Soulful Saturdays: Resistance
I can already feel myself tensing up, anticipating the resistance within that seems to be coming earlier and earlier with each passing year.
My daughters feel it, too. I’ve passed it on to them, through both quiet murmurings of annoyance as well as louder pronouncements of unresolved grievance.
“Halloween is barely over but look at all these Christmas decorations,” one of them muttered last month during a shopping outing.
“It doesn’t feel right. It’s hard to appreciate it when it comes so soon,” the other affirmed.
I feel it as invasive. There you are, waiting to open a beautiful gift, a gift you know isn’t ready. And yet, everywhere, all around, voices shout, “Look now, now! It’s time, ready or not!” You know the incubation hasn’t yet happened. You know that if the gift is to be opened early, it could very well spoil the beauty of what is to be revealed. You try to shield your eyes because you very much want to wait. You want the moment to be right. You don’t want it to be ruined.
The world says otherwise: “Have it now, have it ALL now, you won’t be disappointed!”
Evidence of the invasion, of a premature tide, comes on December 26, when sad, lonely, broken trees will be flung to curbs like stale leftovers.
You move within this world and its glitter, its colorful lights, its peppermint lattes, its sales and Black Fridays and “buy buy buy now now now.” You move slowly, not wanting to rise up but not willing to fully participate, either.
It’s inevitable. The gift, or a facsimile of it at least, will be forced open before its time, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. What you can do instead is not easy, but you’ll give it your best shot. You’ll have to summon a light heart, unclench your fists, and do your best to protect that little light — the only thing left of the gift that has not been touched. You, along with others who understand, will help guard the most precious part of the gift, its core, and if you do this job well, when the time is right, your heart will leap, the eyes of your children will shine, and the warmth of deep, divine love will emanate from within you and outward to the world.
For now, tow the line, find the balance between two worlds, discern your own best ways to prepare. Grow quiet. Listen for the sound that will change the world — not the noisy clanging of shopping-mall halls, but a wee cry of life.
Resist the clamor but not the underlying hum of Love-Incarnate-coming.
Have a blessed waiting time. Have a meaningful Advent!
How do you view the early arrival of this holy season? Open arms, or, like me, arms slightly crossed in a pose of resistance?