On Christmas eve, I ate dinner alone (unexpectedly). But I was fine – really. I had a good time, unexpectedly. Then I cried when I got home. I mean – at this age, you’re not supposed to be alone on Christmas eve, right?

The night represents a little how I’ve felt this December – away from home, holidays in general. I’m some one who has been in Baltimore for nearly 10 years; and yet, here I am eating alone on Christmas eve…

but…making conversation and laughing with:
the bar manager who (feeling sorry for me I’m sure) plied me with free wine and cheesecake, Elda – the mom who’s kids were 45 minutes late and the Italian chef from Venice. That was my Christmas Eve in Baltimore.

But what does that have to do with your reflection on Advent (other than dinner), you ask?

a sidenote (bear with me): I’ve been doing these reflections for awhile. And in reading over my previous blogs, I see that I tend to tip towards the melancholy with just a teensy bit of “comfort and joy”.

The truth is, I worry about writing a blog for the friend who’s had a great year while writing one for the one who’s had the hardest one of his/her life? So I end up leaning more on the melancholy side.

And well, the end of the year just makes one a little more pensive anyway, doesn’t it?

And what they don’t tell you growing up: the highs and lows are just what is part of life – everyone’s life. Kind of like my Christmas dinner.

I’ve had some amazing highs this year (explored Spain with my sister!) and some deep lows (made some regretful mistakes). And what stood out to me in the Christmas story this year was very similar to what stood out to me at Lent this last spring: mercy.

But where’s ‘mercy’ in this story? Where it’s mentioned, it precedes God remembering his promise he made so long ago: that he’ll send salvation to his people. Having mercy on his people waiting in darkness for what I’m sure they felt was WAY too long.

Advent means “coming” and it’s often about the ‘waiting’ of the arrival of a baby, but isn’t it really more about God finally remembering? Remembering his promise after 400 years (well, fulfilling it really).

Anyway – I could get all preachy and application-y here (like how in this age of social media and instant access, we all need validation and need to be heard; or how Jesus’ life and ministry was about remembering the ‘un-remembered’ – ahem – you know, refugees, vulnerable …) but I’m just going to stop and say this:

We all want to be remembered. Known. Cared for. Somehow this resonated with me this December – spending it away from all of my family – and especially on my Christmas eve, being bailed on (There’s the connection to my Christmas Dinner 🙂 ). And this year in general.

Because, it’s good to be remembered.
That’s why the angels sang two thousand years ago.
That’s why a whole caravan journeyed miles and miles from the East following a star.
That’s why poor shepherds RAN to some child’s side, then went out and told everyone.
Because after walking in darkness, feeling forgotten, they were finally remembered!

And well – I’ve felt both forgotten and remembered this year in fairly significant ways. And whether or not, this has been an amazing year or a terrible year, I’m sure you have too.

It’s never really occurred to me that Advent was about more than waiting and more than an arrival. It’s really about God remembering. It’s about a promise kept. And that has brought me ‘comfort and joy’.

Whether or not you celebrate Christmas or follow a different tradition, I hope that you are remembered and treasured and feel it down to your core in the new year.

Happy 2019!