Comfort

"Comfort, comfort ye My people,
Speak ye peace, thus saith our God;
Comfort those who sit in darkness,
Mourning 'neath their sorrow's load;
Speak ye to Jerusalem
Of the peace that waits for them;
Tell her that her sins I cover,
And her warfare now is over."

This is my third Advent post, and I have to laugh at myself as I realize how weepy and morose I become in the weeks leading up to Christmas. I laugh, and I feel right about it. I think every year I cite some sad story or another, either that of someone I know or read about in the news, so I'll skip those details. I think I go on for several paragraphs, too, so I'll try to skip that, as well.

I'll just say that the words above are the first verse of the hymn that has been running through my head, that I hum while I wash the dishes, that sent me slipping out of Lessons and Carols rehearsal to regain my composure, lest I look like a hormonal soprano drama queen. Singing these words brings to my mind and heart the people I know are "mourning 'neath their sorrow's load" right now: I feel sad and afraid for them and yearn for their comfort.

I think Advent (for me) is a dark time where I learn and remember why in the world people yearn for a savior in the first place. This year, in a time when I find comfort at every turn in my own life, I feel called to share it more than I have been so far amidst choir rehearsals, shopping, tree-trimming, and cookie-baking. There's one week left to prepare for Christmas; I hope I'm ready.