This is my comfort in my trouble,
that your promise gives me life.
Psalm 119:50

I pull my sweater more tightly around me to ward off the chill. Maybe if I wasn’t sitting right next to the window, I’d feel warmer. But I like where I am, my usual seat, from which I take in the familiar surroundings. The crèche in which Mary and Joseph have arrived, but baby Jesus is yet to make an appearance. The tree with its lights, perhaps needing a few more ornaments to be complete. The Advent wreath with a fourth candle yet to be lit.

The preparations and the traditions are familiar, and I pull them closer too, warding off the violence and suffering in the world. Sometimes my heart aches in protest that I should live in such troubled times. And this causes me to remember any number of times and troubles in which humanity has inflicted devastation. I fling a prayer to God to transform my ache into fierce hope, and my fierce hope into right action.

The wooden Mary and Joseph in the crèche wait for the final figure to complete the scene. Once, that baby arrived, at-risk and vulnerable, and poured healing over devastation and indignity. Now, I also await the completion of redemption. The promised savior of us all is promised still.