“i love you and i hate you.” she spoke of the advent season to me yesterday morning. and i understood. i have this emotional reaction, and not all the emotions are good ones.
advent: an expectation of arrival.
we wait. breath bated. anticipation on the tips of our fingers, tongues. rattling our bones.
the waiting is hard. grueling.
it’s a laboring in itself.
it is a love-hate relationship, is it not?
we you waiting for? wait, don’t answer that out loud. you know. you live it every single moment of every single day.
and sometimes, the waiting threatens to kill you.
i know her pain, my friend’s. the frustration she feels. in my own way. for my own things. we’ve had this camaraderie of waiting, that miles and time hasn’t diminished. we both wait. we both expect. both our hands, arms, hearts….empty.
we drum our fingers, pinky to index: 1, 2, 3, 4 – 1, 2, 3, 4 – repeat – repeat – repeat……
when will be our time? how much hope can i continue to stuff into this bag swept across my shoulder before i just let it fall to the road? because this epic is turning out to be less of an adventure than i wanted. and i’m a little beyond tired.
advent: the expectation