stopped once for a breather and to adjust the knife-like bags that were about to dismember our hands. The elevators were restored to their normal function within an hour or so and non-perishable items made it into our home. The whole situation did, however, make me grateful NOT to live in the penthouse on the 31st floor - that trek would've been hellish. [Note: there are no photos as both cell phones and all cameras were in the apartment during this whole ordeal.]
As if fire trucks greeting you on Sunday wasn't enough of an adventure, we awoke to a snowy morn on Monday! Snow here in downtown Vancouver is akin to snow in SC. It rarely happens, so when it does, it's a big deal. There are several differences tho - the first of which is that school goes on as planned. When your entire (almost) student population can/does walk to school each day and there are no school busses that transport kids to their place of learning, snow's just a little extra decoration for the day. It was magical, really, to walk to school in the snow and it felt just a little more like Christmas-time. We only had a dusting as we made our way the 8-9 blocks to Lord Roberts, but it was just enough to leave footprints and make grates a little slippery as we pretended to ice skate our way along the roads.
I came home to ironing and left the TV and radio off as I just looked out the window - it's funny how snow makes everything look a tad more special and how its falling has a calming effect. Then it dawned on me! We were in the midst of a snow event and I needed some groceries - what if the dreaded run on milk and bread had beaten me and we were going to be without those two random staples for the duration of our smattering of snowflakes? Off to the store I went, smiling to myself as I pulled my snazzy purple cart behind me with the white flecks dancing around me. LO AND BEHOLD - the milk/bread disappearing act is something we Southerners can claim as uniquely our own, I do believe! There was bread to be had by the car loads and plenty of milk to boot. In fact, it looked as if grocery shopping saw absolutely no change from its norm because of this bizarre weather. Relief. Sandwiches could still be had in the Marcum household.
I picked up the kids - in no hurry to return because of the grocery cart - the outdoors were a fine refrigerator. We stayed at the playground almost an hour - our dusting had become almost groundcover by then and soccer is apparently much more fun in the snow. Once Lydia started slipping on the playground equipment it was clearly time to call it a day and we headed home for hot cocoa. We enjoyed another snowy day on Tuesday and, much like SC, the ground is back to its normal state today. It's been a week of extremes - from fire trucks to snow showers - but it's been a fun one and it's only Wednesday! I pray the sense of wonder I shared with my children this week never dulls and that it grows as life continues to unfold.
As we rolled up to our apartment building it became obvious we were far from in the clear. It's never a good thing to see fire trucks parked in front of where you live and the fact that there were two smack in front of our high rise was not a welcome sight. It was, however, obvious to Philip and me [since we're fire experts and all] that all was fine, so we proceeded to drive to our parking spot. As we wound down to our assigned stall - 3 floors below the lobby - it dawned on me that our trunk was F-U-L-L of our Costco purchases and the elevators were likely OUT OF ORDER since there were firemen all over the place. After trying to calm our very anxious children who weren't as convinced that there wasn't a real issue, we came up with a plan. We'd haul the perishables up to the lobby, get the full report and head for home. Thankfully (for our chicken and ground beef's sake) it's been unusually chilly in Vancouver the past few days so I left the meat outside after we climbed the 3 levels to our ground floor lobby. We visited with the firemen and discovered that someone (whom I hope remains anonymous for their own sake, bless their heart) on the 24th floor had been cooking and it went awry. Instead of opening the door or windows to the outside of the building, they opened their apartment door which led to the hallway and that's all it took. Hallway smoke detector screaming equals sirens blazing in response and, might I add, non-functioning elevators until the alarm system is reset. We hung out in the lobby for 20 minutes or so - the kids having quite a fun time checking out the axes and fire hoses strapped to the firemen's bodies - and we then decided it was time to head upstairs. Now it shouldn't have been all that daunting, except hauling an additional 15-20 pounds in bags digging into your fingers up 9 more flights of stairs makes anything daunting. We didn't even ask Henry & Lydia to carry anything but themselves - the hour and a half in Costco had already almost done them in and Philip and I weren't up for the nagging that would be required if we added to their load. So we went - and I'm proud to say we only stopped once for a breather and to adjust the knife-like bags that were about to dismember our hands. The elevators were restored to their normal function within an hour or so and non-perishable items made it into our home. The whole situation did, however, make me grateful NOT to live in the penthouse on the 31st floor - that trek would've been hellish. [Note: there are no photos as both cell phones and all cameras were in the apartment during this whole ordeal.]
As if fire trucks greeting you on Sunday wasn't enough of an adventure, we awoke to a snowy morn on Monday! Snow here in downtown Vancouver is akin to snow in SC. It rarely happens, so when it does, it's a big deal. There are several differences tho - the first of which is that school goes on as planned. When your entire (almost) student population can/does walk to school each day and there are no school busses that transport kids to their place of learning, snow's just a little extra decoration for the day. It was magical, really, to walk to school in the snow and it felt just a little more like Christmas-time. We only had a dusting as we made our way the 8-9 blocks to Lord Roberts, but it was just enough to leave footprints and make grates a little slippery as we pretended to ice skate our way along the roads.
The road leading to school - on our way - just a little dusting.
I picked up the kids - in no hurry to return because of the grocery cart - the outdoors were a fine refrigerator. We stayed at the playground almost an hour - our dusting had become almost groundcover by then and soccer is apparently much more fun in the snow. Once Lydia started slipping on the playground equipment it was clearly time to call it a day and we headed home for hot cocoa. We enjoyed another snowy day on Tuesday and, much like SC, the ground is back to its normal state today. It's been a week of extremes - from fire trucks to snow showers - but it's been a fun one and it's only Wednesday! I pray the sense of wonder I shared with my children this week never dulls and that it grows as life continues to unfold.
Henry post-soccer after school
Lydia pre-slipping after school
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