To be honest, when I think of the word “wait,” I do not think of Advent candles and loving dogs. The first word that comes to mind is “bus.” Waiting for public transportation may demand attention, but does not lead to contentment. Anxious, I crane my neck to see if #48 rises about the stream of traffic. I check my watch against the supposed time of arrival. And when the big vehicle lumbers to a stop, I say to myself, Good thing I don’t have to wait any longer.
That’s why I treasure this small December decoration. For a brief period, the lighting of the Advent wreath and the melodic Old Testament passages transform me into another Josie, pure attention and contentment. The first week’s single flame helps heals my cynicism. The second week offers two lit candles to sooth my impatience. Relief from the tedious happens during the third week when the pink candle flickers. And my desire for closure comes when all the candles burn in one lovely circle.
What then is Advent—simply a month to light candles and contemplate the virtuous life? Long ago, I focused on the Coming of Christ in history, mystery, and majesty, but the trajectory from Christmas to Final Coming became too grand a path. Now, Advent reminds me to live in the tiny flame of the present moment–because that is all there is. If the future sneaks in, let it be the hope of a God who keeps wondrous promises. Watch for red umbrellas in the rain—one way to sharpen the senses whenever the bus runs late.