I have an endless collection of these small books. Each of them holds my most personal writings, regular reflections that move from the general to the very particular. The pages are raw and sometimes profane; they are my thoughts and prayers and rants in their most real and honest forms. More than modest musings, they are a collective cry of hope mixed with despair, situated in a time and place known too well by me. Cliches have no place here.
Advent is a time to cry out beyond the festive and religious platitudes. Advent is when we are dared to be raw and honest and maybe irreverent about our personal and social longings, our expectations for God to act in our darkest and most grief-stricken places. We do so reminded it was into this mess and in response to situated and brash cries of a people that God chose to come down and dwell as one of us, even to liberate us. So come all ye faithful...and cry a bit.