Friends,
I’ve been wrapped in our Sunday readings this week, and they’ve mostly been meeting me where the week already is — a bit full, a bit uneven, but not without small moments of light. Isaiah’s line about the desert finding a way to bloom caught me off guard the other morning. It wasn’t a big revelation. It just felt close to how life has been moving here in the parish — little signs of life showing up in conversations, in the hallways, in the simple ways people keep checking in on each other.
Mary has been in the mix too, mostly because her story doesn’t pretend things are simple. She says yes while still standing in all the uncertainty around her. That feels familiar. Most of us do the next thing without having the whole picture, and somehow that seems to be enough for God to work with.
And then there’s John asking his honest question from a place that had narrowed around him. I appreciate him more as I get older. There’s something very human in asking again what we thought we once knew, especially when life has pressed in a little. Jesus doesn’t fault him for it. He just points to where life is already breaking through.
There’s been a bit of that here this week too. Nothing flashy. Just small warmths in the middle of ordinary days — a conversation that steadied me, someone offering help before I thought to ask, a moment of quiet in the church when I needed it.
If your week has been anything like that — a mix of things you planned for and things you didn’t — you’re not alone. Advent seems to work that way.
See you Sunday. I’ll save you a seat.
Alex+