The season of Advent is upon us and I have some very high hopes it will be spiritually fruitful. It has been a difficult six months and every time I think the difficulty has passed, it rears up again, causing me to despair, daring me to hope. In some ways I have lost hope or decided that I have the power and control to make what I hope for happen. To make it happen right now, before something happens again. And I don’t.
On Sunday, I read, “At a certain point in life, the profound desires and cravings of our heart reach a point of eruption in us. Yet at the same time comes the awareness that we cannot bring about what we want – we do not have inside us what is needed to fulfill and satisfy our longings. And so, with our infinite yearnings we turn to the Infinite and cry, “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down.”” From Magnificat, First Sunday of Advent, Mass introduction.
Much to my disappointment, there has been an eruption. One eruption would have been enough; there have been quite a few more than one.