Blindsided
Grief is a strange beast. I am listening to a Dave Crowder song I've heard many times lately and suddenly this time it brings me to tears. I am telling a story I've told before but for no reason this time my voice cracks and tears form in my eyes. Where does this come from? Why can grief drag me to my knees in just one blink, out of the blue, blindside me?
I love the season of Advent: the coming of our Savior.
Of course, I love Christmas too...I drag out my many boxes of Christmas decor...of which only 3 boxes are items for the house - the other 4 are all ornaments...and spend all day thinking of when I received this item or who I was with when I bought that one. Christmas holds memories and special smells and smiles and warm feelings. But Advent is different. Advent is actually about Christ. You can have Christmas without Christ, but you can't have Advent without him.
I think along with the death of a friend, I am grieving the loss of my traditions of Advent this year because of our move. Usually I spend one day during this particular week in a small room at a convent in Durham - a silent retreat - to begin my season of Advent. I pack my bag and snacks and prepare my mind, spirit and emotions for an encounter with God that will center me and settle me before I lose track of what Advent is all about and let Christmas overtake me. But I have no "Avila" this year in this new city with this new job.
I miss the traditions of our old church: making Advent wreaths and lighting one candle each Sunday, the Hanging of Green in the sanctuary, trying different traditions like the Moravian Love Feast, our 11 o'clock Christmas Eve service, and so many more. I knew whose face I would see at a particular service and which songs we would probably sing. I knew the rhythm and PEACE of the Advent season there.
I must remind myself that at one time I was a nomad in the Christmas season...5 years ago when we first moved to North Carolina and Chris and I were newlyweds, I didn't have traditions yet - I didn't even know what Advent was. So I can learn a new way here, too. But I still grief for our loss.
I'm sure that this new blog spot will be mostly ramblings for me, as tonight proves. But it's good to put into words what my heart is feeling, especially as I work through this time of grief from death. I know that I do not experience as much tragedy over Kyle Lake's death as so many others do...he was not a part of my daily life. But like I said before, sometimes it just smacks me in the face when I didn't even know I was thinking about it.
It's good to renew my mind.
I love the season of Advent: the coming of our Savior.
Of course, I love Christmas too...I drag out my many boxes of Christmas decor...of which only 3 boxes are items for the house - the other 4 are all ornaments...and spend all day thinking of when I received this item or who I was with when I bought that one. Christmas holds memories and special smells and smiles and warm feelings. But Advent is different. Advent is actually about Christ. You can have Christmas without Christ, but you can't have Advent without him.
I think along with the death of a friend, I am grieving the loss of my traditions of Advent this year because of our move. Usually I spend one day during this particular week in a small room at a convent in Durham - a silent retreat - to begin my season of Advent. I pack my bag and snacks and prepare my mind, spirit and emotions for an encounter with God that will center me and settle me before I lose track of what Advent is all about and let Christmas overtake me. But I have no "Avila" this year in this new city with this new job.
I miss the traditions of our old church: making Advent wreaths and lighting one candle each Sunday, the Hanging of Green in the sanctuary, trying different traditions like the Moravian Love Feast, our 11 o'clock Christmas Eve service, and so many more. I knew whose face I would see at a particular service and which songs we would probably sing. I knew the rhythm and PEACE of the Advent season there.
I must remind myself that at one time I was a nomad in the Christmas season...5 years ago when we first moved to North Carolina and Chris and I were newlyweds, I didn't have traditions yet - I didn't even know what Advent was. So I can learn a new way here, too. But I still grief for our loss.
I'm sure that this new blog spot will be mostly ramblings for me, as tonight proves. But it's good to put into words what my heart is feeling, especially as I work through this time of grief from death. I know that I do not experience as much tragedy over Kyle Lake's death as so many others do...he was not a part of my daily life. But like I said before, sometimes it just smacks me in the face when I didn't even know I was thinking about it.
It's good to renew my mind.
posted by gnat @ 8:05 PM
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