Advent. A time of expectant waiting and preparation.
These days, our family waits for big things to come. Nothing compared with those who waited over two-thousand years ago for God With Us, but we wait for a new future anyway.
Early this fall, the green light came. The Voice in our spirits. The Divine Nudge. And we took the big step.
On October 9, we met a realtor to discuss our plans to sell our North Minneapolis house, our home for eighteen years. On November 6, our place went on the market, and on November 9, someone made an offer on it. The quickness of the buyer’s action didn’t surprise us, though; as we know from the Resurrection story, a lot can happen in three days.
In October, we found a new home in Fridley, made an offer, and signed the purchase agreement, but that’s a story for another day.
This week has been fraught with struggles. The challenges of a move are one thing; in a strange way, they’re a pleasure. On Monday, though, a troubled man pounded on our door, waking us in the night and robbing our sleep. On Tuesday, Husband’s father passed away in Valley City, North Dakota. On Wednesday, our dog Lala was hit by a car on the street in front of our house as we loaded our vehicles to move.
Today, our thoughts are both heavy and light.
We think of our neighbor, constant issues plaguing his life and spilling into ours.
We think of my father-in-law and the girls’ grandpa, a man of integrity, now gone.
We think of Lala and the gift of her presence. That vehicle—going over 40 mph when it hit her—didn’t steal her life after all. When the vet told us she had neither broken bones nor internal bleeding—only bruising and a lacerated paw—the four of us who had witnessed the hideous accident knew we had also witnessed a miracle.
Let’s wait together this Advent season. It’s not easy. But let’s wait in hope, knowing our peace—even though it might not feel like it—has already come.
God with us.
*Names in this blog have been changed to protect my family and friends in the neighborhood, and in a nod of appreciation to the beloved Swedish author Maj Lindman, I’ve renamed my three blondies Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.