Tag Archives: faith

What If: We Took Gender Labels Off of the Divine?

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Yep. We are going there. This is a big one for me that I need to talk about. Today is my birthday, so I am giving myself a gift. There is a glorious freedom that comes with each passing year. While I come across as someone that always speaks their mind, I also want to belong. My primary and consistent place of safe belonging has always been in Christian community. There are many things that I have carefully weighed the cost of confessing in spoken and written word throughout my years. This post is the first of a few where I’m going to use my 4 1/2 decades of life to hold me while I trust my knowing, honest voice to speak.

I know that people don’t agree, and that is ok. Just come sit in my living room any night of the week and you will hear four different perspectives on any given topic. I want to be very clear that I’m not looking for acceptance and agreement on all the things. I am walking into some areas that I have studied and lived and grieved and embraced for decades. In the process, I have met and been in deep friendship with people that are afraid to ask these questions because they know the cost of answering them the “wrong” way. Before I go any further, I am going to be firm on this. My blog will not be a place of shaming or mean spirited hate spewage. This is a place to ask ANY question, and in order to do that we need safety. I will gladly block and delete commentary that is not helpful and loving. You do not have to read anything I post. As a matter of fact, if it is not helpful, please do not. I desire to build a home for those that are looking and can’t seem to find a place to land. That requires us to not have all the answers. Together.

Now, back to the question. There is a dangerous thing that happens when God is labeled by our human words. First of all they are wholly inadequate. Words are representative of one language, culturally derived and hold weight. Unfortunately, when we cross borders and generations and context, words are loaded. They are loaded with assumptions and baggage. They are loaded with delight and disappointment. For instance, say the word dream and some immediately think of Peter Pan while others quickly associate their night terrors. That is the reality of communication insufficiencies.

When we are studying ancient texts that were written in other languages and to other cultures, we give great trust that our 2020 English translations are accurate. Unfortunately, most of us do not do the heavy lifting to understand the detailed nuisance of centuries of translations. Before we go much further, I want to define a few terms. Sex is a biological term. Gender, in contrast, is defined by the World Health Organization as, “the socially constructed characteristics of women and men, such as norms, roles, and relationships of and between groups of women and men. It varies from society to society and can be changed.”

Hebrew (the language that introduces us to God in the Old Testament) is exclusively gendered. For instance a table (shulchan) in Hebrew is masculine while the sun (shemesh) is feminine. This binary reality has lead many faith leaders to use the masculine as the default. At the same time, we see examples throughout scripture where God represents a more female gendered reflection. For instance throughout the Psalms, the images of God as a mothering protector are many.

Because of the connection and association of words and genders, defining God seems impossible. What we know from the text is that from the very beginning of creation, humanity represents the image of the Divine. There is not one gender that is a more “true” reflection. Again, language and gender and cultural norms are completely insufficient for the deep well of hope and love that is God. So why is it that so many people of faith struggle with a gender neutral image of God? If we were to walk into most religious gathering spaces, there would be a gender assignment for the Divine. He, Father and Him are the most common, but this is not exclusive. Even churches that are sensitive to the need for gender neutrality sing songs with masculine language and bristle on the rare occasion there is a feminine pronoun or descriptor for God. While I could go on and on about this subject, those that have had this conversation with me before know that my personal call has long been to depict God in words like Creator, Healer, Divine, Spirit and Comforter. None of these words are exclusive and most importantly for my heart, none of these are easily associated in our culture with a gender.

Let me share one final thought to help you understand the weight of this discussion on people. If there is one thing that stands in our way of trusting and desiring God, it is our mistrust of people. I don’t care how many times that a wise spiritual person has told me that God is not human, they just as quickly assure me that God is represented in every creation – including humanity. So when we use ‘he’ or ‘him’ and even ‘she’ or ‘her’ to give representation to the Divine, we immediately assign humanly associated labels, whether we like it or not. If you have been a victim of incest and your Sunday School teacher prays to Father God, how can you pray? If you were assaulted by your mom when she was drunk on Saturday night, the last thing you want to hear at church is how “she” is holy and just. If you were date raped by your boyfriend, how can you ever trust that “he” is compassionate and able to heal? We cannot divorce our human context from our faith journey. Perhaps this small shift in language could be the open door that allows someone to see that God is not human. God cannot be boxed in. God, in all of God’s greatness is God alone.

What If: Faith is Just an Excuse to Serve Another Agenda?

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I find this to be one of the most fascinating and real questions asked in this process. And while it is a wildly entertaining philosophical conversation, the reality of the truth behind it is terrifying. The reason that we want to ask this question is because we know it happens. We need to look no further than our Twitter feeds to see the way that all good things are hijacked by those that refuse to protect holy and beautiful space.

At the heart of faith is a deep desire for connection. We long to known and be known. We stumble and fall and rise and soar in our efforts to connect. Along the way, both the expressions of religious alignment and the desire for control seep into our ego-centric wiring and distort our pure efforts. Countless times, in countless seasons of leadership, I have watched really great people be blinded by the need and desire to stake their claim not in the pursuit of Divine connection but in authority, positions, causes and security.

The really scary part of this experience is that these movements of human control rarely begin with malicious intent. Often, the gentle lull of right (vs wrong), truth (over deception) and wisdom (above immaturity) is the ignition spark that becomes an idol. Time and again, I have been witness to the working of the great magnifying glass of human ego that fuels a shift from holy pursuit to personal agenda. There is a moment, maybe even unnoticed, when an issue, belief or political gain moves from a spiritual aim/tool to a need for victory and control. This slippery slope is a dangerous, subversive shift. With the power that may have started as a calling, passion or stirring, the use of a spiritual cover often excuses the originator from the criticism and correction of others.

While my personal witness is primarily limited to Protestant Christianity, one needs to look no further than some of the greatest atrocities in history to see this exact situation flourish. While the “biggies” are easy to spot (often in hindsight), the more concerning modern dilemma is being lived out on the pages of our political systems, our denominational divisions and our justice movements. Please don’t mishear me. I believe, with all of my being, in a holistic approach to faith that demands action in the name of truth. What disappoints me most these days, however, is the accepted disconnect with the heart of God and the identified agenda. If you are a follower of the teachings of Jesus, and you hijack his message to give cover to your platform, shame on you. If you have studied the Quran or the Talmud and you are accessing holy truths for your own gain, I call heresy.

Of all of the ways that people of faith twist and distort the sacred for the things of self, this single spiritual misstep is one of the most costly. While many world religions differ on context and pathways, there is a constant thread that resonates throughout time. God is God. And the reason this is vital is the opposite motivation of this question: humility. With as much as I hate to admit this truth, the acceptance of the power and role of the Divine is a leveling, humbling, shaping and ego killing admission of powerlessness. Without this realization, and a constant leaning into the truth of relinquishing of power, we are not living in a posture of release. If there is one thing that I know is vital in the moments of surrender, it is deep desire to pursue the aim of not setting the agenda anymore.

What If: The Devil Doesn’t Even Begin to Describe the Evil of this World?

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The devil. What a fascinating historical and literary image that scholars have passionately pursued for generations in all areas of art. The movies, in particular, offer eerie representations of what happens when human desires reign and a pitchforked, latex wearing red thing wields destruction and demise. In almost every religious expression, we see a representation of evil at work in the world, but in the faith that is rooted in Biblical texts, there is a figure that carries many names (Prince of Darkness, Beelzebub, the Antichrist, Father of Lies, Satan) and has one purpose – destruction.

Recently, I have been watching National Geographic’s The Story of God with Morgan Freeman. This fascinating look at all aspects of faith and religious practice has been a wonderful trip around the world to explore the way that people connect with the Divine. The first episode of season 3 is called “Search for the Devil.” In this episode, we are introduced to many expressions of perceived evil. While the different understandings and approaches to the existence of evil is intellectually fascinating, I find it important to note that there is a universal stream of belief that flows through most religious traditions. Almost without exception, there is a base agreement that there exists in the universe a presence that divides. I often wonder if my attempt to quantify and define the presence of the forces against, have pushed me to once again build a box of “understanding” that fits. The more I explore the “why’s” and “how’s” of my faith life, the more insufficient these boxes feel.

Like many belief structures of the Christian faith, it is fascinating to me the ways that different periods in history had vastly different views the devil. While many people who study the Bible would trace evil to the serpent in the Garden in Genesis, there is actually no mention of the devil in the creation narrative. Interestingly, the Hebrew word that is later translated as devil or Satan, was used to describe the human oppositions to the prophetic work of the Spirit of God in the Old Testament. In the direct translation of the Hebrew, the same word is “the adversary.”

While we can spend an enormous about of energy dissecting and challenging the way the Church has defined evil in the past, I wonder if a more valuable conversation is rooted in our experience of division. If the roots of “evil” and the “devil” are in separation and destruction, we know about those things. We don’t need to define them because we see and feel them every day. There is no doubt in my mind that you and I both know evil: cancer cells dividing to kill, the bullet that flies through an English classroom, the fist that lands on the cheek of a child as a drunk parent rages, the trauma of rape, the bottle of pills that is a siren in the mind of a suicidal teen. These are images that define the desperate and powerful work of adversarial force.

We live in a world that is saturated with a power hungry hierarchal pyramid of inequality and hate. We continually make excuses for the ways that we (YOU and ME) are outside of this norm, and yet each and every one of us are perpetuators of the very divisive nature that scriptures and mystics and shamans and elders teach others to caution. The more I study the devil and the power of evil, the less I care about the definition or the “correct” theological wrapping paper. What I know is that the elements of separation (the very context of evil) are all around, many in ways that we would like to ignore and minimize. What if rather than worrying about the reality of the horns or the talons of the creature, we acknowledged in our spirit that we look evil in the eye everyday – in others and more importantly in ourselves. The only way that I know to drown the voices of hate and division and lies is to first recognize them and call them out, and secondly to breathe (remember our conversation on this subject?) love and healing all over those wounds.

What If: Science Has More Answers than God?

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When I first saw this question pop up on my screen, I immediately thought, well it does. And then I thought about what I just “said.” That’s how these questions become the What If’s, especially for those of us that have the pre-programmed right answer. You know the one that makes you smart and sure and FAITHFUL? That’s the dangerous ledge that I find myself on when I hear questions like this one. I cannot count the number of times that I have been asked a question and my gut, my inner knower, knew the answer that should come out of my mouth, but instead the years of being taught how to answer a question demanded that my lips move in a different direction. So for the record, science DOES have more answers than God.

Here’s why: Science is factual. Science has provable data with clear right and wrong answers. Science produces the same results for every person. Faith, God, humanity’s connection to the Divine…well that is far from scientific. Rarely is it even quantifiable. And even when the moments of measurements are experienced by more than one person, the internal journey to process and bring meaning to the experiences varies as vastly as the hair color of humanity.

For many years, my belief system taught me that the answers to the things of faith were equally as precise. My religious system prided itself on the answers. Those that studied and attained and read and got letters behind and in front of their names were capable of offering the masses the clarity of answers to all of the questions. There were books and courses and studies to learn. There were words to memorize and songs to sing. When committed to pursuing the truth in black and white, you could find it. This all worked so well for me until the first time that I allowed myself to think about the answers that I so easily spouted. As I began to question and think about the reflexive responses, I began to cringe. I wish I could tell you that the answers in the Divine realm were clear. There are clear experiences. People can report their own journey. Others can tell stories that are factual in their own soul. But the majority of understanding and experiencing God comes down to a tricky little thing called faith.

Faith requires us to listen and question and think and process. The things of God are felt and experienced and nuanced and extraordinary and tender. These words make for a full life experience, but they do not reflect an acurate or even factual measuring of answers. At least not in the way that people who are willing to ask this question usually mean. If, from a place of sincere question and searching, this question is posed to a spiritually “smart” person, the attempt is to tap down the doubt and give the sure-fire Sunday School answer. I’ve spouted it off with great conviction on many an occasion. But if instead, if the questioned one listens to the heart behind the question, we see the seeker longs for truth. The most honest answer is to admit that by all worldly standards, science will always have more answers. But what if clear answers are not the end game? Connection and holistic beauty are the ultimate answer, but they won’t be measurable in a graph. Here’s to a soul journey that empowers the imagination and wonder and leaves behind the measurable success.

What If: God

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I’ve tried to write this “what if” question in every imaginable form and nothing seems sufficient. My ramblings range from questions of existence to doubts about context, explanations and religious framings. More than anything, I want you to know that I’m not afraid of the biggies in this journey. If we are going to ask the questions, I think we need to start with the BIG question.

What happens when we begin to doubt and reframe and disagree and leave behind and embrace the things that formationaly define the Creator? This is scary territory. And for those of us that walk into these conversations with heavy baggage (which is most of us, right?) we spend equal parts our our energy defending our past or preconceived beliefs and fighting to give shape and open minded wonder to the ‘what if.’ It is from this seesaw battle of the mind that I come with a deep desire to set aside the things.

I recently attended a 12-step meeting that used a prayer that I had never heard before.

God, Please help me set aside everything I think I know about myself, my disease, the 12 steps, and especially You; So I may have an open mind and a new experience of all these things. Please let me see the truth.

This prayer is known as the Set Aside prayer. The roots of this prayer come from the chapter called “To the Agnostics” in the AA Big Book. This important section of the book is dedicated to those who come into the program without a concept or even willingness to consider a power that is bigger than themselves and more importantly their addiction. This prayer was exactly what I needed on that day and many days since. I have reached (again) a season of life where I cannot deny the presence of a wonderfully mysterious Divine power. But I am more sure than ever before that my human attempts to define, name, gender type, quantify and contain are insufficient. Often the language of humanity fails at explaining, and seems hopelessly empty in light of, the very real experiences that I have had with this unexplainable force. These unworldly experiences have propelled my heart to love in ways that are bigger than my humanity allows. Thats how I know it is not of my own making.

If there is one thing that this season of imposed down time has given each of us, it is an unplanned journey of slowing. I have had many recent experiences that remind me that we are all grasping for the things that we know. The times that I think I know God in a way that is sure, I miss the entire point. To engage and approach and interact with the Creator is to intentionally invite the unknown into our experience.

So for me, today, the question is: What if our experience of God is bigger than religion and language can articulate? And to that, I can say, “YEP!” I’m taking off the reigns of certainty, and trading them in for the deep, longing, searching, fear excluding, shame expelling gift of setting aside what I have known for the willingness to learn what the Divine still has to teach me.

To those that don’t even know where to start with this one, may I offer an invitation? I wonder if the unframed nature of mystery is one of the scariest parts of this quest. What if I do it wrong? What if this thing that I want to believe in is actually a lie? I get this. I really get this. In light of that, is there one thing that you CAN believe in? The love you have for your child? The moment that you felt loved for the first time? The deep desire to know and be known?

What if these are the very things that gift you connection to the inner gift of the holy. We over-complicate God. But you already know divine truth in your most quiet self. That moment, you know it already, when the friendship soars, the truth is finally said, the pain is admitted out loud. These are sacred moments. In those unexplainable seconds, you are experiencing the presence of something far more powerful than our human capabilities can manufacture. ‘What if’ changes nothing and everything all at the same time.

What If: Our Doubts & Questions Give Us Deeper Faith?

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Eastertide. That is our season for the next 50 days. We have moved past the inward journey. We have moved to a season of resurrection. As a way of celebrating this season of new growth, I will be examining 50 ‘What If’ questions over the next 50 days. Resurrection is not always synonymous with joy. It does not always come in the face of happiness. Sometimes the most honest resurrection takes places in the hospital waiting room, the treatment center or the jail cell. Resurrection is a mysteriously glorious experience of life existing in the face of death. That is our season, may we begin…

What if our doubts and questions give us deeper faith?

Years ago, I read a book called The Sacredness of Questioning Everything by David Dark. I was not ready for all of the gifts of this book, but my journey began. One of the biggest struggles in asking the questions that were mulling in my mind and heart came back to my role as a leader in a faith community. What happens to the people that I am leading if I begin to question (in some public way) all the things? What you must know about the Christian church world that has been my home for more than four decades is that we like answers. Western Christianity finds hope and security in the things that we know. I have been taught that over and over again. The best leaders are the smart, studied, sure ones that know how to reassure the people. This was a foundational lie that defined my ministry. Because here is the truth:

I don’t know.

I said it. And this time, I am saying it from the deepest depths of my gut. The things that I know today are very rarely things of the Spirit. Actually, I am more and more comfortable with the not knowing because rather than running away in fear of the unknown, I am more excited than ever to explore the better questions. That is the heart of my ‘What If’ journey. How can we ask questions from a deep desire to grow rather than a place of embarrassment and shame about our lack of knowledge? How can we open ourselves to conversations with people who see life and faith and education and family and sexuality and addiction and mental health and hate and hope and so many other things from a world that is unfamiliar to me? And with more questions, how can our own journey and questions introduce a deeper understanding of life?

Can I tell you a secret? I really think I would have loved being born into the Jewish faith. Every time I read about the deepest faith moments of the Jewish people, they come through questions. To be Jewish is to question. Even in the deepest rituals of their faith they not only welcome, but invite and expect (especially the children!) to question as a way of claiming and developing their own faith. ARE YOU KIDDING? I need more of this in my life. So, let’s go there. Let’s question. Let’s ask and talk and dream about the things that are stirring inside of us.

I would love to hear from you. I have a list of things that I want to explore, but I would love for you email me if you have a question that we should ponder together. I promise to honor your questions by looking in all directions for truth. That means that there is a good chance we will disagree. I love that. We need more grace filled conversations with people that don’t think the same. We are better when we bring all the thoughts and questions to the table. May these conversations bring new life in the next 50 days.

Holy Week 2020: Saturday

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I almost did not write today. There is a huge part of Saturday that is about the silence. The darkness needs to sink in. We need to have no answers. That needs to be the journey of the day. However, my friends, this particular season in our world seems like a never-ending Saturday of Holy Week, so I think we need to tune in today. We need to set our intention on what could, and can, and may be, when we chose to look for a new resurrection.

I have a bit of confession to make. This lenten season has been a train wreck of sorts in my spiritual journey. The momentum has been building for years, but the impact occurred in a very real way when I begin to step into my annual pilgrimage with the added invitation to reexamine my priorities in light of a global pandemic. In some bizarre and mysterious way, my soul needed permission to dig. I needed the ability to take off the edit button of my normal “routine” approach to faith. There is nothing like the feelings of grief and anger and loss and the aching of a stoppage of life to allow us to look long and hard at the path of connection.

I have allowed myself to say things like does this matter? Can I really connect with this? Is there beauty in this truth? Am I afraid to look at this one aspect of this story because if I do then it all unravels? Yes. The answers to these questions are all ‘yes’. And I have processed and written about this more in the past 3 weeks than I ever have in my life. This has been a season of watching the waves of awareness and questions come over me and go out with the tide of grief and doubt. This forced season of social distancing has refused to let me run from my heart and thoughts. And this is freeing me to surrender.

I have spent the last few weeks prioritizing my questions. One of my most important questions has been, “Who are my teachers?” I have let go of the need to have teachers give me answers. I have based so much of my understanding of the Divine on a regurgitation of other teacher’s favorite foods. This system has failed me in the quiet of my heart, because when I reach the moments of absolute hunger, what other people order as a main course will never satisfy my soul. I must be brave enough to seek the beauty of the feast for myself. Without the willingness to seek out and approach connection without the baggage of shame and should’s, I have no connection to the work of my growth. There is no way of placing God in a box. Actually, I have finally admitted that there is no box. And that is wonderfully and terrifyingly freeing.

I find myself on this Saturday sitting in the waiting. And while resurrection will look very different this Easter, I am thankful. There is nothing about my journey that can be divorced from the promise of new life. Even on the days when I don’t feel new. Even on the days when the story of hope seems so distant that it hurts. What I KNOW, really know, is that out of great pain comes great growth. That is the comfort of this long season of Saturdays.

I discovered a new Podcast last night that was a gift. A warm virtual hug for someone that wants no one to touch her in everyday life and yet now misses the physical connection of humanity. For those that need a soothing voice of meditation and calm today, I highly recommend Turning to the Mystics. I’ll close with a thought that is paraphrased from the Holy Week Mediation:

This pandemic has the ability to recalibrate our spiritual priorities and assumptions and rebirth a more generous clarity.  -James Finley

Friends, may we seek the light of tomorrow with all of our being.

May we know that hope does not always come in a neat and clean package.

May we look beyond the expected path for the miracle of resurrection.

Holy Week 2020: Wednesday

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Looming uncertainty. It seems eerily appropriate that we find ourselves in that same space. As I sit on my back porch writing (trying to divert my eyes from the endless news loop of the television), I find my spirit troubled. This familiar phrase is used, especially in John’s gospel to reveal the heart of Jesus on many occasions. We see it in his response to other’s grief (ch 11). We see it as he predicts his death (ch 12), and this exact phrase is used to describe the heart of Jesus as he explained to the disciples that one of them was going to betray him (ch 13). This last text is today’s lectionary reading. As I read and reread these words, I’m curiously thankful.

I’m thankful for the humanity of Jesus. There are many ways that I struggle to relate to the divinity of Christ, but I get the humanity. I get the struggle. I get the fret. I get the troubled spirit, because that is exactly where I find myself today. When the world is not as we planned it. When the changes are frightening. When you know in your troubled spirit that this is not the desired outcome. Jesus understood that feeling. I think I can safely say that we all need this message of understanding today. For many of us over thinkers, we feel terminally unique on a good day. In this global chaos, I would classify my soul as terminally troubled.

I can safely classify this season of my own faith exploration as one that is filled with questions. One of the most beautiful parts of faith for me is the journey. I have learned that life is anything but stagnant. That goes for the growth that takes place when we experience uncertainty and change in our spiritual life. There were many times in decades past that these seasons came with judgement. When I would experience a season of a “troubled spirit,” I struggled to allow my unsettled soul to just be. I fought it. I shamed myself for doubt and questions. Today, I sit in this place with a strange since of welcome.

What if having a troubled spirit is but an invitation for change? Jesus gave us a model for this life. Not once, when presented with a season of soul stirring, did Jesus quit. He never walked away from the discomfort. He did not change the situation so that he felt more at ease. I don’t recall a time when he chose to drink it away or rage at people that did it wrong. And at the same time, he didn’t always have the answers. Even when he knew the path forward, he was honest about the pain that the truth would bring. One of my favorites of these moments takes place tomorrow night. Let’s just say that I get the garden. I get it in the deep places of my soul.

When I think about authenticity, this is my model. That’s what Wednesday is about for me this year. I will not ignore the uncertainty. I will not deny the unrest. I will allow my spirit to understand and accept discomfort and pain and grief. I will listen with a desire to learn from the inner voice that is speaking to me in this season. Rather than resisting or fighting the feelings that are sometimes easy to push away, I will invite the wisdom of revelation to teach me in the unease. For the record, I think this is like praying for patience. By being willing to lean in, we have to be willing to experience the hard. But here is the thing. We are ALREADY in the hard. What if by opening ourselves to learn from it, we are only admitting that we can grow and thrive because of these moments, not in spite of them?

May we shift our posture as we enter the weight of the week.

May this be more than a hump day of sorts, but rather a choice to change positions.

May we prepare for the hard, because it is coming.

Advent 2019: Hope

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I am a documentary nut. I love to watch them on all the streaming things. Recently, I have watched multiple accounts of the journey of patients with AIDS – both in the early days of the epidemic and the advancements in treating the disease. One of these stories was the account of program that was started in Salt Lake City’s Holy Cross Hospital.

In the mid-80s, these women of faith stood eye to eye with one of the most hope-LESS diseases of our time. With no cure and an almost certain death sentence, they loved and cared and nursed and offered grace in ways that I can almost promise none of them ever intended. It’s almost as if they were open to not-knowing…

One of the sisters, Bernie Mulick said, “It’s part of our mission as Sisters of the Holy Cross to care for those who are poor and sick and needy. We have always cared for the forgotten ones, for the underdogs. They were the railroaders and the coal miners in our earliest days in Utah. During the 1980s and 1990s, individuals with HIV and AIDS were the lepers of the time, and no one else was taking care of them.”

Another nurse, Sr. Linda Bellemore said, “Those were the years of fear about the transmission of this terminal disease resulting in alienation from family, friends and society due to their diagnosis. At the time of their lives when they most needed care and support, how could I not help? The need was obvious, and I am committed to serving people as Jesus did, especially the poor and alienated.”

Watching this film made be want to be that kind of hope dealer. These women were hope with skin. The kind of hope that stands in the face of death and pain and horrible alienation and loves. Because there was no cure. There was no medicine. There was not even a promise of acceptance and basic care. And yet the Sisters offered hope in the midst of the darkest, darkest pain. 

We don’t get to have hope without having seen pain. Hope dares to admit that not everything is as it should be, and so if we want to be hopeful, first we have to walk into the darkness. First we have to see that something is broken and there is a reason we need hope to begin with.

Advent matters, because it’s our way of keeping our eyes and our hearts and our arms all wide open, even in the midst of our not-knowing and darkness and longing. The weary world is still waiting in so many ways, in so many hearts, in so many places, for the fullness of the Kingdom of God to come. 

Advent is for the ones who know longing for that kind of hope.