I Am Like Fire-The Transformation of a Lifetime

Great Expectations 12/20/2011

Nearly two weeks ago the idea to write about great expectations came to me, not the eponymous work that bears this name, but a reflection on great expectations that shape my life.  How dare I attempt to put into words such heart truths!  I shall be brief.

I am getting ready for Christmas…and for spring.  Two weeks ago, in the early days of this preparatory and reflective Advent season with which each liturgical year commences, I recalled two recent experiences of untold expectation.  Fearfully expectant, I launched myself headlong into the shadow ensconced in the news of a friend’s terminal diagnosis eight years ago, expecting light to emerge on the other side.  Through great fire, this was realized, and my personal transformation ensued.

Then the invitation three years ago, again during Advent, took fearful expectation and changed what I experienced as my previously normal life into something more beautiful than I could imagine.  My heart already started the journey, and now my body and mind ran (pardon the pun) headlong to this new life that is reflected in the difficult yet fulfilling temple maintenance I now embrace as part of my daily ritual and routine.  What is the catch?  Loss took human form for me, and the re-narration of my life draws me deeper into the mystery of my faith, reminding me anew of the Great Expectation embodied in Jesus’ advent, to set aright the great undoing left behind in the garden.  As I see my life undone and rewoven in this Great Expectation, I am humbled at the thought that redemption comes in small but mighty packaging.  Just as a baby conceived and born in “untimely” circumstances, each of us possesses the opportunity to join in this timely work.

I have not arrived unscathed to my current abode, and every day presents challenging moments where I miss the mark.  But I am not done…not yet. Tonight, as I drove home in the rain from the grocery store, I smelled spring in the air.  I was surprised to detect this familiar aroma, a sneak preview in these last days of fall.  Autumn’s beauty fades to winter’s pristine silence…and then new life comes with spring.  Advent-loss takes human form and ushers in new life.  Oh yes, spring is coming, and just as I smelled the earth’s freshness, my heart lifted, knowing that the beauty of the garden par excellence is at the doorstep.    I rest in this joy tonight.  I run to my loss, and I will not let it go until it blesses me.  I am undone-redone-by this great expectation.

Come run with me…to the manger, to the garden, to the tomb, to sunrise eternal.  I learn something new each time I run this course.