Now, the book doesn't talk about fairies, monsters, dragons, or princes in disguise, but it does tell an even grander story: it describes the wonderful mystery of Christ's birth. By reading this book, I've seen the Advent of Christ in a whole new light.
For example, here's one quote that illustrates beautifully one small part of what I've learned from her book:
I got so caught up in the details of our shared existence--the schedule, the car, the children, the 10:50 church service--that I no longer paid much attention to the real events of my life, no longer pondered their meaning or treasured them up in my heart.
Did Mary feel the same way sometimes? I wonder now. Did she long for a quiet place in the tumult of giving birth and fleeing to Egypt and finding a cheap place to live and making friends among strangers and wanting to be home? …
As she was raising up Jesus and soon his brothers and sisters, as she reviewed their activities in her head so she wouldn't forget one, as she washed clothes with the other women of the town and helped organize a niece's wedding, did she, like me, long to escape the commotion, the words spoken and not spoken, the noise and responsibility and turmoil of belonging, the "with-ness" of life, and just be alone?As you all head into that busy, noisy advent season, I hope you can find moments to treasure up the meaning of life in your heart, as Mary did. Take a few moments to be alone, in silence. Journal and reflect on God and what He has done in your writing and your life this year.
Treasure the stillness, the "Silent Night," the "Stille Nacht," whenever God gives you the chance.
What are your thoughts as we approach the season of Advent? Have you made time for stillness in your life and in your writing?